As far back as the 1990's I was saying "the power you give to your side today will be wielded by the other side tomorrow." The Libertarian Party has been saying that since the 1970's, but I was but a kid then.
Gee, what could have led to the US being in a fascist or semi-fascist state? One election? A trend that stretches back decades?
You're absolutely right to suggest that the United States didn’t arrive at its current moment of authoritarian drift overnight. But the truth is, the roots of this trend go back not just decades—but centuries. The danger wasn't born in the last few elections. It was embedded in the foundation.
From its inception, the United States has harbored a deep tension between the language of liberty and the reality of hierarchy. The Founders, while espousing Enlightenment ideals, also enshrined inequality in both law and practice. The Constitution protected slavery through euphemisms like the "three-fifths compromise" and provisions for the return of fugitive slaves. It also included language about suppressing insurrections and rebellions—not just to maintain peace, but often to protect the interests of wealthy landowners from the demands of the marginalized.
This contradiction has played out repeatedly across our history. The same nation that celebrated “all men are created equal” maintained chattel slavery, enforced segregation, denied women the vote, interned Japanese Americans, and disproportionately conscripted the poor into wars often driven by imperial or economic interests. The current use of ICE raids, anti-immigrant rhetoric, and threats to invoke the Insurrection Act against peaceful protests are not anomalies—they’re part of a long tradition of using state power to police “the other” while consolidating elite control.
Presidential power has also been a concern from the beginning. George Washington set a norm of stepping down after two terms, not because the Constitution required it, but because he recognized the dangers of concentrated executive authority. But that restraint has eroded. Today, we're witnessing a movement that seeks not only to ignore norms but to fundamentally rewrite them—potentially through violence, disinformation, or legal manipulation. When a president openly praises dictators, says he will be king and not to leave office, and threatens to invoke the Insurrection Act over an alleged invasion, we’re not watching the fall—we’re watching the culmination of long-standing, unresolved flaws.
The Libertarian Party claims to be a defender of liberty against this tide. But its record—though limited by its lack of actual power—doesn't offer a real alternative. Much of Libertarian ideology is shaped not by a deep commitment to justice, but by a propertarian obsession with deregulation, privatization, and the sanctity of wealth. In practice, this translates into policies that accelerate inequality, weaken public protections, and cede power to corporate oligarchs. Their refusal to support social safety nets or voting rights protections creates conditions ripe for the very authoritarianism they claim to oppose.
Moreover, the Libertarian movement has often indulged in conspiracy theories and anti-government paranoia that erode trust in democratic institutions. This is not an accident—it’s often part of a deliberate “both sides are bad” narrative that serves to paralyze civic engagement and normalize extremism. The tragic case of Ashli Babbitt, who died while storming the Capitol on January 6th, illustrates how this ideology—once it meets grievance and online radicalization—can turn deadly.
Yes, liberty is essential. But real liberty requires not just less government—it requires just government. One that is accountable, equitable, and bound by laws that apply to the powerful as well as the powerless. No political party has yet lived up to that standard, but fetishizing deregulation and tax elimination doesn’t get us closer to it—it often hastens the slide into corporate and executive domination.
If we want to resist authoritarianism, we need to stop imagining that it arrived recently, or that one party or movement can be its simple antidote. The task ahead is not just to vote or protest, but to reckon with the structural legacies—legal, economic, cultural—that have always made American democracy both inspiring and endangered. Only by facing those truths can we move toward a more just and durable freedom.