How Must We Reorient Our Movements Under a Second Trump Administration?

What will it mean to resist fascism under a second Trump administration?

During Trump’s first term, we saw mass marches, blockade actions, and daily denunciations of Trump’s words and edicts. Some of these tactics were successful, at times. For example, ADAPT’s 2017 mass action at the Capitol may have played a major role in saving the Affordable Care Act. Mass marches promoted a new sense of political identity for many people who joined existing organizations, or who began their own projects. Some approaches were less effective, including the constant reiteration and denunciation of every Trumpian pronouncement — or what Daniel Hunter has dubbed “public angsting.” Our fixation with Trump’s every horrid public thought was understandable, but it was also dizzying and demoralizing, and reinforced the illusion that an endless slew of condemnations amounted to resistance.

There are lessons to be learned from this period. However, we must also recognize that our political situation in 2025 will be more dire than it was in 2017. The forces that have aligned to enable Trump’s second rise to power, including policy organizations like the Heritage Foundation, have had years to sharpen their strategy. Techno-fascists like Elon Musk have woven themselves into the fabric of the executive branch. Evangelicals are more determined than ever to remake the United States in their own image. And while these sometimes-competing but cooperative forces do not have a fully aligned vision for the future, all of their aspirations involve the erosion or elimination of democratic processes, and significant harm to marginalized people. We should expect these authoritarian power grabs to be supported by a Supreme Court that has been captured by right-wing idealogues. Trump’s first victory caught many Republicans off guard. This time, our right-wing enemies are poised to move more effectively, and their plans for contending with protesters, and for targeting undocumented people, unhoused people, and others living in the margins are as chilling as they are epic in scale. As someone who has devoted years of my life to the work of direct action–to planning, executing, and helping others prepare for various forms of protest — I would never suggest that we foreclose any avenue of resistance. We must be nimble in these times. However, it is crucial that we rethink our approach to direct action and protest in a potentially authoritarian, dictatorial context.

During the last Trump administration, every unjust policy or action Trump meted out was met with pronouncements that, “We should all be in the streets.” The resulting protests were often purely expressive in nature. Beautiful Trouble describes expressive direct actions as protests that “come from the heart and the gut — whether or not our heads calculate the specific outcome.” Expressive actions allow us to act out our feelings in public. Seizing a roadway with a large crowd of protesters, for example, can feel defiant, heartening or even exhilarating. But while such actions can help us feel powerful, they don’t always increase our numbers, advance our narrative, or put meaningful pressure on decision-makers. The instrumental value of an action, or the action’s power to shift or shape real-world outcomes, should be front and center in these times. In a country that often centers self-expression in politics, the tug-of-war between expressive and instrumental actions has long been a point of contention. The best actions are both expressive and instrumental, but it is more important than ever to approach direct action from an earnest, strategic perspective, with an eye toward what harms we can halt and what values we can materially enact.

Some tactics that have been mainstays of our movements in recent years should be used sparingly in these times. Mass marches are a prime example. While large marches can help engender a sense of relationship to a cause, or to a moment, and give protesters a sense that they are part of something larger than themselves, the repetition of this tactic has diminishing returns. I recently spoke with movement educator and strategist Daniel Hunter, who emphasized the need to adapt in our changing political climate. “Mass marches are helpful for us to be together, and to feel that we are not alone. They can be a psychological marker that we have each other and we’re with each other,” Hunter explained. However, Hunter argued that, as a repetitive strategy, mass marches can become counterproductive. “It’s not necessarily convincing new people, and doesn’t actually build our power,” he said.

When organizers rely too heavily on mass marches, without achieving any material or strategic gains, participation often dwindles over time. For protesters who continue to show up, the loss of fellowship and the strength in numbers they previously experienced can be demoralizing, and can lead to demobilization, or even despair. This doesn’t mean that mass marches will have no place in this era of protest, but it does mean that the tactic should be deployed sparingingly, and that people who are activated in such moments should be directed toward more sustainable, materially impactful efforts.

Hunter also cautioned against a rush toward civil acts of disobedience. “Our opposition does not care and our opposition is looking for excuses to beat up on us,” Hunter said. Civil disobedience creates a moral confrontation between oppressive forces and people demanding justice. Such actions are often symbolic in nature, and are meant to trouble the conscience and reputations of decision makers, while also shifting public opinion. Historically, these methods have sometimes played a key role in major victories, such as those achieved by the Civil Rights Movement. However, each moment of struggle has its own context. The strengths and weaknesses of our movements, and the opportunities and threats we are faced with must inform our strategies. The Trump administration will not be moved by any moral argument, and mass arrests are unlikely to impact the shape of public opinion–at least in our present context. If our violent arrests rally anyone, at this stage, it will likely be our opposition. Hunter emphasized that the Trump administration will be seeking opportunities to brutalize protesters. “Trump has been very effective at getting his base to believe that when he hurts us, that’s a moment of victory for them, and they should cheer it on.”

Hunter believes that a context could eventually emerge in which civil disobedience could be strategically meaningful, but argues that activists must “create a story for people to connect with” that would support such actions, rather than having their actions co-opted by the narrative Trump has “created so well” that will simply stigmatize and vilify protesters. We will not forge a new narrative or reshape the cultural and political landscape simply by enduring police brutality and carceral violence.

Proponents of direct action have long debated the value of symbolic actions, which level a moral challenge to authority, without directly intervening in the commission of unjust policies and conditions. I believe in the value of symbolic actions, as a means of storytelling, and as a means of establishing the character of our movements. However, I think the value of such an approach has been greatly diminished by Trump’s reascension. At this point, I would argue that the only public, arrestable actions worth undertaking are those that directly intervene to halt harms that are unfolding–such as the construction of detention areas or facilities, or the arrest and removal of targeted co-strugglers and community members–and actions that embody the defiant performance of our values. Directly halting harmful actions or enacting care and protection, in opposition to state violence, vigilante attacks, and organized abandonment are worthy pursuits, and should be pursued cautiously, with care, training, and preparation. This will often involve risk, including the risk of arrest. However, arrest should not be the objective. To act morally and defiantly and to escape the clutches of authorities is most ideal. This will not always be possible, of course, but we must rethink our approach to carceral risks, and soberly assess what is gained by any purely symbolic course of action, whether we are protesting federal, state or local policies. The consequences of a second Trump era will be felt everywhere. Our resources will be strained, the repression of dissidents will intensify, and the nonprofit infrastructure many people rely on may be gutted through regulatory attacks. We must reorient ourselves accordingly.

Hunter also emphasized the importance of noncooperation and disobedience in our everyday and professional lives. He pointed to the need for healthcare professionals, public officials, and others to refuse to participate in oppressive policies. “We need strategies of non-compliance when we’re asked to enact policies that are wrong, like transphobic policies around bathrooms,” Hunter said.

Defiance must be woven into the fabric of our daily lives, rather than simply proclaimed at marches or on social media. Some refusals will be visible, but many quiet acts of disobedience — like a healthcare worker’s refusal to aid in criminalizing a patient — have the potential to save lives and interrupt state violence.

It’s also important to consider the limitations of our resources in these times. Arrests are a finite resource, like any other. Protesters who are fighting legal battles to stay out of jail can rarely afford to get rearrested. Those who do face more complicated legal challenges and a greater chance of being incarcerated. Conserving potential arrests for moments when we can materially interrupt harms that are unfolding, such as the seizure or removal of targeted human beings, or moments when we feel moved to defiantly care for and protect people who have been abused, or even left for dead, may prove essential.

Conserving legal resources may also prove important. While our movements have long been buttressed by dedicated teams of movement lawyers, the resources and capacities of those attorneys and organizations are not unlimited. We must ask ourselves if we want those resources tangled up in endless cases stemming from symbolic actions, or if we want those resources to be available to assist people who are directly intervening in harm, undermining the ability of our oppressors to cause harm, or providing mutual aid and community defense outside the law.

There are many defiant actions that we can and should undertake that will create legal risks without necessarily resulting in arrest. Many people will undoubtedly help people seek medical care, including abortion care, that has been prohibited in their areas. Undocumented people and other targeted individuals will be lent shelter. Unhoused people and people being forced from their homes will need to be defended. Buildings may be reclaimed. Life-giving supplies may be liberated and redistributed. Community defense efforts will undoubtedly be grown and established. Solidarity networks and mutual aid projects will bring neighbors and communities together, as people navigate the violence of austerity and the chaos of Trumpism, and some of that work will happen outside the law. We all have parts to play, and whatever courage we can muster, or cultivate in collectivity, will be needed.

This is a good time to establish and fortify small, adaptable groups that can take action and reduce harm, while communicating securely and taking other precautions to avoid arrest or exposure. Organizer Scot Nakagawa has advocated for a focus on affinity group organizing. “In high-risk environments, small, tight-knit groups offer safety, adaptability, and accountability,” Nakagawa writes. Nakagawa, who is the co-founder and co-director of the 22nd Century Initiative (22CI), a national strategy and action center that aims to resist authoritarianism, also suggests focusing on community support and mutual aid. “Providing tangible support to vulnerable neighbors builds trust and solidarity, creating a foundation for resistance,” he writes.

Reflecting on communal strength, my friend Shane Burley, author of Fascism Today, Why We Fight, and co-author of Safety Through Solidarity, recently told me, “A strong community is what keeps people safe in times of crisis, and that can be as simple as a tight-knit, autonomous group of trusted friends who can be relied on as things get worse. This type of relationship is the centerpiece both of staying safe as state repression worsens, but also has the effect of creating a model for the types of relationships a new kind of society could be built on.”

As Vicky Osterweil reminds us, we shouldn’t be intimidated by this work: “Everyone who has a friend or two in their life has the resources and likely the skills to begin organizing toward communal safety and a better life.”

There are so many ways that we can support each other and gear up to assist and defend each other in the months and years ahead. Remember that well-organized people, with sound communications and security practices, can learn together and adapt quickly as conditions evolve. We must be thoughtful, caring, and strategic in our movements. As Nakagawa writes, “Resistance in these contexts isn’t about dramatic gestures—it’s about survival, resilience, persistence, and the joy of building with others and creating deep connections.”

As I have said before, today’s organizers are builders in an era of collapse. Against our wills, we have been locked into a course that will steer us into disaster upon disaster. Environmental chaos, state-sanctioned violence, deprivation, and repression will continue to batter our communities. Many of us are duly horrified and heartbroken. Processing those feelings will help us recognize the ways our situation has changed and what the moment demands of us. We cannot reenact the same tactics, which may or may not have served us in a time that no longer exists. We are entering a new era. We will not submit to the norms or edicts of the fascists who would rule us, but we must be thoughtful, strategic, and calculating in our actions — including bold actions. We will protest. We will create spaces where we can recommit to our values, to each other, and to the causes that unite us. We will fight for each other and for the future. We will do these things together in the hopes of saving lives, emptying cages, and transforming our world.

As our enemies seek to normalize our annihilation and disposal, we will refuse to abandon each other. The work before us is creative, tactical, and strategic, and we must rise to it thoughtfully, in collectivity.

Author’s Note: If you are contemplating your future as an activist or an organizer in these times, I compiled a list of books, articles, and resources you may want to check out here.