A few months ago, I had a conversation with someone from the right-wing media world who insisted that crime was “surging.” It fit into the Trump narrative that under President Biden, America had become a dystopian nightmare. But I pointed out that recent data showed a significant drop in violent crime, a trend that had started to improve under Biden after a spike during Trump’s last year due to the pandemic.
This person at first refused to accept the data. He pointed to increasing crime rates in certain cities like Washington, D.C., as if those could disprove national trends. He dismissed the figures I cited as biased and part of a liberal conspiracy. “Perception is reality,” he said. “Nobody believes crime is going down.” Eventually, he grudgingly admitted that crime was decreasing but argued it was because of policies in Republican states. I showed him that crime was dropping in both red and blue states. He then shifted his stance, saying the drop was just because the pandemic was ending, refusing to credit Biden for the decline. It was a partial victory, but his fundamental belief in a narrative of doom and gloom under Biden remained intact.
This incident exemplifies something deeper about the MAGA mindset. Trump and his supporters are heavily invested in fear. At nearly every Trump rally, he works to instill fear in his base. It’s a consistent theme from his campaigns in 2016 and 2020, and it’s back in full force this year. At a rally in Pennsylvania, he said that if Biden won, it would mean the end of the country. He called Biden a “demented tyrant” and claimed that “our cities are choking to death.” Trump has mastered the art of fearmongering like no other politician. He uses it to rally his supporters and convert fear into votes.
Yet, the reality is that Biden has been president for over three years, and America is not spiraling into chaos. In fact, some measures suggest things are better than during Trump’s presidency. For instance, crime rates have been falling, and even issues like religious freedom and abortion, concerns for Trump’s evangelical base, have seen positive trends. Despite this, Trump supporters cling to a narrative of fear and catastrophism, even when it contradicts evidence and relies on conspiracy theories.
Why do they hold onto fear so tightly? Part of it is political loyalty, but it’s more than that. Historically, when a president loses, especially by a wide margin like Trump did in 2020, their party usually moves on. But Trump has a unique grip on his supporters. Human nature leads us to form tribes, and Trump’s skill in inciting anger and fostering a sense of chaos resonates with his base. This is the “need for chaos” that some political scientists talk about, where disruption and anger become tools for gaining attention and power.
Trump’s rhetoric has a tribal, us-vs.-them quality, and he often positions himself as a savior and a symbol of resistance. He portrays his enemies as not just political opponents but as existential threats. It’s powerful messaging, especially when combined with the emotional satisfaction of shared outrage. Trump tapped into this anger and validated it, turning it into a rallying cry. For his supporters, the sense of fighting for a cause, of being part of a movement, is compelling.
Trump has become more than a political figure; he has taken on almost religious symbolism for his supporters, portraying himself as both a martyr and a warrior seeking retribution. At the Conservative Political Action Conference, he declared, “I am your voice… I am your warrior… I am your retribution.” This kind of language cements the emotional connection between Trump and his followers, reinforcing their sense of being on a heroic quest against perceived enemies.
In the end, Trump’s message isn’t about hope or unity; it’s about fear and retribution. This is a powerful force, but it’s also divisive and destructive, with consequences that extend far beyond politics. The challenge is to find ways to counter this narrative without feeding into the very fear and outrage that fuels it.
