The collapse of the cult
As both leader of his party and his country he betrayed the public trust. When openly confronted with his crimes he lied shamelessly, effortlessly, pathologically, and he didn’t care who he hurt, what sacred institutions he betrayed or how his lies might impact every man, woman and child in the nation he swore to protect. For him, every crime he was accused of was a lie, and the real criminals were the growing number of people who believed the overwhelming evidence against him. And the more overwhelming that evidence the more he lied about it. The only thing he ever truly cared about or believed in was himself.
And yet because his party is not a cult he has been driven ignominiously from office. Because his constituents don’t belong to a cult he is universally despised and almost instantly forgotten. Because his power isn’t derived from his personality but the office he held he no longer has any power.
Despite his massive, bizarre head of disarrayed blond hair and oddly charismatic (to some) ways, the people who used to support him no longer support him. All because he is not a leader of a cult. All because his name isn’t Donald Trump, it’s Boris Johnson. Because the nation in question isn’t America but Great Britain.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the difference between a cult and a non cult. Boris never had any red hats, he never had any slogans, nobody ever cared what he had to say on social media. No one ever lost sight of who he was and what he was supposed to do. And when he failed to do what he promised to do they didn’t cover up for him. They simply did what any relatively healthy government does, they got rid of him and moved on.
Boris Johnson quickly became irrelevant. He is out of power and he is therefore mostly out of our thoughts. He has become a minor footnote in history. People will talk about him less next week than they did this week. Nightly newscasts almost never begin with the mention of his name any more.
Meanwhile, in the United States, despite being out of office for two and a half years, virtually every broadcast in America begins with the words “Donald Trump.” To be sure, it’s in part because he’s facing serious and growing criminal charges. But those charges are disparaged and denied by huge numbers of politicians and Americans. To them, it doesn’t matter how many criminal charges Trump faces in the coming months and years, to members of his cult they are lies by definition.
To Trump’s glassy-eyed idolaters his guilt is and always will remain unfalsifiable. The evidence is irrelevant. He could (literally) shoot someone on Fifth Avenue and, not only would he not lose any votes, what supporters he had would increase their support. They would send him even more money than they’re already sending.
Such a thing is almost impossible to imagine happening here in Britain. On this island its people are oddly immune to cults. There’s something different in the national character that I can’t quite define. It’s not a lack of partisan fanaticism. Britons are weirdly fanatical about football and their local clubs. But when it comes to politics and politicians nobody ever becomes misty-eyed. If you’re a politician and you do your job and you do it well you might get a begrudging word of thanks. But no matter how famous and iconic you become, Britons will boot you straight out the door the minute they get tired of you. Just ask Winston Churchill.
If you want a metaphor I’ll give you one. Britons are cats, Americans are dogs. Americans are from Mars, Britons aren’t particular about what planet they’re on, so long as there’s beer and football and a job to do. I can’t imagine a phenomenon like Trump happening on a small planet like this one. It’s just different here.
Whatever it is, this national immunity from cults is a thing favoured by political evolution. It has kept Britons safer from evil people. To be sure, there are just as many evil people here as exist in the United States, and they do plenty of harm. It’s just that the harm they do is somewhat diminished by the British unwillingness to blindly follow.
In short, Britain is not ideal soil for planting cults. Where cults are concerned, on the other hand, America’s soil is ideal and fertile and as dark and rich as chocolate cake, and Donald Trump is its quintessential farmer.
The cure for this irrational proclivity for cultism is — and I hope you’ll forgive me for once again banging this familiar drum — critical thinking. America would not be where it is today via a vis Trump were it not for its endemic will to believe almost anything. I would encourage Americans to stop looking for a saviour and start looking within. Our vote is our most powerful prayer, and a healthy recognition that politicians are imperfect will diminish any chance of their ever being deified. And, as ever, ladies and gentlemen, brothers and sisters, comrades and friends, stay safe.
Robert Harrington is an American expat living in Britain. He is a portrait painter.