
Ever since Donald Trump won the presidency in 2016, the Democratic Party establishment has accused him of being a populist. The term “populist” gets thrown around so much, used by affluent liberals to characterize a plethora of politicians across the political spectrum, as an almost derogatory term to describe progressives like Bernie Sanders and “conservatives” like Donald Trump alike. However, the usage of the word is inaccurate in both instances.
Trump does not represent a threat to democracy because he is a populist; in fact, the term is not suited for him at all. He should instead be described as a “caudillo,” and the rise of this caudillo to power reflects the deeper institutional challenges faced by working-class Americans today. The election of Trump signals a threat to representative democracy because it is the end result of fundamental, inequitable economic changes that the working class has endured for decades.
Effective, well-informed participatory politics demands the presence of a large electorate population with the time and resources that enable mobilization. To prevent the working class’ misplacement of faith in caudillo-like politicians in future elections, the country must undergo vast democratic economic reform that prioritizes leveling the economic playing field for working-class citizens.
Caudillo is a Spanish word that refers to a military leader who assumes dictatorial powers in times of crisis. A notable example is Mexican caudillo, Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, who held the presidency intermittently from 1832 to 1853. His era, the “Age of Santa Anna,” was marked by Texan independence and the proceeding war with the United States, which resulted in Mexico losing half its territory.
Santa Anna did not attain power through democratic means, unlike Trump, who rose to power via election, yet their rhetoric is strikingly similar: Both leaders sold the populace the idea that they alone could save citizens from a real or perceived threat. Santa Anna told 19th-century Mexicans that he alone could save them from the American invaders, and Trump in the 21st century tells Americans that he alone can save them from the perceived economic threat posed by Mexican immigration.
Post-independence 19th-century Mexico was fragile, with little institutional capacity. Presidential contests were rarely decided by popular vote, but rather by which general was best positioned to march troops into Mexico City and dethrone the incumbent. Politicians of Mexico’s northern neighbor, the United States, looked on in disgust. In their view, the Anglo-Saxon race was above such petty power conflicts.
The narrative shifted after the American Civil War. Politicians realized they had fallen to the level of their despised southern neighbor, and theorists declared the “Mexicanization of American politics.” Many feared that the war would be the first of multiple crises that would spiral into continuous civil wars. The period of “Mexicanization” culminated in the 1876 presidential election, when multiple electoral votes were contested.
The tensions between the Democratic and Republican parties rose to the point where President Ulysses S. Grant mobilized the army in Washington, D.C., fearing both sides might take up arms. Ultimately, the crisis was resolved through an Electoral Commission and a series of closed-door meetings in which Republican candidate Rutherford B. Hayes promised Democrats he would withdraw federal forces from the South, effectively ending Reconstruction.
It has been 149 years since 1876, and American institutions are now more capable of managing the types of crises that led to the Civil War and the subsequent conflicts. Yet history is a reminder that the institutions relied on to maintain peace and stability did not appear out of nowhere; they were constructed and polished as the nation matured. Institutional stability is not guaranteed. All citizens are needed to safeguard national institutions, to protect them against erosion and to raise up a supportive pillar when necessary. For decades, economic elites have neglected to provide the working class with basic necessities that would enable them to be active constituents who could take the time to advocate for and uphold democratic safeguards.
The Great Recession of 2007 was an inevitable consequence of decades of deregulation and rampant speculative corporate practices, and political leaders responded to the suffering of the American people by bailing out the same corporations that engaged in speculation that led to the recession in the first place.
The Democratic Party further alienated working-class voters by shifting their platform focus from rural areas to suburban middle-class enclaves, creating conditions ripe for caudillo appeal in the since-overlooked rural communities. Disaffected rural voters were primed to believe that one strong leader alone could remedy their maladies. These structural conditions were essential to Trump’s mass rural success in the 2016 and 2024 elections.
Though, Trump never wielded a mystical “populist” sway over the American populace, having never won a majority vote in his three-election run. By comparison, in 1972, Richard Nixon won 60.2 percent of the popular vote, yet Nixon was never called a populist — despite having clearly captured the popular imagination far more passionately than Trump ever has. This is due to the fact that both parties’ policies were broadly social democratic in the post-WWII era; bipartisan support for welfare reform programs left elections to hinge on candidate character, producing landslide victories.
However, free market economics reigned supreme in the Reagan and post-Reagan political era, with the implementation of trickle-down “Reaganomics.” Legislation passed under the New Democrats, such as the Welfare Reform Act of 1996 and the North American Free Trade Agreement, marked the demise of the working class in American politics. The Supreme Court case Citizens United v. The Federal Election Commission represented yet another loss for the working class as it reformed campaign finance laws, which allowed corporations greater financial influence over elections and policy reform.
Through this lens, Trump would be far better understood as a caudillo: a leader whose power stems not from broad popular support but rather from the failure of institutions to represent key economic interests. He is president because political party establishments refuse to endorse transformative reform as a result of campaign funding ties to economic elites, whose interests run contrary to those of the working class.
If America is to endure, the lesson is clear: Neglecting the working class destabilizes both politics and social well-being. For a long time now, America has needed Economic Democracy. That is, the empowerment of the worker within the workplace through policies that improve conditions for the creation and expansion of unions and worker cooperatives. These policies would democratize the national economy, while at the same time creating a more economically sound workers’ bloc that would be better supplied to take the time to represent its interests in government.
Political democracy alone has proved insufficient in providing proper living standards for the working class. Economic democracy must be expanded and workers must be uplifted; otherwise, our representative democracy cannot survive. The inalienable rights espoused by our Founding Fathers have failed to actualize, due to widespread economic inequality. The time has come to realize life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness in the undeniably intertwined political and economic sphere.
Rafael Hernández Guerrero PZ ’29 is from El Refugio, San Luis Potosí, México and immigrated to Boulder, Colorado as a child. He doesn’t really know what’s going on and hopes you do.
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