The Delusions of Authoritarians: Why it never ends well for Fascist Leaders

Fascist and authoritarian leaders rarely see themselves as doomed figures in history. On the contrary, they often believe they are exceptional – capable of bending the course of history to their will. Whether through the cult of personality, the rewriting of historical narratives, or sheer force, they assume they can control how they will be remembered. This delusion has led many to catastrophic ends, yet new generations of authoritarians seem undeterred, convinced that they will be the ones to succeed where others failed. Trump and his allies fit squarely into this pattern, refusing to believe that history might judge them harshly or that their actions could lead to their own downfall.

Mussolini provides one of the most vivid examples of this phenomenon. He envisioned himself as a modern-day Caesar, reviving the grandeur of the Roman Empire through Fascism. His brutal repression of dissent, his alliance with Hitler, and his reckless military ambitions ultimately led to disaster. When the tide of World War II turned, Mussolini found himself abandoned, hunted, and finally executed by his own people; his corpse hung upside down in Milan as a stark rejection of his once-grandiose vision. And yet, to the very end, he believed he was the victim of betrayal rather than the architect of his own demise.

Hitler, too, was utterly convinced of his historical greatness. He meticulously curated his own image, producing propaganda that cast him as Germany’s savior. Even as the Third Reich collapsed around him, he ranted in his bunker about how the German people had failed him rather than the other way around. His ultimate act, suicide rather than surrender, was an attempt to control his narrative, ensuring he would never be paraded as a prisoner. But history did not grant him the legacy he sought. Instead of being remembered as a visionary, he became the ultimate symbol of genocidal tyranny.

The pattern continued into the later 20th century. Nicolae Ceaușescu, the Romanian dictator, had convinced himself that his people adored him. He built extravagant palaces while his citizens starved, crushed opposition, and developed a personality cult that portrayed him as a paternal figure of national strength. When the moment of reckoning arrived in 1989, he seemed genuinely shocked that the crowd in Bucharest turned on him. Within days, he and his wife were tried and executed by firing squad, their supposed invincibility revealed as an illusion.

Even those who manage to hold onto power longer do not always escape history’s judgment. Augusto Pinochet ruled Chile through terror for nearly two decades, believing that his iron grip would secure him a revered place in history. But his crimes – torture, executions, forced disappearances eventually caught up with him. Though he escaped trial for most of his life, his reputation was destroyed. His legacy became one of shame rather than strength.

Trump, like these figures, operates in a world where loyalty and spectacle take precedence over reality. He dismisses mainstream historians as biased, preferring the adulation of his base over any broader judgment. He likely assumes that as long as he can retain power, whether through elections, legal battles, or intimidation, he can dictate how history views him. But history has a way of rendering its own verdict. Those who believe they can shape their own myth while trampling on democratic institutions, rule of law, and public trust often find themselves remembered not as saviors, but as cautionary tales.

Is USA a Fascist State Struggling with Democracy? 

Is America flirting with fascism, or are such claims the product of alarmist hyperbole? It’s a question that divides dinner tables, social media feeds, and even academic circles. Some argue that the United States is a democracy fighting for its soul; others see it as a country standing perilously close to authoritarian rule. But to call America fascist – or even on the road to it – requires a careful unpacking of what fascism truly entails, and how it might resonate within the American political landscape.

Let’s be clear: fascism isn’t a vague insult for policies we don’t like. It’s an authoritarian ideology with specific hallmarks. Think Mussolini’s Italy, Hitler’s Germany – regimes steeped in violent nationalism, the suppression of dissent, and a drive to create a monolithic cultural identity. Robert Paxton, one of the leading scholars on the subject, described fascism as thriving on crises, exalting the group over the individual, and depending on a strong leader to restore a supposedly decaying nation. So, how does America stack up against these criteria? Let’s dig deeper.

Nationalism and Authoritarian Rhetoric
Nationalism is the drumbeat of every fascist regime, and it’s undeniable that America has had its moments of chest-thumping pride. But the “America First” rhetoric of recent years has pushed nationalism to a different level, stirring debate about its compatibility with democratic ideals. Take the Trump administration, where slogans like “Make America Great Again” dovetailed with a barrage of attacks on immigrants, minorities, and even the democratic process itself. Muslim travel bans, family separation policies at the southern border, and the vilification of immigrants as existential threats bear a troubling resemblance to the exclusionary policies of fascist regimes.

And then there’s the attack on the press—“the enemy of the people,” as Trump called it. Fascism thrives on controlling narratives, suppressing inconvenient truths, and manufacturing enemies to unite the populace. These tactics were echoed in efforts to discredit media outlets, undermine trust in elections, and dismiss dissenting voices. While America still enjoys a free press and opposition parties, these tactics are red flags in any democracy.

Civil Liberties Under Pressure
A free society requires robust protections for civil liberties, yet the U.S. has shown cracks in its foundation. Think about the use of force against peaceful protesters during the George Floyd demonstrations, or the revelations of mass surveillance by whistleblower Edward Snowden. Then there are laws in certain states aimed at curbing protests – an unsettling echo of fascist regimes that treated dissent as treason.

Still, America hasn’t crossed the line into wholesale repression. Dissent exists, opposition thrives, and courtrooms regularly challenge abuses of power. These are democratic lifelines, but they must be safeguarded vigilantly.

Corporate Power and Economic Control
Fascism often entails a symbiotic relationship between the state and corporations, where economic power is wielded for nationalist purposes. In America, the government doesn’t control corporations outright, but the influence of corporate money in politics is undeniable. Lobbying, dark money in elections, and the revolving door between big business and government raise questions about whether democracy is being eroded by oligarchic forces.

Economic inequality is another point of tension. Policies favoring the wealthy over the working class may not fit the fascist mold exactly, but they exacerbate social divisions, fueling the kind of crises that fascism preys upon.

Racial and Cultural Tensions
A defining feature of fascism is the enforcement of a singular racial or cultural identity, often to the detriment of minorities. The U.S. has a long history of systemic racism, from slavery and segregation to redlining and mass incarceration. Contemporary issues – like police brutality and racial inequality – continue to expose deep wounds in the fabric of American democracy.

White nationalist groups, emboldened in recent years, represent another disturbing trend. The normalization of their rhetoric in certain political spaces harks back to fascist tendencies to scapegoat minorities for societal woes. Yet, these groups remain fringe elements rather than central powers, and their rise has been met with strong opposition from civil society.

America’s Democratic Struggle
Despite these troubling signs, it would be a mistake to paint America as fully fascist. The U.S. retains institutions that fascist regimes dismantle: a separation of powers, an independent judiciary, and regular elections. Social movements – from Black Lives Matter to grassroots environmental campaigns – demonstrate that the democratic spirit is alive and well.

America’s story is not one of fascism triumphant, but of democracy under pressure. Its history is riddled with contradictions, from its founding on ideals of liberty while maintaining slavery, to its championing of free speech while tolerating systemic inequality. Yet, those contradictions are precisely why it remains a battleground for change.

So, Is America Fascist?
Not yet – and perhaps not even close. But the warning signs are there. The flirtation with authoritarianism, the normalization of exclusionary rhetoric, and the entrenchment of corporate influence all demand vigilance. America isn’t Mussolini’s Italy or Hitler’s Germany, but it is a nation grappling with the forces that could pull it in that direction. The question isn’t just “Is America fascist?” – it’s “What are we doing to ensure it never becomes so?”

Americans must keep democracy’s flame alive by holding power to account, protecting civil liberties, and fighting for the inclusive ideals the country was built on. After all, democracy isn’t just a system – it’s a struggle. And that struggle is theirs to win.