A view from the heart of Trump country on a divided America

This week, Donald J. Trump will be inaugurated as president of the United States.

My hometown is in the heart of Trump country — Hurley, Buchanan County, Virginia. Buchanan County was once flourishing. The backs of doubled-over coal miners were the foundation on which its economy was erected. Increased regulation and, perhaps more importantly, lower demand due to cheap natural gas and shale oil brought layoffs and economic hardship for those employed by the coal industry. Those who remained in Buchanan County grew disillusioned with Washington and became disenchanted with their out-of-work way of life. Donald Trump promised change, big league.

I’ve recently returned to Hurley for the holidays. Since my last stay at home, my life has been punctuated by a Financial Times cover story on my opposition to Trump, two sojourns to China and the presidential election. In the aftermath of the election, I have found myself trying to make sense of what has taken place. I reflect on my studies at the University of Virginia, as well as on the many articles I’ve read on the rise of Trump, and each time I am reminded of Mao Tse-tung’s populism. The similarities between Trump and Mao’s versions of populism have been noted at some length, but I’m not sure that the extent to which they resemble one another has been fully acknowledged.

When I’m home, I still see Trump’s campaign signs in my neighbours’ front yards; I still hear people joyfully discussing Trump’s victory in the local stores, praising the man they view as the future redeemer of the blue-collar worker. I cannot help but be reminded of Mao’s policy to “besiege the city from the countryside.”

Mao’s policy led to a surge in the adoption and support of a nationalistic ideology. This policy presumably had at least two principal goals: to establish a strong us-vs-them mentality; and to set China in opposition to the destructive, capitalist-bourgeoisie ideology of the perceived outsiders. The result, of course, was a cult of personality surrounding Mao that persists in rural China to this day. At least in my hometown, it seems that Trump’s rhetoric has both successfully created an us-vs-them narrative and has successfully led the inhabitants of this tiny slice of coal country to oppose the outsiders in Washington. He has done so by effectively establishing a cult of personality in the valleys of Appalachia.

As yet, there are no busts of Trump or portraits of him hanging in the houses of his Appalachian supporters. Indeed, there probably won’t be any time soon. Instead, Trump’s altar is the regular person’s social media feed. No one with an internet connection needs to wait for news briefs or press releases in order to know Trump’s stance on issues; instead, the man himself pipes his thoughts and decrees directly to his altar. Praise now comes not in the form of a loyalty dance, but in the form of a share on social media. A click or a swipe is a public display of approval and subsequently reinforces one’s identity as an insider, while any less-than-laudatory comment or reaction is enough to cement one’s status as a member of the out group.

One effect of this division is that we are now required to defend our ideals in ways we have not had to defend them before. Victories in the arenas of LGBTQ+ equality, racial equality, freedom of expression and the press, climate change, as well as the separation of church and state and elsewhere, can no longer be taken for granted as an indication of “progress.”

I note a personal example that I take to be largely indicative of the state of affairs elsewhere in the United States: recently, Buchanan County Public Schools adopted a religious studies curriculum which was called, The Bible in History and Literature. The curriculum was praised by both county officials and community members as a step in the right direction and as a pivotal moment in the fight to “put God back in schools.” The curriculum is endorsed by many partisan actors who clearly have a religious agenda, so I wrote an editorial for a local newspaper opposing its adoption. My question was simple: how, when the county’s school system lacked resources to provide an adequate core curriculum, including access to in-house foreign language teachers, could resources justifiably be allocated to the teaching of a Bible studies class? In what way would this class prepare students to be global citizens and to graduate having studied a curriculum sufficiently rigorous to allow them to succeed either at a vocation or in post-secondary education?

In short, I do not think it was justifiable to let the core curriculum continue to wither while implementing a Bible Studies class. This type of class, at least in an underfunded public school, would do little to prepare students to become adults with critical thinking skills. Although I mostly avoided sensitive issues of politics in my editorial, it was still met with scorn. I was quickly labeled an atheist and told that I had forgotten my heritage. Conversations I have with others in line at the grocery or elsewhere tend to gravitate toward what I have to say about Trump or some other sensitive issue of policy. The reaction I am met with never differs much. Unfailingly, I’m told that I don’t really believe those things I said. After all, what would my parents or grandpa think if they heard me talk like that? “He sure has changed since he went off to college, hasn’t he?”

I have changed. I’ve become more committed to fighting for equality, standing up for what is right and vocally opposing intentionally divisive rhetoric. So, why do we find ourselves having to defend these sorts of ideals even more in the age of Trump? First, I think we should consider the implications behind “besiege the city from the countryside.” As it stands now, this strategy is more than a political power play; it is also a play on the education divide. It could be fittingly rephrased as follows: “Besiege the generally more liberal and better-educated who reside in urban centres by rallying the disenfranchised, generally conservative, in rural areas together with the promise of a better future.” As long as there is a charismatic personality at the helm who sees the potential for personal gain in those tired, those poor, those huddled masses, we will have to defend our ideals. That is, unless we realize that division is not the answer.

For now, then, I’ll continue to do the only thing I can do. I’ll set up my own altar in the midst of those dedicated to Trump and I’ll keep attempting to infiltrate their echo chamber. I’ll keep living out my ideals and encouraging others to do the same.