To readers of my weekly comments
I gave up on keeping a schedule because it was too depressing. I now realize that it was more than that. I was getting increasingly angry and it was affecting my daily life. But at times I cannot overcome my need to understand, so I decided to share some of my perplexities on an irregular basis. Hence, I will post “Musings,” which will be numbered but not dated.
Backsliding?
The term used most frequently by social scientists to describe steps that undermine democracy is “backsliding.” Cognates include “deconsolidation,” “erosion,” or “retrogression”. However one labels these steps, their effect is twofold: they increase “partisan advantage,” the probability that the incumbent would win the next election, and they free the executive from control by legislatures and courts, increasing executive discretion in policy making. I focus only on the first aspect. (For a superb summary of Trump’s measures in the comparative context of backsliding, see carnegieendowment.org/research/2025/08/us-democratic-backsliding-in-comparative-perspective?)
People I listen to or read differ whether the Trump administration is engaged in backsliding. Opinions range from a view that it is too early to say, to a view that it obviously is, to a view that Trump’s authoritarian measures go well beyond backsliding observed elsewhere.
The measures taken by chief executive considered to constitute “backsliding” are almost invariably justified in a democratic language and can be judged as anti-democratic only by either imputing their intent or by speculating about their consequences. Erdogan, for example, extended the right to vote to Turkish citizens residing abroad, proclaiming that he is extending political rights. Republican measures requiring additional documentation at the polls are justified as preventing electoral fraud. Allowing unlimited flow of money to politics, in the US as well as in India, is just freedom of expression. Purchase of media by government cronies does not even require a democratic justification: it is just an ordinary market transaction. Only ex post we learn that Erdogan won an election by the vote of Turks in Berlin, that poor people who did not have the required documents were prevented from voting, that the Indian BJP enjoyed a massive financial advantage in the election, or that Orban allies control most of the media.
Measures that are justified in a democratic language cannot be rejected by appealing to universal norms of democracy. People may have different views as to whether citizens residing abroad should have the right to vote; in fact, most countries I know do allow it. There are no grounds to reject it as “anti-democratic.” “Preventing fraud” may appear to be more transparent, particularly when there is no evidence of fraud, but again there is no democratic argument against it, and all countries require some documentation. Such measures are not “stealthy”: they are public and can be observed by everyone. So judging them as anti-democratic must appeal to their consequences, namely, that they will results in a regime in which incumbents cannot be removed from office by elections, and such a regime is not a democracy.
Judging by consequences entails conjuring some causal models and then imputing intentions: “They are doing this because they believe it will make them win.” Sometimes “they” err: in Italy, Berlusconi did the same as Erdogan and shot himself in the foot. But even if the incumbents openly seek to increase their electoral advantage, there is nothing inherently anti-democratic about it, just normal life of democracy. So when does it become “backsliding”? Changing the rules of elections in favor of the incumbent, weakening opposition parties (including their sources of financing), selectively undermining institutions of the civil society, repressing hostile media, persecuting particular organizations and individuals are among the measures that are likely to make the incumbent win elections. Accumulation of such measures has a cumulative effect. But the threshold between ordinary democratic politics and “backsliding” is fluid, so in the end we need to ask “Where is it leading?”
How should we think about Trump’s instruction to the DOJ to persecute his political opponents? How should we think about the anti-”Antifa” threats (see below)? How should we think about politicization of the National Guard, not to speak of ICE? I browsed through several of Trump’s Executive Orders and could not find any reference to “democracy.” They are brazenly partisan, brazenly ideological, and they brazenly instrumentalize the entire government for partisan purposes. They do not look like the instances of backsliding I know. Backsliding is a stable “intermediate” or “hybrid” regime in which the government maintains the appearances of democracy, tolerates some opposition, and holds elections. It takes steps to make it almost invulnerable to elections but stops short of crossing some threshold. Backsliding governments win successive elections but some uncertainty remains and in Poland the PiS government actually lost. The MAGA government seems to be preparing to go beyond backsliding, to impose itself by using force. As I see it, Trump is not backsliding, he is taking steps to a full-fledged autocracy.
Antifa: Executive Order of September 22, 2025
This EO designates “Antifa” it as a “domestic terrorist organization.” Notably, contrary to most Executive Orders, it does not begin with “By the authority invested in my by the Constitution and the laws of the United States.” The reason is obvious: the President has no authority to declare any domestic, as distinct from foreign, organization as “terrorist.’ Antifa is first referred to an “enterprise,” then as an “organization.” It is neither; at most it is a political posture. But the intent is clear: the EO instructs government agencies to persecute any actions “conducted by Antifa or any person claiming to act on behalf of Antifa, or for which Antifa or any person claiming to act on behalf of Antifa provided material support ....” I find this phrasing exceptionally ominous, because it empowers government agencies to act against any organization it identifies as “Antifa.” It is a blanket authorization for political repression.
Presidential immunity
The conviction of President Bolsonaro on five counts, including an attempted coup d’état, raises some prudential issues, not only legal ones. Punishing chief executives for criminal acts they committed generates a strong warning for them and for their potential imitators not to do the same. But if they succeed to come to power knowing that they would be punished if they lose it, they will do everything possible not to lose it. Hence, such punishments are a double-edged sword.
One strategy is to just ignore whatever the criminals did while in office. Thus, Brazil (and originally Uruguay) declared a general amnesty for the military when they left office. The military learned that little was at stake in giving power; they could just quietly withdraw into the barracks without a threat to their lives, freedom, or property. The opposite strategy was to punish the military for the murders they ordered to be committed, as in Argentina. Punishing for crimes committed in power must be accompanied by measures that would prevent their imitators from doing it again, and in Argentine to a large extent it was. The conviction of Bolsonaro was accompanied by convictions of several top military officers, unprecedented in the history of Brazil, and at least thus far the armed forces remained mute, so it seems to have been successful.
The worst possible sequence is to threaten and not pursue. This is what happened in the US. The Brazilian court found that Bolsonaro incited his supporters to storm government buildings on January 8, 2023. Trump was charged with the same but “incitement” is hard to prove. Bolsonaro was also convicted for attempted abolition of the democratic rule of law, an attempted coup d’état, and criminal conspiracy. Trump’s attempt to falsify the Georgia election was recorded, so there was no doubt that he engaged in an act for which Bolsonaro was found guilty. Yet the Georgia prosecution did not advance to trial before Trump won in 2024. He is now obsessed with vengeance against his accusers and there is nothing to stop him.
P.S. Nicolas Sarkozy was just sentenced to five years in prison, the first French president ever. Some people on the Right object, but the lesson that no one is above the law has been given and it will stick.
“Tax the rich”
Following French politics, I was struck by what happened, extremely suddenly, basically within the past two weeks. There have been several academic and journalistic articles in France claiming that the left-right dimension lost its political salience and that we have to understand French politics as multi-dimensional. Not long ago, a large majority, 71%, of French survey respondents agreed that “the notions of the Left and the Right are obsolete.” And, then, a long-standing proposal by an economist, Gabriel Zucman, to impose a 2% tax on fortunes larger than 100 M euros, entered into the public domain. The wealthiest man in France proclaimed it to be a disaster, the moron who comments on economics on TF1 announced that all the fortunes will leave France, while the Socialist Party made it a necessary condition for not voting non-confidence in the government. Suddenly “tax the rich” squeezed political postures in France back to one dimension. And 68% of survey respondents support the tax.
Would it have the same effect in the United States?
Jon Stewart with DNC Chair Ken Martin
On September 25, Jon Stewart received the DNC Chair Ken Martin. It was, I thought, what the French would call “a dialogue of the deaf.” Stewart wanted Martin to articulate some central message of the Democratic Party. Martin refused, defending the Party as an “umbrella” that covers a variety of messages. He argued that what works in one district in Minnesota is not what works in an adjacent district and Democrats should just listen to what voters in particular districts want. Stewart would not take it as an answer, insisting that Democrats must have something to say.
Now, I have repeatedly taken Stewart’s position, complaining that Democrats have nothing to offer and claiming that they cannot win elections unless they do. But then I thought of an old, 1972, paper by Kenneth Shepsle, entitled “The Strategy of Political Ambiguity,” and the polemic it generated. Think of two electoral strategies. In one a party emits a unified message, perhaps with some minor variations. In the second, it says different things to different voters, not necessarily coherent and perhaps sometimes contradictory. If voters cared about logical coherence, the first strategy would be obviously superior. But if voters in one district ignore what the party says in another district, which strategy is more effective? As an intellectual, I want logical consistency but perhaps this is just my bias. Perhaps presidential elections require some unified message but legislative elections do not. Who knows?
Disciplinary blinders
As I listen to scholars from different academic disciplines, I am struck that we all have disciplinary blinders. How do they limit our understanding of the Trump regime?
The blinder of constitutional lawyers is that they cannot think beyond what should happen according to the law. They can assess whether a particular action is or is not legal. They can judge whether a particular legal decision has a constitutional foundation and whether it is correctly argued. But they cannot imagine a world which is lawless, specifically one in which the government brazenly flaunts laws. They arrive at “Then we will have a constitutional crisis” and this is where they stop. Perhaps, however, this is where we should begin. Game theory would tell us that if the government wants to win the next election, it will do whatever maximizes its chances. It may well be true that the government fears that openly defying court rulings would make some potential voters who would have otherwise voted for it turn against it. But it may be that voters who like government policies which the courts find illegal or unconstitutional would vote for it because it is willing to defy courts in pursuit of their values. Obviously, the issue does not arise if the government obeys judicial verdicts, which includes the possibility that the courts try to avoid open conflicts with the government, fearing that the government would go ahead anyway and prevail, as well as the possibility that the court shares the values of the government and is willing to declare whatever the government does constitutional.
Economics is different because it is an imperialist discipline. Economists have ventured into every aspect of human behavior by applying their method, which is to assume objectives, specify the possible range of actions and beliefs about their consequences, and then to deduce actions. Yet economists divide. Most economists I ever heard insist on finding an economic motivation behind any observed pattern. To give just one example: A striking gap in voting behavior in the US is between married men and unmarried women. One might think that this gap results from some cultural factors but economists will always find some, convoluted, story that will reduce it to income. In turn, those economists who are willing to accept that people may have non-economic motivations -- they call them “culture” -- still apply their methods. But, while relaxing the assumption that “agents” -- as economists dub people who act -- have only economic considerations is liberating, their method still requires economists to assume some kind of strategic rationality. I instinctively think like economists do but then I run into puzzles which I cannot resolve. Why would people, who according to economists will become worse off economically under Trump, vote for him? The best I can get from economists is that voters reacted to the post-Covid inflation (the price of eggs) and were unable to form forecasts about their incomes under Trump. But then these voters were not forward-looking strategic decision makers. Finding a rationale for several of Trump’s actions -- a topic of many conversations these days -- is even more puzzling: why would he move against people, such as Comey, who have opposed him in the past but who are politically irrelevant today? It appears to be just blind revenge but, again, revenge is not a forward-looking strategic action.
I do not include my discipline, political science, only because it does not have a unified view of the world. We borrow approaches from other disciplines, including law and economics, also psychology, about which I do not know enough to comment.
Thank you for returning to your reflections! They always make us think and remind us that we are not alone. If Przeworski has doubts, why shouldn’t I have them too? Jokes aside, perhaps political science is indeed going through a crisis of understanding. For a long time, it was believed that the PLO could not be surpassed in the process of political control in Palestine, and that the Orthodox could not take part in the State of Israel. It was thought that what happened in Poland and Hungary could not happen in Europe. A sense of certainty that was rooted in this crisis of understanding: “What has not happened cannot happen.”
Perhaps we need to look again at the creative dimension of social processes and the very innovation within the social process itself. The crisis of understanding is best grasped in relation to those things once affirmed as impossible.
Best regards, Fátima!
Looking from afar, I was amazed at how the debate about Trump’s actions always ended up being framed as “a constitutional crisis.” Most people seem unwilling to use words like “coup,” “autocracy,” or “dictatorship.” Instead, it is reduced to a vague and mysterious “constitutional crisis.”