In the wake of a crippling economic crisis, a populist figure rose to prominence in a major industrialised country. Known for his bombastic style, unconventional rhetoric, and promises to restore national pride, this leader seized upon a deep public resentment towards globalisation, immigration, and foreign competition.
He ran a campaign fuelled by slogans and spectacle, speaking directly to the “forgotten” citizen. His message was simple: the establishment had failed, international agreements were rigged, and only a bold new approach could bring back jobs and dignity. Central to his vision was the idea of putting the nation first, especially when it came to trade.
He spoke in stadiums and factory towns, railing against foreign imports and praising homegrown industry. Trade deals, he claimed, had hollowed out the manufacturing base. The solution? Tariffs. Big ones. On steel, on agriculture, on anything that undercut domestic producers. “We’re getting ripped off,” he said, over and over again.
The strategy worked. Industries that had been in decline suddenly had hope. National production ticked upward. Flag-waving patriotism returned to the airwaves. Critics warned of the costs, rising prices and global retaliation, but the movement only grew stronger. To many, it felt like the country was finally standing up for itself again.
What’s more, the economic message was just the beginning. The leader began to centralise authority, sidelining traditional checks and balances, attacking the media, and branding opponents as enemies of the people. The line between nationalism and nativism began to blur. Dissent, once seen as democratic, was reframed as disloyalty.
Throughout, his supporters remained fiercely loyal, crediting him with the country’s ‘turnaround’. The mix of economic populism and cultural grievance proved a potent force. It wasn’t just a political campaign; it became a movement, one built on the promise of making the nation great again.
By now, you may think you know who this story is about.
But it isn’t who you think.
This is not a tale of contemporary America. It is the story of Germany in the 1930s. And the man described is not Donald Trump, but Adolf Hitler.
History does not repeat itself exactly, but it often rhymes. And it reminds us that the tools of democracy can be used to dismantle it, especially when wielded by those who cloak power in the language of protection and pride.
Many will not be fooled again. But many will.
Here are ten practical actions we can all take right now to help stop the spread of fascism:
- Educate yourself and others – Learn the history and tactics of fascist movements. Understanding how they gain traction helps in identifying and resisting them.
- Challenge hate speech – Speak up against racism, xenophobia, homophobia, and other forms of bigotry wherever you encounter them, both online and offline.
- Support independent journalism – Back trustworthy media outlets that hold power to account and expose authoritarian agendas.
- Get involved in your community – Build solidarity through local organising, mutual aid, and volunteering. Strong communities are less susceptible to fascist influence.
- Vote – and encourage others to do the same – Use your voice in local and national elections to oppose parties and candidates with authoritarian or far-right leanings.
- Resist misinformation – Fact-check before sharing content. Call out propaganda, conspiracy theories, and fake news that feed fascist narratives.
- Protect marginalised groups – Stand in solidarity with those most at risk from fascist policies – including migrants, minorities, and LGBTQ+ people.
- Support anti-fascist organisations – Donate to or volunteer with groups actively working to monitor and resist fascist organising.
- Watch your language – Avoid using dehumanising or divisive rhetoric, and challenge it when others do. Language shapes public opinion.
- Stay politically engaged – Don’t tune out when things get hard. Attend protests, write to MPs, join unions, and hold leaders accountable.
Over to us!
