Twenty-two years ago, allied armies led by the United States thundered into Iraq with “shock and awe,” aiming to depose Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein and take away weapons of mass destruction he supposedly possessed. We quickly learned he had no such weapons — our intelligence was bad  — but we stayed on in Iraq ostensibly to turn it into a western-style democracy.

 

Our self-righteous swagger had deafened us to the wise counsel of President Dwight D. Eisenhower, who had left office 42 years earlier. In his farewell address Eisenhower warned against being drawn into unnecessary conflicts by the “military-industrial complex,” a term he coined. “We must guard against the acquisition of unwarranted influence . . . by the military-industrial complex,” he admonished. “The potential for the disastrous rise of misplaced power exists and will persist. We must never let the weight of this combination endanger our liberties or democratic processes.” 

 

By the time the U.S. withdrew from Iraq in 2011, 4,500 U.S. service members had been killed and 32,000 more had been wounded. Estimates of Iraqi deaths vary wildly — from 150,000 to more than 1 million — and many Iraqis ended up homeless. The dead, maimed and homeless on both sides were the losers; the winners were U.S. defense contractors, the oil and gas industries, along with their wealthy shareholders, executives, and board members, all of whom profited from the war.

 

As the Iraq war wound down, the U.S. shifted its focus to Afghanistan, where fighting already underway against the Taliban would grind on for another 10 years. The winners and losers were essentially the same as in Iraq: U.S. monied interests counted profits; U.S. soldiers counted body bags during a prolonged stalemate with the Taliban. The U.S. finally called it quits in 2021. Remember the U.S. military’s chaotic final exit from Kabul International Airport that August? The Afghans left behind had already endured the hell of living in a country riven by 20 years of war. Now they were under the suffocatingly strict rule of the Taliban.

 

No good at all came from these foreign misadventures.

 

I remember how angry I was in 2002 as we raced toward war in Iraq. I had plenty of company but we were a minority. Most of America — even institutions I respected like The New York Times — seemed sanguine about the lead-up to war. Later they excused themselves by saying that Bush II misled them. “We were deceived about the weapons of mass destruction,” they said. “Shame on those who tricked us.”

 

But not all of us were deceived! I, along with my wife, Lucy, and son, Hank, marched with many others in 2002 in Poughkeepsie, N.Y., protesting long before the U.S. launched its Iraq invasion. It was obvious that the real reason for going to war was to elevate Bush’s stature as a “wartime president.” Only six weeks into the war, Bush hopped out of the backseat of a Navy plane that landed on the deck of the USS Abraham Lincoln. Beneath banners proclaiming “Mission Accomplished,” he declared — quite prematurely it turned out — that “the United States and our allies have prevailed” against Iraq. His theatrics worked: We re-elected Bush in 2004, even though the mission was far from accomplished. Fighting in Iraq would continue for 7 more years. The war had been a colossal blunder. I grew angrier.

 

Now it’s 2025 and instead of being an angry middle-aged man, I’m an angry old man. I know it’s no way to live, but how do I — how do any of us — quell anger rekindled by a president who is manifestly dishonest, racist and malicious? When Donald Trump was elected the first time, I was confident that his deranged behavior would soon spur Americans to hit the streets, just as they had twice before in my life when the country was at moral crossroads  — the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s and the anti-war protests during the Vietnam War. 

 

But nothing happened this time. After outrage piled upon outrage, we simply watched as our two-party system failed, thanks to Republicans who sold out to a cult leader. Two impeachments weren’t enough to dislodge him. Morally bankrupt Republicans (is that redundant?) followed Trump wherever he went, like disciples of Jim Jones who sought nirvana in Jonestown.

 

Last November, despite Trump’s crimes, corruption, lies and general tawdriness, voters returned him to office. He won with a plurality of votes, but he claimed an overwhelming victory, a mandate to proceed with his bonkers agenda. Now he’s swinging a wrecking ball at American governance, cruelly, vengefully and recklessly. Surely he’d already have been impeached if we had an effective, functioning legislative branch. 

 

We have to acknowledge at this point that half of the country really does support Trump and all he represents. That half applauds his demonization and mistreatment of migrants. They think it’s OK to withdraw Temporary Protective Status for Haitians so that they can be deported to a country ruled by murderous gangs. They don’t mind that Trump sides with Putin openly and betrays Ukraine. They see nothing wrong with installing Cabinet members who lack experience, morality or mental equilibrium to do their jobs. They agree with his reversal of any policy aimed at fighting climate change and applaud his “Drill, baby, drill” mantra. They think his single-minded determination to cut taxes for the wealthiest will somehow trickle down to them despite 50 years of evidence to the contrary. They applaud his attack on transgender youth and his dismantling of programs aimed at increasing  diversity in government, business or the classroom. They don’t mind that he lies. They don’t mind that he has handed over the reins of government to the whacko genius Elon Musk, who last week celebrated his dismissal of thousands of government employees by waving a chainsaw around. They aren’t offended by Trump’s pomposity or his tacky golf club lifestyle.

 

Can I, or you, simply resign ourselves to citizenship in a country like the one ours has become? Can we relax and get on with life and make nice with those who approve of what is going on? If we could do that, our anger might subside.

 

After the election, Lucy and I, like many of you I suspect, turned off the news for a spell. Now I find it impossible to ignore the constant barrage of outrage loosed by Trump and Musk. I find it impossible to not know what’s going on. More frustrating still is knowing that I am surrounded by Americans who either applaud them or are ignorant of the damage they’re doing.

 

All this makes me want to wear a sign saying I am not a part of the plurality that put us in the mess we’re in. I want people I encounter to know that I hate what Trump is doing and what he stands for. And, shame on me, I want those who disagree with me to know that I am unable to respect their opinion or judgment. And I want people to know that I think they’re either stupid or beneath my contempt if they choose to embrace the MAGA movement and its leader.  I don’t want any of Trump’s stink getting on me.

(I realize that the emotions betrayed in the last paragraph are selfish, immature, and not productive. Sorry.)

So what kind of emotions might be unselfish, mature and productive? What can we do to slow the march to facism that our country supported at the ballot box? Can we do anything? Yes, I think we can. Some possibilities:

 

• Boycott: To my discredit, I have until now been a typical Amazon customer. It never occurred to me to expend the energy to find other places to buy things available from Amazon. But when Jeff Bezos spiked The Washington Post’s endorsement of Kamala Harris and subsequently transformed himself into a Trump sycophant, I weaned myself off of Amazon. First, I went to the local bookstore here in uptown New Orleans — Octavia Books. I bought all the books I gave for Christmas and haven’t bought a book from Amazon since. So one thing you can do to punish the capitalist billionaires who kow-tow to Trump is to boycott them. Amazon was low hanging fruit, but I’m sure others deserve punishment. More effective still is the national boycott of the economy taking place on Feb. 28th. If enough of us simply buy nothing that day, it might send shivers down the backs of Trump supporters who are banking on his policies to fatten their stock portfolios. If you do nothing else to resist Trump, join the boycott. Learn more by visiting the The People’s Union USA website:

https://thepeoplesunionusa.com

 

• March and protest: There have been opportunities to take to the streets and there will be more. As noted above, massive protests have been effective in the past when our country was at a turning point. Taking the trouble to get out and show your allegiance to democratic norms and common decency is crucial to breaking the stranglehold that Trump has on our country. A group called Indivisible was founded early during Trump I and is still active today. They can tell you where to go to be heard and seen making “good trouble.” Surely you want your children and grandchildren to know that you demonstrated against the rise of facism in this country. Here’s a link to Indivisible.

https://indivisible.org/

 

• Give strategically: My wife Lucy is checking out mid-term congressional races, trying to identify those that Democrats can win. Supporting Democratic candidates in 2026 — whether they’re running in your congressional district or elsewhere — can help the party regain majorities in Congress. You don’t have to give more than you can afford. But giving what you can afford and telling everyone you know that they should do the same is an admirable way to resist. The best way to contribute is through the DCCC (Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee). It will parcel out money from you and others to Democratic candidates who have the best chance of winning.  Here’s a link to the DCCC. 

           https://dccc.org/

Maybe if we actually do something — resist intentionally, I mean — we’ll get past the anger that threatens to paralyze us.

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