US President Donald Trump. (File photo by Chip Somodevilla/Getty Images)
In recent months, Trumpism has manifested in numerous disruptive forms, ranging from imposing unilateral tariffs on many countries to the US’s withdrawal from the Paris Agreement on climate change.
We need to respond to Trumpism from an ethical point of view, but it has to be an ethics that speaks to the root causes of Trumpism, and not just the symptoms.
The global ethics of shared vulnerability can perform this role. It speaks to three experiences. First, although it has brought human progress, globalisation has caused real hurt in people’s lives. Second, people throughout the world are struggling to cope with the losses and anger entailed in this globalisation of woundedness. Third, their unresolved grief and anger are manipulated by anti-globalisation movements such as Trumpism.
We must pay attention to the second point — a country or a group failing to grieve and to manage their collective anger in a constructive manner. It is at the centre of the ethics of collective vulnerability.
We often talk about the problems that arise when individuals fail to grieve loss in their lives. We must also talk about the dangers that arise when a country or a section of society fails to grieve the loss and structural shifts wrought by globalisation. There are seven dangers that this poses and these are played out in Trumpism.
First, when collective anger and grief are allowed to go unsettled for too long, political leaders can manipulate these emotions to consolidate their political power. This leads to an escalating culture of political populism.
Second, whereas globalisation encourages interconnectedness, the populist culture, through nationalism, creates disconnectedness.
At the centre of this nationalism is the effort to harness collective anger and grief to convince the people that the negative effects of economic globalisation are unique to their nation and not felt elsewhere in the world. In reality, wherever you go in the world, you will experience the pressures of globalisation — such as unchecked migration; industry closures and relocation; job losses; systemic neglect of the middle class and the rise of contract work.
Third, when people struggle to deal with the wounds and feelings of vulnerability caused by globalisation, they often slip into a collective denial, acting as if their wounds and vulnerabilities do not exist.
To protect themselves from the uncomfortable truths of their shared vulnerability, the movement helps its members to escape from reality. It does this by crafting a kind of dream — a dream that they will be “great again”. This dream encourages members to invest their hopes and energy into it, allowing them to sidestep the harsh realities of their wounds and vulnerabilities inflicted by globalisation. An important aspect of this dream is to turn United States into a manufacturing superpower using supply chain nationalism and arbitrary-imposed tariffs.
Fourth, scapegoating becomes rampant. The movement leads its believers to think that there are countries and groups of people who are putting obstacles in the way of them achieving their dream of becoming great again. This is accompanied by a campaign that demonises these countries or groups as “enemies” or “parasites”.
Fifth, under the anti-globalisation movement, a deeply rooted culture of victimhood arises. Countries and groups start thinking of themselves as victims of some broader system. They fail to see the suffering of others. They often use this sense of victimhood as a justification for harming other countries or groups. They cling tightly to their victim status, because it provides a convenient excuse for destructive behaviour towards others and the global order.
Sixth, globalisation often leaves countries feeling as if too many things are beyond their control, particularly when they are fighting to become “great again”. This mindset can lead to the belief that, to regain a sense of control in the geopolitical landscape, it is necessary to disrupt the established international rules and multilateral organisations.
Seventh, countries or groups that are grappling with collective vulnerabilities and wounds are, at their core, searching for healing. But they believe that they can be healed only if they inflict pain or harm on other countries.
As a result, the movement drives us into a transactional world order where coercion and violence are the preferred solution to complex geopolitical issues, the ethics of compassion and fraternity is demonised, while forcible annexation of weaker nations, plunder of their resources, and even genocide, are made normal.
These seven manifestations of Trumpism account for the reasons masses are attracted to it. Trumpism is built on the experience of woundedness wrought by globalisation and the failure to address this woundedness in a constructive manner. As such, Trumpism or “Make America Great Again” movement does not depend on President Donald Trump being president. It will continue even after his term of office.
While Trumpism as an anti-globalisation movement is strong in the US and other Western countries, it will manifest itself in different forms in other continents. That is why we need to build a strong foundation for the ethics of shared woundedness.
How do we address the systemic and ethical failures of unfettered globalisation? How do we ensure that the shared wounds and anger resulting from globalisation, as well as various armed conflicts in the world, are not used as weapons to hurt other nations?
How do we ensure that the globalisation of our shared vulnerability unites us and does not further divide our already polarised world? What is the alternative world order that we need to build, an alternative to the world order envisaged by unfettered globalisation and that of Trumpism as an anti-globalisation movement? These are the questions that the ethics of shared woundedness need to address.
One thing is clear — if we do not use the ethics of shared vulnerability to challenge both globalisation movement and Trumpism as an anti-globalisation movement, the world will soon be placed on a dangerous path — a path that can lead to catastrophic trade war and the end of rule-based world order with ramifications of another great depression and possible third world war. This is the path we must avoid at any cost and we shall surely avoid it if we work for the building of a compassionate international world order — or a Samaritan international world order — founded on ethics of shared vulnerability.
Father Stan Muyebe is the director of the Justice and Peace Commission of the Southern African Catholic Bishops’ Conference.
Crédito: Link de origem