It is no mystery how the whisper of communism still sends shivers down Americans’ spines. This reaction has been long conditioned and refined since the initial wave of panic following the First World War, coined as the First Red Scare. This innate fear was triggered by two major events: the 1917 Bolshevik Revolution in the USSR led by Vladimir Lenin as well as a surge in organised labour strikes and a nationwide bombing campaign led by anarchist groups in 1919. Both these events terrorised the public, perpetuating the idea that communism was indeed a poison—one that welcomed chaos and sought to destroy the glossed image of the American lifestyle. The US government responded quickly with the Palmer Raids, where they arrested thousands of individuals tied to leftist ideologies or believed to be involved in radical movements. Though controversial, this move seemed an adequate proposition as the public trembled in disdain against anything remotely communist, true or not. This fear resurged after the Second World War on a much larger, more paranoid scale. This beckoned the coming of the Second Red Scare (also known as McCarthyism) which was powered by nuclear tensions with the Soviet Union and the rise of communism across China. Though these events seem buried in the past, the impacts have not been so easily forgotten. In modern times, there is still a sour taste in Americans’ mouths when discussing socialism or Karl Marx in almost any context. It has forever driven a wedge in American politics and formulated a political landscape that continues to vilify socialist ideology. Furthermore, the political right continuously heightens hysteria on the left regarding ties to radical affiliations, forcing the Democratic Party towards the centre to avoid, though arbitrary, accusations of harbouring far-left ideologies. The very idea that the seemingly left-aligned political party is pushed to the centre because of the possible associations that could be made seems nonsensical on the grounds of legitimate democracy. Though it appears this idea of legitimate democracy is thus one based on that same notion of communist disdain. What is humorous is not this fact but that the line between left and radical has been so blurred that in modern and post-war America, it equates to identical ideological standpoints. The opposition party, as well as the government, have created such a successful campaign, leaving the supposed left-leaning party too afraid to lean to the left. Why? Because of that same fear that was ignited over a century ago, the unchanging contempt America just cannot seem to shake. This historic anxiety has not collapsed following that of the Soviet Union, but has been carried into a modern environment. Religion has had a part to play in keeping this hatred alive. In response to the “godless” nature of communism, Congress purposely added the phrase “under God” to the Pledge of Allegiance in 1954. In 1956, Congress then adopted “In God We Trust” as the official national motto and then accelerated its reach in 1957 by placing the motto on all paper currency. These actions aimed to tie religion to American patriotism and identity to boost morale, but also remind that it would not fall to a communist regime under any circumstances. By introducing religion, the government placed the opposition as not just an enemy of the American people but God himself. This is powerful because it shreds any ideological debate about communism being a mere political regime; it was consequently turned into a direct deviation from Christianity. The fight had been transformed into one of good versus evil, with the Lord as their witness. Modern political rhetoric follows the same framework, frequently labelling progressive social politics as secularist, Marxist, or communist threats. Leftist ideology has become a weapon of unspoken nuance and history that is wielded against almost anything that deviates from the theology of America. Corporate leaders and conservative ministers also joined forces during the Red Scare to fight the invasion of unwanted leftist politics. They framed unregulated capitalism as a divine right and necessary for a functioning America while painting socialism as a sin. This alliance gave birth to modern Christian libertarianism which heavily impacts today’s political relations between the conservative Christian base and free-market capitalists. Through factors such as these, it is no surprise that the average American is still panic-stricken when discussing socialism. The Red Scare did not solely cause temporary fear; it aided the construction of a national identity in which Christianity and capitalism became fused to a common enemy: communism. Modern America was carved from this inheritance of national values, leaving behind a society that treats leftist ideology as something intrusive. The Soviet Union may have fallen, but the shadow it left behind still haunts America today. The lasting influence of The Red Scare is not sustained through memory alone, but also through the language of political grammar today.
By Adia May
On June 28th, the Associated Press released an article that highlighted claims comparing Trump to a monarch. These claims pointed to Trump’s partisan and self-focused plans while in the White House. For example, many Democrats such as House Rep. Maxine Dexter felt that Trump was performing shady activities with money for the bi-partisan “America250” by funneling it into a conservative “Freedom 250” powered partly by the Christian, MAGA-supporting Hillsdale College. Additionally, they point to other actions – such as his earlier demolition of the White House in order to create a ballroom – as very vain and financially irresponsible. To determine a proper stance on the matter, a broad review of Trump’s actions in office must be conducted. During Trump’s second term, compared to other executive orders, foreign policy orders dominated. Of these, many involved actions against the illicit drug trade through placing tariffs on warehouse imports, and others involved designating terrorist organizations. Trump’s foreign policies overwhelmingly reflect conservative fears against drugs and crime from previous presidencies such as that of Richard Nixon. Only now, there is an increased emphasis on terrorism, though this has arguably been a prevalent governmental undertone since 9/11. Trump’s actions align with the conservative agenda, and this is just one example of that. In environmental actions, Trump’s policies have primarily involved removing environmental safeguards to industrialism. The threat of these policies is not unanimous among viewers and his actions indeed reflect partisan goals (as most presidents’ do). What is unusual about Trump’s White House actions is his demeanor, not his policy. Trump has on multiple occasions posted to Truth Social (his conservative-powered social media app) in all capital, emotionally charged modes. Additionally, his sloppy uploading of AI images such as the infamous image of himself as Jesus healing a man arguably decreased public trust. While his executive actions are clear, his personal replies to global events create a shaky ground for Americans to stand on. Naturally, when reviewing his financial and ethical decisions we see a similar view. From him calling a female reporter a pig, to him erecting his own name on the Kennedy Center (which by a court ruling he quickly had to remove), to stating that there would be a Trump Rally on July 4th, our nation’s independence day, at the National Mall. Together, these actions put a bad taste in the mouths of non-MAGA Americans. So is America becoming a Monarchy? Not exactly. However, the claims on Trump’s vain character stand loudly – the very same ones that continue to bring his approval rates further down. This calls into question whether presidential behavior is just as important as their governmental success.
By Megan Fincher
“Politics” has become an umbrella term. What is meant by the “political” could range from moral convictions, pragmatic concerns, educational values, or religious beliefs. Perhaps the reason for partisan stand-offs is the use of politics as a stand-in for the existential—a distraction from questions we would rather not ask. Recent pro-life efforts have revived the abortion debate, advocating for policies that would criminalize the actions of the doctor performing the abortion and the woman receiving it. A series of less publicized choices have been brought to light, showing that what is characterized as a bitter political battle actually has very little to do with politics. Beyond the decision to abort, pro-choice policies have allowed for the determination that certain types of potential life are less desirable than others. Between 60% and 90% of pregnancies that receive a prenatal diagnosis of down syndrome end in abortion—the selective prevention of life. If left to natural development, these pregnancies would have resulted in the lives of down syndrome children. The fact that these children with down syndrome are terminated before birth is an ethical concern, one that cannot be explained by typical pro-choice reasoning. In these cases, the decision to abort was not prompted by a positive pregnancy test, but upon knowing the child would possess particular genes. Aborting on this basis does not merely degrade life inside the womb, but also life outside of it. One’s reaction to the thought of intentionally preventing down syndrome births likely depends on how they answer an old question: If someone will experience suffering, is it better for them to have never been born? If someone says ‘no’, they may view suffering as an inevitable facet of the human experience, one that nurtures virtuous character, strong will and a meaningful legacy. Intertwined with this view may also be the belief that preventing any and all hardship is not within human capacity, and thus is not justification to absolve someone of life. If someone answers “yes,” perhaps they consider it cruel to allow someone to endure preventable suffering, and believe that quality of life is depleted by pain rather than refined. Even within the school of conservative Christian thought—a large portion of pro-life advocacy—there is disagreement on such principles. Any hope of bipartisan understanding depends upon a collective willingness to grapple with our most profound assumptions. To that end, we must regard the normalization of assigning discriminant value to unborn lives with severe caution. Children born with any disability or special condition no doubt require a heightened level of care. Prospective parents face real fears of lacking proper emotional and financial capacity to ensure the child’s well-being. Wondering whether one is capable of being a good parent comes with the territory of having a family, as do overwhelming waves of self doubt. This healthy fear reflects recognition that taking care of a child—one with down syndrome nonetheless—is a serious commitment. Parents also realize the heartbreaking reality that they cannot protect their child forever, despite all their best efforts. Hardship is inevitable, and is not a determinant of life’s value. No one has lived without being subject to challenges, and those who have overcome them often say they would not change the past. As a culture, we cherish stories of redemption, revere the resilient and crave a reason to hope. If potential suffering is a reason to prevent new life, then hope is denied possibility. Choosing to abort out of fear for the child’s happiness may eliminate difficult experiences, but it also demeans the beauty, joy and profound good that could have been possible for them. Carrying children to term based on their certain qualities sets a devastating precedent, suggesting that only certain types of children are worthy to be born. Rather than argue the nature of conception or sentience, particular lives are implicitly deemed as less valuable or desirable than others—the heart of all discrimination—as the vast majority of down syndrome pregnancies are terminated. Aborting on this basis does not merely degrade life inside the womb, but also life outside of it. Selective abortions may not be actively celebrated as Nazi-era eugenics once were, but indifference is tragic in its own right. While the left is known to usually be against discrimination, the pervasive aborting of down syndrome children has been exclusively criticized by conservatives. At first glance, outrage on the right seems typical for a pro-life ethic. Yet, those with a liberal moral framework should be concerned about this subset of abortion policies. The left often has advocated for expanding the inclusion and dignity of the marginalized, giving all people, regardless of race, gender, wealth or disability, equal respect. The down syndrome community should hold a prominent place in the pursuit of toppling stereotypes and recognizing the innate value in a diverse humanity. In fact, the promotion of diversity stems from the belief that human differences add a beautiful dimension to society and the world at large. When confronted with stories of struggle, the natural reaction is not “it’s a shame you were born” but admiration. If this is so, then why do we think that we should end unborn lives to prevent their suffering? This is not a question of partisan loyalty. By packaging the abortion debate as political, we avoid something far more profound. Abortion, even in the name of mercy, assumes that a good life is void of hardship. If deciding which lives are worthy of being born is considered a human right, there is no limit to what actions humanity can justify.
By Mia Downing
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