So, here we are again. The first Tuesday in November and the last day of yet another years-long American election campaign dominated by the spectre of one Donald J Trump.
What a strange old time the last year has been. There have been two assassination attempts, one last-minute drop-out and far, far, too many appearances from Elon Musk. We laughed, we cried, we fell out of coconut trees, we existed in the context, and they were eating the cats and dogs. The times were bad, but the jokes were good.
Alongside the delirium, though, there has also been a growing, but familiar, anxiety. It is perhaps best described as a recurring trauma, one which lodged itself in the bodies of all vaguely left-leaning people on the morning of November 9 2016 — and has never quite left. Waking up on that morning, to the news that Hillary Clinton had against all odds, conceded to Donald Trump, and having the scales fall abruptly from our eyes — it is a PTSD that has become something of a tentative joke in Democrat campaigning circles now. The naive hubris of the night before, versus the abject horror of the morning after. And as with all trauma, the body remembers — and it is prepping us now — for the very distinct possibility of a horrible deja vu.
For a while there, though, it felt like the Trump story was finally over. When he first announced that he would be standing for re-election in November 2022, he was at the base of a mountain that seemed impossible to scale. Banned from X/Twitter, Facebook and Instagram, he was forced, rather pathetically, to campaign exclusively via Truth Social, the social media website he owns a majority share of. There was the question of whether, after being defeated in the previous election and inciting a violent insurrection, the Republican Party could back him again. Surely not, we told ourselves. There were all the court cases, the mugshot, the felony conviction, the big lie, being found liable for sexual assault.
The reality is that when the US sneezes, the world catches a cold, which is why the exhaustion feels cross-continental
But one by one, the obstacles fell away. The GOP galvanised, the court cases were postponed, and the social media bans were lifted. And, buoyed by a deteriorating Joe Biden, before we knew it we were right back on course for Trump to potentially achieve the impossible once again.
And here we are, at the very same precipice, forced once again to confront the unthinkable, this ever-present, recurring nightmare. However, the difference between now and even just four years ago is that Trump could be the final straw in a laundry list of disasters that sends us all into a collective meltdown.
In the years since Trump rode down that golden escalator in 2015 to announce his first campaign, it has felt as though global politics has been a non-stop conveyor belt of terror. There has been a deadly pandemic; Russia’s illegal invasion of Ukraine; Israel’s horrifying bombardment of Gaza; the resurgence of right-wing, anti-immigrant populism; the climate being decimated; and a devastating assault on women’s rights in the US and beyond. It can be hard enough to know where to direct our anger and frustration already. Of course, these issues are not unrelated to the man himself — crucially he has exacerbated all of them — and has pledged plainly to do so again.
There is a temptation on this side of the Atlantic, to feel as though we are over-invested in the fate of the American ballot box. But of course, the reality is that when the US sneezes, the world catches a cold, which is why the exhaustion feels cross-continental. The military muscle, financial might, and, frankly, sheer cultural dominance of America make it a country impossible to ignore, as much as you might like to try to over the next few days. So, strap in, switch on CNN and stock up the drinks cabinet — we’re in for a nail-biter.
Emma Loffhagen is a London Standard writer
