How should we decipher Trump’s return? How do we explain the re-election of a statesman who persistently tramples over the conventional ethical and practical boundaries of politics? Why do his flaws, gaffes, and scandals seem to have no effect on voters? There are many concerns, and hence analyses. Why do these analyses fail to open new avenues for us? Perhaps the less-posed question has insights to offer: how can we scrutinize these analyses themselves as pathways to understanding not just Trump’s re-emergence, but his seemingly inevitable return? What do reactions to Trump’s return reveal about the scope and limits of political imagination and thought? Might we leverage these analyses to explore the very heart of the predicament, that is the tragic return of a phenomenon which—inverting the famous Hegelian-Marxist dictum—was welcomed as farce the first time, but now signals the tragedy of the anti-politics of populism and the necropolitics of fascism? Finally, is it truly possible to confront the return of this phenomenon with active passion and reason rather than retreating into lamentation, despair, or cries of agony?

In this regard, Kamran Baradaran and Anthony Ballas, for instance, offer a particularly incisive intervention. In their essay “Against the Political Stasis, or the Story of a Fall,” (1) they argue that the January 6th attack on Capitol Hill should not be dismissed as a failed coup or a moment of collective irrationality but understood as “an actual fascist threat.” More importantly, they draw on Mohan and Dwivedi’s concept of ‘stasis’ (2) to highlight a paralyzing “stasis of thought and imagination” within liberal and progressive institutions, which prevents any effective response to the rise of the far right. Their reading urges us to consider not only the fascist tendencies of Trumpism, but the broader incapacity of our intellectual and political frameworks to grasp and resist such phenomena. So, the real danger, they suggest, lies not in Trump’s return per se, but in the interpretive impotence that renders this return thinkable, even normalizable.

To test such a hypothesis, we must look beyond the numerous “expert” analyses regarding the glaring and fatal flaws of the Democrats’ campaign—focusing on identity politics, ignoring the impact of inflation, failing to mobilize marginalized and lower-income groups, and so on. Instead, let us examine two dominant and prominent perspectives within critical thought: the viewpoint of classical leftism and that of radical leftism. These perspectives—one grounded in the dichotomy of “true consciousness/false consciousness” and the other in the binary of “volition/weakness,” or, to put it differently, the idealism of awareness versus the materialism of power—seek to uncover the secret behind Trump’s renewed dominance. Thus, we will proceed by analyzing the writings of two leading intellectual figures representing these currents—Henry Giroux and Slavoj Žižek—examining their subtleties and implications. Our aim is to show that these analyses reveal not only the reasons behind Trump’s dominance but also the failures of his opposition and their ideological camps.

Henry Giroux, in his essay “America’s Descent into Fascism Can Be Stopped”, (3) interprets Trump’s victory as a symptom of a societal malady—a disease resulting from the “savage spread of fascism in America,” which he equates with the rise of “neoliberal authoritarianism” both in the U.S. and globally. He traces the roots of this condition to what he has repeatedly emphasized in his work as the “neglect of education as a form of critical and civic literacy” and its role in “critical and civic literacy and the role it plays in raising mass consciousness and fostering an energized collective movement.” Building upon this foundational idea, Giroux formulates his critique of the inadequate state of education and the urgent need to address its shortcomings. In his view, “cultural imaginaries and persuasion” play a pivotal role in enabling Trumpists to systematically and, unfortunately, effectively “destroy historical awareness as a fundamental element of civic education.”

Giroux criticizes the Democrats, specifically Bernie Sanders, for failing to address the “systemic issues.” The root of it lies in “a widespread moral collapse,” particularly within “educational systems”: “For decades, the right wing has weaponized cultural pedagogy to convince white, Latinx, and Black workers to betray their own interests, connecting them to authoritarian communities and white supremacy ideologies. This strategy exploits their sense of alienation while eroding any sense of critical agency.” Continuing along these lines, Giroux underscores how, unlike liberals, the New Right (or, as he terms it, “reactionary conservatives”) has pursued a “long-term strategy,” recognizing “the transformative power of ideas” by weaponizing culture to “distort the public consciousness.” This strategy deliberately fosters “mass ignorance and the lack of civic literacy,” not as unintended consequences but as “engines” of its political machinery, ensuring that even the most Subordinated groups ignore economic injustice, instead succumbing to “a collective spectacle of hatred and bigotry”: “This manufactured ignorance and herd-like submission is more than just an obstacle to rational thinking; it is a political weapon that renders society’s most vulnerable compliant and fragmented.”

Given this socio-political pathological diagnosis, it is unsurprising that Giroux proposes countering fascism or authoritarianism (terms he uses interchangeably) through a counter-culture emphasizing critical civic education: “If we are to counter this fascist tide, we must immediately employ tools to rebuild public consciousness as a prerequisite for an inclusive movement.” This approach, which Giroux equates with “rethinking the foundations of culture, politics, struggle, and education,” calls for “fundamentally altering our approach to theory, pedagogy, and the emancipatory power of learning.”

This framework by Giroux represents a polished version of the classic analytical structure often referred to as the “hypothesis of deception.” This hypothesis has been one of the oldest and, undoubtedly, most prevalent ideas employed by intellectuals—both on the left and the right—over decades and even centuries to critique collective trends and decisions. To risk a slight oversimplification, we can summarize this hypothesis as follows: contemporary societies are mass collectives, and dominant political currents, through the media and cultural-educational apparatuses, often succeed in deceiving these masses, leading them to adopt “false consciousness” instead of achieving “true awareness.” Consequently, the masses prioritize the “fabricated interests” constructed by others over their own “real interests.”

Undoubtedly, the left and right versions of this hypothesis differ significantly, sometimes fundamentally, but they all share certain core elements: (1) the centrality of consciousness; (2) the mass nature of society; (3) the vulnerability of these masses; (4) the corruptive and misleading role of dominant media; (5) the necessity of emancipatory intervention by intellectuals; (6) the importance of relentless critique of existing false consciousness; and (7) the need for fundamental transformation in the realm of consciousness. Yet, this hypothesis faces a foundational problem from the outset: if consciousness is the cornerstone of human understanding and action, why, for instance, has Trump’s overt hostility toward the marginalized—women, minorities, and the underprivileged—not led to a widespread rejection of him, particularly among these groups, especially after eight years of public and political infamy? 

This is where the more complex and innovative analysis of Slavoj Žižek, “The Left Must Start from Zero” (4), offers a way out of the hypothesis of deception. Žižek identifies the current moment as a sort of “ground zero” for the left—a point from which it must accept that it starts anew, as the real issue at hand is not merely the triumph of the right but the failure of the left. As expected, Žižek begins by contrasting the stark, uncompromising politics of Trump with the "nonpolitics or antipolitics" or lack of politics embodied by Kamala Harris. Drawing upon his long-held thesis regarding the necessity of a “leftist Thatcher,” he argues that “What Democrats failed to learn from Trump is that, in a political battle, ‘extremism’ works.” However, Žižek wisely cautions against portraying Harris or the Democratic leadership as genuinely leftist, noting that this caricature is a right-wing strategy to demonize opponents. At best, Democrats are the elite defenders of a “liberal order” enamoured of the political centre.

Going further, Žižek begins his deconstruction of Trump’s renewed successby asking the precise and pressing question: why, despite relatively sound economic performance under Biden, did “a considerable majority of Americans perceive their economic predicament as dire?” Naturally, Žižek turns to ideology—but not in the classical sense. Instead, he approaches it in terms of “how political discourse functions as a social link” This leads him to the concept of “identification,” a process through which even Trump’s weaknesses bolster his popularity among ordinary people.

It would be a mistake to assume that the contradiction between Trump’s ideological message (defending conservative values) and his public persona (unethical and anti-conventional), representing a postmodernist performative logic, would be a destructive contradiction destined for collapse. On the contrary, it is precisely this paradoxical personality and behaviour that enables the construction of an identity that is simultaneously reactionary and postmodern—a point of reference with which any “ordinary people who appear decent and talk in a normal, rational way” can align their own identity. Hence, the endless fact-checking and exposés by liberals about Trump’s lies and scandals do little more than reinforce and expand this common identification with Trump who, paradoxically, is actually farther from such people than anyone else.

Žižek astutely critiques the self-righteous liberal disdain for the poor supporting one of the most unabashed champions of elite-friendly economic policies. More incisively, he finds the leftist response even worse: “They adopt a patronizing attitude, ‘understanding’ the confusion and ignorance of the poor from a position of superiority.” Hence, one must avoid outright dismissal of Trump and his modus operandi. Every one of his actions is part of “a populist strategy to sell this agenda to ordinary people”—an agenda that is, ironically, entirely against their interests. What the left must learn from this situation is to embrace and confront the challenge that has long been before it: to abandon the position of the Beautiful Soul, overcome the fear of appearing radical, and, consequently, act radically. This is the only viable strategy to resist the gradual yet enduring tragedy of Trumpism—a period that, devoid of farce, could indeed “mark the true end of what was most valuable in our civilization.”

Žižek, therefore, eschews an emphasis on education and consciousness, turning instead to the political in its Hobbesian-Schmittian sense: a cold and brutal engagement that pursues conflict through the friend/enemy dichotomy to its ultimate conclusion. This approach stands in opposition to the “culturalization of politics” favored by critics of ideology, opting instead for the “politicization of culture.” It avoids the labyrinth of consciousness, refuses to reduce the populace to a vulnerable mass, and ultimately champions a radical, popular form of politics over the overt elitism of emancipatory educational projects.

However, if this is the issue and that is the solution, why did Trump’s governance during his first term, contrary to Žižek’s expectations and aspirations, fail to trigger “a great awakening”? (5) Could it be that framing the problem in terms of a lack of true consciousness (and the necessity of critical civic education) or the absence of sufficient volition (and the defense of autonomy of the political) ultimately reduces both perspectives to two sides of the same coin—a neglect of the real and undeniable existence of the tragedy itself? Do these analyses, despite their differences, ultimately interpret the situation not through the lens of equivalence between 'perfection and reality', but in terms of absence, deficiency, and lack? This, in essence, reflects an ontology more aptly described as “non-ontology.”

Reframing the Analysis: From Lack to Affirmation

If we wish to move beyond these negative interpretations, how might we address the issue at hand? And, crucially, how might we open a pathway toward critique and transformation? Here, the principle of realism offers guidance: we must acknowledge and recognize what has occurred exactly as it is, without recourse to notions of absence, lack, or deficiency. There is no vacuum, no void at work. What we face is not "false consciousness," lack of will, or any form of psychological or physical inadequacy; rather, it is a distinct type of consciousness and volition—one that must be accepted and understood in its full reality, even and especially as we want to critique it. This moment marks the separation of ethics from morality, of politics from Satire. Ethical-politics, rooted in affirmation, focuses not on what “ought to be” but on what “is,” with any alternative it proposes arising organically from the very fabric of just this being itself.

With this in mind, the essential question shifts: what “is,” rather than what “is not”? Put differently, if we focus on presence rather than absence to explain the phenomenon before us, what conclusions might we reach? And, more importantly, what fundamental logic underpins this situation? If we resist the temptation to search for deeper, hidden layers and instead begin at the so-called surface of appearances, the tragic return of the farce might confront us with one of the oldest and most crucial questions in modern political philosophy, as Spinoza articulates: “Why do people fight for their servitude as if for their freedom?” How is it that masses of people, despite overwhelming evidence of the catastrophic consequences of their choices (even without presuming the alternative is necessarily much better), 'voluntarily' step forward to embrace a figure whose every action, decision, and statement undermines their agency? Or, to phrase it more directly and provocatively: what is the secret of this desire for the master, for servitude, for a paternal figure (albeit not protective, but, as Žižek tend to insists, vulgar) that persists despite endless exposés, warnings, and resistance?

From Étienne de La Boétie to Schizoanalysis: The Desire for Servitude

From Étienne de La Boétie, the pioneer of this line of inquiry, to the present, many have grappled with this enigma of why humans desire their own servitude. De La Boétie eloquently pointed to the power of habit, the institutional machinery of the state, and the seductive allure of entertainment. Contemporaneous with him, Machiavelli highlighted the suppression of conflict, the tradition of autocracy, and the failure to establish institutions that safeguard freedom, while Spinoza, approximately a century later, discussed the human bondage to passions and the submission to authoritative commands. More recently in the 20th century, Deleuze and Guattari’s monumental Capitalism and Schizophrenia project offers one of the most creative and comprehensive accounts within this tradition, striking at the heart of the matter: desire. Specifically, the distortion—or more precisely, the restriction—of desire into what they term the “desire for servitude.”

Rather than appealing to psychological mechanisms like 'repression' or 'foreclosure' to explain the undesirable, we must ask why vast numbers of individuals "voluntarily" and passionately march toward the slaughterhouse of reason, truth, and well-being, endorsing their own ruin. Here, we go beyond Foucault’s account of power relations as mechanisms of normalization, discipline, and knowledge-power production aimed at subjugation. Instead, we must delve into power not merely (or primarily) from above or through dispositifs, but as emanating from below, from the very fabric of desire itself. How does the desire for servitude percolate throughout the social body, rising from below to shape racism, xenophobia, and even fascism? In this context, we are dealing not with so-called 'false consciousness' or lack of power, but with subjects and objects that are themselves products of a desire that constructs and sustains these structures. Desire becomes causa sui shaping both the individual and the social machinery it sustains. 

With these considerations in mind, and if we view the situation through the lens of desire, what we have (and again, not "what we lack") is a specific assemblage of desire built not on truth, happiness, or freedom, but rather on the foundations of mendacity, hatred, and servitude. This dispositif or apparatus, as Foucault might describe it, constitutes a network of points, lines, and connections that enables the observation, articulation, creation, reinforcement, and weakening of the phenomena, ultimately culminating in xenophobia, identity cults, and opposition to truth. This is by no means a "false" desire; instead, it is a constrained and shackled desire—a desire aimed at neutralizing the impulse for persistence and expansion within existence. Consider how, in racism, xenophobia, and fascism, individuals’ energies are devoted to exclusion, elimination, and destruction. Openness, resilience, and creation are denounced, and there is no affirmation or positivity at play except for the perpetuation of increasingly sophisticated mechanisms of repression, annihilation, and death—even, ultimately, the death of the self. This manifests as a form of collective suicide, the ultimate telos of any project rooted in the desire for servitude—from the World Wars to today’s "global war regime", according to Hardt and Mezzadera.(6)

Yet, simply recognizing and identifying what exists cannot suffice as a genuine political realism. For such realism must, at once, identify the origins, tendencies, and spatiotemporal possibilities for alternative futures. If what we face is a fascistic assemblage of desire, then such a grand dispositif cannot be reduced to mere consciousness, pedagogy, volition, or party programs. We must return to the immanent plane of social existence—a pervasive field wherein a significant portion of the social body strives toward death. Indeed, the true name of any desire for suppression of difference, annihilation of otherness, and collective suicide is fascism—a desire that we have to acknowledge arises from the below. It is a power that seeks to disable the mechanisms of power itself, cells that, in their proliferation and interconnection, demand their own demise. Countless black holes of desire ultimately coalesce, seeking unity in a vast, overarching black hole intent on annihilating existence itself. This is a longing for grandeur achieved through the elimination of the others, the obliteration of victims, and, eventually, even the self-sacrifice of the foot soldiers of this war regime.

Thus, to trace the origins of this phenomenon, we must investigate not just educational and political institutions but the entirety of social life. From the smallest intimate relationships to the largest public and national gatherings, these are the cells and organs of the machinic desire for servitude: friendships, families, schools, social networks, associations, and every body and spatiotemporal entities founded on similarity, identity, unity, hostility, and obedience. Yes, this is fascism—but not as ideology or deception, nor as the absence of will. Fascism as an all-encompassing desire, arising from the below, for reaching as soon as possible to the end. The end of the chaos that is life itself. The desire for respite, for release from the burden of the Other, the dizziness of difference, and the clamour of existence. The desire to stop, to disable the engines of life’s dynamism, to seek refuge beneath the shadow of a Father (or Fathers). Were Freud present, he would likely sum it up as the (absolute and universal) “death drive.”

Desire and Subjects in the Fascist Assemblage

Yet every dispositif, and therefore every assemblage of desire, operates through a dual relationship with subjects—subjects who, in a perpetual process of construction and reconstruction, both produce and reproduce themselves alongside these grand constructs. Superstitious, xenophobic, and fascist subjects, as products of myriad social institutions, actively contribute to the creation of macro-fascisms that coalesce under various specific names to raise the banners of war and death: Donald Trump, Jair Bolsonaro, Narendra Modi, Benjamin Netanyahu, Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, and so forth. These subjects, driven by a thirst for destruction and death, seek to elevate a master—be it Adar or Sauron (to recall The Lord of the Rings)—targeting free life and sparing no effort in constructing camps of servitude. They ignore systemic lies and endless distortions of truth, indulge in hate-mongering, ridicule, and hostility toward Others, minorities, and the marginalized. This is no longer the deceived or powerless subject critiqued by the hypotheses of deception or weakness. Rather, it is an intensely aware and active subject whose awareness serves ignorance, and whose activity fosters weakness.

Moving From Non-Being to Being

It is only under these conditions that we can move away from non-being (and, consequently, non-ontology) and instead begin with being (and, consequently, ontology). As Hardt and Negri emphasize in their critique of racist right-wing movements, the issue is not even hatred but rather a form of love—a love that invests not in connection but in disconnection, a restricted, limiting, and constraining love oriented toward unity and perpetually seeking and establishing homogeneous units. (7) Here too, we are not dealing with unawareness, "false consciousness", bad consciousness, or a lack of "will to power", but rather with closed and debilitating forms of awareness, will, and love that, far from expanding existence, entrap subjects in servitude, laying the groundwork for their weakness, dissolution, and death. 

We return, then, to just the very aware, active subjects who shape and derive sustenance from a deadly assemblage. These micro black holes scattered across the social body, from families to nations, have undergone the investment of fascist desire. They are, by now, apathetic about the warnings, reproaches, and pleas of intellectuals proclaiming the truth, and their bodies are far from eager to join the ranks of freedom militants. These are conscious and active agents of a dangerous movement who, with remarkable ease, goggle at all truths—knowingly and even jubilantly—and readily spark civil wars to enthrone their master. Without this “training of micro-fascist desire,” the emergence of macro-fascism would be unthinkable. Only when antagonistic emotions, passions, and ideas dominate the bodies and minds of a significant segment of a society’s citizens can chauvinistic, racist, and fascist scenarios gain traction at a systemic level, intertwining disparate points into expansive, interconnected networks.

The immense and lethal power of macro-fascism lies precisely in the invulnerability of its subjects to critique, enlightenment, and appeals for liberation. These are individuals who fight for their servitude as though it is their salvation.

Toward Schizoanalysis of Desire

Thus, rather than critique of ideology, discourse analysis, or directly inflaming socio-political antagonisms, we must, as Deleuze and Guattari insisted, engage in the schizoanalysis of these libidinal investments. Why and how do subjects enthusiastically and with unimaginable passion desire servitude, death, and self-destruction as though striving for freedom, life, and happiness? If we accept that desire is not an innate force or instinct to be repressed or liberated, but rather a socio-historically constructed phenomenon produced by the myriad factories of societal institutions, then we must shift our focus from the “autonomy of the political” and periodic debates about electoral campaigns to a politics that is pervasive, radical, and distributed across the spatiotemporal fabric of social being. The political unconscious not only intervenes incessantly but is itself continuously produced and reproduced. From here, we may lay the groundwork for crafting a new mode and form of assemblage of desire.

While it may seem that we are now ensnared in the constricted space-times of the control society, we must not forget that control, domination, and servitude are ultimately reactions— seemingly potent and terrifying, but reactions nonetheless. Reactions to a tremendous force emanating from below, one that requires these grand and pervasive assemblages of macro-fascism to subdue it. For, perhaps the potential for creation, empowerment, and the establishment of open and luminous spaces of human society—the free republic of joyful and wise citizens—has never been as ripe as it is now.

This claim may appear extravagant and far-fetched, or, alternatively, such discourse may be dismissed as utopian and dangerously reckless in its yearning "to make heaven on earth". Yet even imagining such novel spaces might provoke anger and outrage among those enamoured of tragedy. Of late, xenophobes, and fascists have once more been filled with wholesome aversion at the words: “the free commonwealth of joyful and wise citizens”. Well and good, ladies and gentlemen, do you want to know what this commonwealth might looks like? Look at the numerous spaces of flight, rupture, and escape from the chains of capital, domination, and the state. These are merely the prefigurations of such a society.

NOTES

1. Kamran Baradaran & Ballas, Anthony, "Against the Political Stasis, or the Story of a Fall”, Philosophy World Democracy vol. 3 no. 3 (17 March 2022): https://www.philosophy-world-democracy.org/articles-1/against-the-political-stasis-or-the-story-of-a-fall. 

2. See Shaj Mohan and Divya Dwivedi, Gandhi and Philosophy: On Theoretical Anti-politics, New Delhi: Bloomsbury, 2019.

3. Henry Giroux, "America’s Descent Into Fascism Can Be Stopped": https://www.counterpunch.org/2024/11/08/americas-descent-into-fascism-can-be-stopped/

4. Slavoj Žižek, "The Left Must Start From Zero", Compact 8 November 2024 https://www.compactmag.com/article/the-left-must-start-from-zero/ 

5. Slavoj Žižek, "Trump's Victory Is A Welcome Awakening", Telegrafi https://telegrafi.com/en/sllavoj-zhizhek-fitorja-e-trumpit-eshte-zgjim-mireseardhur-video/. 

6. Michael Hardt and Sandro Mezzadra, "A Global War Regime", New Left Review 9 May 2024, https://newleftreview.org/sidecar/posts/a-global-war-regime.

7. Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri, Assembly, Oxford University Press, 2017.