Over the past few weeks, a jumble of images has been flashing through my mind. Some are characters from movies I haven’t seen since childhood. Others are snippets from literature or iconic works of art. What connects them all is an exaggerated, almost kitschy sense of evil.
These images seem to stand in for the real carnage my brain is trying to process: bodies pulled from the rubble in Gaza, a school full of young pupils blown apart in Iran, more than a million people in southern Lebanon forced from their homes. (Alex from A Clockwork Orange appears, eyes clamped open as liquid drips into them, unable to blink away what scorches his vision.)
What’s so bewildering about the cruelty is how casually it’s allowed to pass. Donald Trump looms over this circus of death and chaos. (Billy, the clown-faced puppet from Saw, pops up rasping, “I want to play a game.”) Trump defies attempts to fit his actions into any coherent strategy. His wars, the killing of innocents, and even the threatening of entire civilizations are reshaping the world—yet without him orchestrating some grand plan. He is driven by little more than momentary impulses and resentments.
Trump’s apparent lack of vision or ideology is often misread as something that makes him less dangerous than the authoritarians of the past, who have become our template for evil. Consider the debate over whether Trump can be called “fascist.” “You can’t be a fascist,” argued the Wall Street Journal’s Barton Swaim, “without in any way meaning to be one.” Trump is inept, inconsistent, “puzzling and exasperating,” Swaim claims—but not a fascist.
Trump also doesn’t adhere to the style or affect of the classic fascist model: he doesn’t hold rallies in the same way, wear uniforms, or deliver fiery speeches from balconies to flag-waving crowds. He hasn’t (yet) fully overturned the constitution or dismantled democracy. He comes across as a confused comic figure, a man whose soul is laid bare in angry social media outbursts or rambling, unselfconscious speeches. He talks about war with Iran while flanked by a giant Easter bunny, posts images of himself as Jesus. He “always chickens out.” (Like a Wheeler from the dark fantasy Return to Oz: screeching, giggling, chasing—then wincing and withdrawing when its quarry strikes back.)
But isn’t this what evil is? A projection onto the world not of grand intent, but of smallness and fear? The consequences of violence matter less than the validation that comes from inflicting it. Trump’s constant self-aggrandizement, his grudges against political rivals, his fury at being challenged by the press, the revenge he promises on the Iranian regime—all are ways to erase and avoid a permanent terror of humiliation and obsolescence. (Like Goya’s wild-eyed Saturn devouring his son.)
It is in that very puniness that insatiable evil lies. In 1931, after Adolf Hitler’s Nazi party surged in the polls, he was interviewed by the American reporter Dorothy Thompson for Cosmopolitan. “When I walked into Adolf Hitler’s salon in the Kaiserhof hotel,” Thompson recalled, “I was convinced I was meeting the future dictator of Germany. In about fifty seconds, I was quite sure he was not. It took just that long to measure the startling insignificance of this man who has set the world agog.”
“Think of Benito Mussolini,” wrote journalist Barbara Grizzuti Harrison in the LA Times, “jackbooted, lantern-jawed, squeakily bombastic, posturing from the little balcony of his office on Piazza Venezia in Rome—that remarkably dopey stiff-armed Fascist salute, the absurd oratory. Think of that funny man, that consummate buffoon,” and remember that “just because something is silly doesn’t mean it isn’t dangerous.”
We tend to imbue history and its grave events with a seriousness andWe struggle to apply the lessons of the past to the present because it is difficult for the human mind to recognize evil when it appears in a ridiculous form. That is how it sneaks up on us. That is why we look back and wonder how such atrocities were ever permitted. The answer is that evil rarely arrives with the clear intent and obvious hallmarks of a villain. Instead, it comes through broken individuals whose power stems from an unquenchable desire to make themselves whole, regardless of the cost.
Alongside Donald Trump’s absurdity lies the fact that he has access to nuclear weapons and a sociopathic appetite for escalation—echoing Milton’s line, “Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven.”
Evil is a mix of frivolity, nonchalance, and fragility, as well as relentlessness, insatiability, and brutality. Consider the film series The Purge, where America legalizes all crime for 12 hours to purge society’s darkness. Yet for the characters, simply committing violence isn’t enough. They dress in elaborate costumes, wear gaudy makeup, and blast music, turning horror into a performance.
The film reveals that crime alone is not satisfying without the spectacle—the assertion that true power lies in treating grave sins trivially, as a form of play. It’s not just the act, but the license to perform it. Similarly, it isn’t enough that ICE separates families and uproots lives; the cruelty must be celebrated, as seen in images of Trump beside alligators wearing ICE caps, styled like a movie poster titled “Alligator Alcatraz.”
There is no appeasing or downplaying this kind of jubilant wickedness. It cannot be dismissed as non-ideological or lacking strategy, and therefore manageable. The unchecked cruelty and violence Trump unleashes and enables, both at home and abroad, draws on all that came before it. It must be confronted fiercely and urgently—or it will consume everything. As Patrick Bateman says in American Psycho: “My pain is constant and sharp, and I do not hope for a better world for anyone. In fact, I want my pain to be inflicted on others. I want no one to escape.”
Frequently Asked Questions
FAQs on the Statement Trumps Presidency Embodies Evil It is Absurd Frightening and Cruel
BeginnerLevel Questions
Q1 What does it mean to say a presidency embodies evil
A Its a strong moral judgment suggesting the administrations policies rhetoric and actions are seen not just as bad or misguided but as fundamentally representing cruelty corruption and a disregard for democratic norms and human dignity
Q2 Why do some people call Trumps presidency absurd
A Critics point to unconventional communication false or exaggerated claims and moments that broke traditional presidential decorum which they saw as chaotic and undermining the seriousness of the office
Q3 What was frightening about his presidency
A Many found the attacks on institutions the encouragement of political violence the handling of the COVID19 pandemic and the attempts to overturn the 2020 election results to be deeply alarming threats to democracy and public safety
Q4 Can you give an example of what critics call cruel policies
A A frequently cited example is the zero tolerance policy that led to family separations at the USMexico border where thousands of children were taken from their parents
Advanced Nuanced Questions
Q5 Isnt calling a presidency evil just partisan rhetoric How is it different from standard political criticism
A Proponents of this view argue it goes beyond policy disagreement They base it on a pattern they see as unique the intentional stoking of social divisions alleged encouragement of violence personal enrichment and normbreaking they believe targeted vulnerable groups and eroded trust in truth itself
Q6 Did Trumps supporters see his presidency this way Why or why not
A Generally no Supporters often saw his style as a necessary disruption of a corrupt swamp his rhetoric as telling it like it is and his policies as positive and justified They viewed criticism as elitist or mediadriven
Q7 What are the main historical or philosophical arguments used to support the evil characterization
