Over the last two weeks we have seen cruelty directed at some of the most vulnerable people in our communities.  Somewhere in the future people will look back at the pictures of men shackled in chain gangs, doubled over with heads shaved, and rank it with those of the early days of the holocaust, where elder Jewish men and women were forced to clean streets, while being publicly humiliated. Such images capture the depravity of power, the powerlessness of onlookers. They are the early warning signs of brutalities to come.

Commentators are debating whether or not the US is in a constitutional crisis. Certainly, the actions of the Trump administration have moved us toward a confrontation between the executive and judicial branches of government. Court after court is finding the actions of Trump and Elon Musk to be “illegal.” Yet the power of the courts is unclear when those with executive authority refuse to comply. 

Under fascism truth and lies have a complicated relationship. Small lies about specific facts are not as important as the larger truths essential to establish and maintain a fascist regime. 

In his discussion of Hitler, Mussolini and Goebbels, historian Federico Finchelstein observes:

Understanding this moment as a period of emerging fascism enables us to look at historical, systemic trends, rather than focusing on the personality characteristics of individuals. Trump’s outsized capacity for cruelty and his perpetual lying can seduce us into thinking that he is the problem, rather than a symptom of much deeper structural shifts.

Somewhere on East Jefferson Avenue, there is the ghost of a sign. In uneven, narrow script the words “NO CONSENT” once stood out boldly, red on a low gray wall.  The letters have long faded. But their spirit remains to guide us.

The declaration embodied the resistance to the drive toward Detroit bankruptcy. As much loved activist and City Council member JoAnn Watson often reminded us: Detroit did not file for bankruptcy. An unelected, illegitimate, anti-democratic emergency manager did. It was all a ruse to shift public wealth to private hands. It was a practice case for what is now happening on a national scale.

Our ability to construct a better future depends on naming this moment with as much care as possible. We are in the midst of a fundamental, global transformation marked by ecological collapse and grotesque inequalities of wealth and power. Systems that defined daily life and gave it meaning are collapsing, incapable of responding to the magnitude of the challenges before us.

Relationships around the globe are shifting rapidly. These shifts are not because of Donald Trump.  Although his policies are likely to make things worse for everyone, the reality is that the American Empire is declining.  All the bluster over tariffs  and territorial expansion from Greenland to Gaza will not restore it. The ability of the U.S.A. to dominate others has been diminished by economic and political realities far beyond this current administration.  Whatever moral influence we represented was lost long ago. The cruel ending of humanitarian aid is the latest act of a country that has given up all sense of compassion.

The chaotic, cruel actions of the Trump administration are designed to obscure the real shifts taking place in our country. It should be obvious that Trump, with the aid of Elon Musk, has staged a coup, rendering the congress, courts, and constitution meaningless. In the pursuit of “government efficiency” the necessary functions of collective life are being destroyed.

People across the country are responding to the attack on immigrants. Faced with a militarized assault on our communities, people are demonstrating a courage rooted in compassion.  They are refusing to cooperate with federal officials, drawing upon constitutional protections, faith, and local support.

I am grateful to writer/activist Rebecca Solnit for her thoughtful discussion “The way we get through this is together.” Held on Martin Luther King Day, the conversation with Liz Ogbu, Akaya Windwood, Bill McKibben, Charlie Jane Anders, and Anand Giridharadas offers ways to “celebrate community and cultivate a pathway for hope in these dark times.” It is a rich, thoughtful discussion, reflecting expansive experiences by people deeply engaged in efforts to create a just and peaceful world. 

As the first week of Trump’s presidency unfolds, I have been thinking about key ideas they explored. One that I have found helpful is to consider the distinction between reaction and response.

The joy in Gaza at the announcement of a cease fire agreement has dominated the news. Announced on January 15^th, the 96^th birthday of Martin Luther King, the Biden administration said a cease fire would begin Sunday, January 19. Immediately people danced, hugged, sang, cried, and cheered at the possibilities of peace. It was an outpouring of relief at the end of a nightmare.

Across the country people gather at the end of January for a celebration of the life of Martin Luther King, Jr.  It is a time when we remember the people who struggled for a vision of America rooted in compassion, love, justice and peace. This year Detroiters organized to 22^nd annual commemoration under the banner “Six Decades of Mass Movements: The Struggle Continues.” Emphasizing our city’s long history in efforts for a just and peaceful world, the celebration is held at the Historic St. Mathew’s-St. Joseph’s Episcopal Church, a home of the Underground Railroad in the 19^th Century, a critical site in the Northern Highschool Student Strike in the 20th Century, and an important place for organizing in the 21^st Century as we face continued assaults on the lives of people.  This year, the national celebration is also the day we will witness the inauguration of Donald Trump as the President of the United States.