COLUMN: America Heading Toward a Democratic Abyss

An Obsession That Never Fades

Donald Trump continues to insist that the 2020 election was stolen from him, despite the complete lack of credible evidence and despite repeated denials from his own advisors, campaign officials, and even members of his administration. This pathological fixation goes beyond mere political denial: it falls under what some psychologists describe as a narcissistic personality disorder, fueled by a constant need for validation and attention. The former president’s media machine continues to hammer home these baseless accusations, creating an alternative reality for millions of Americans who refuse to accept the democratic results. This persistence in lying is not merely a communication problem: it erodes the foundations of institutional trust and sets the stage for future attacks on the U.S. electoral system. The Trump phenomenon is not disappearing with his electoral defeat: it is transforming and becoming more radical, threatening the very stability of the Republic.

It’s exhausting. Truly exhausting. Every day, every week, every month, it’s the same old story. “I won, they stole the election from me, it’s massive fraud.” And we have to listen to this again, analyze it again, debate it again as if there were the slightest shred of truth to it. I feel held hostage by this absurd narrative, forced to devote my time and intellectual energy to nonsense that should have been consigned to the dustbin of history years ago. It’s as if we were all stuck in a bad dream from which we cannot wake up.

A bipartisan outcry

The FBI raid in Fulton County sent shockwaves across the American political spectrum. Democratic elected officials, of course, but also some Republicans, have publicly denounced this action as an unacceptable violation of democratic norms. The NAACP Legal Defense Fund strongly condemned the raid, calling it a dangerous act intended solely to validate allegations of election fraud that have already been widely discredited. Election officials across the country have expressed deep concern, fearing that this event could set a precedent for further political interference in local electoral processes. Even traditionally conservative media outlets have acknowledged the unusual and potentially harmful nature of this operation. This bipartisan reaction suggests that, despite the extreme polarization of American politics, certain red lines still remain—though for how long, no one really knows.

There is something ironic—almost comical—about seeing the very same Republicans who have spent years denouncing the so-called Democratic “deep state” now applauding (or at least not opposing) this blatant manipulation of the FBI by the Trump administration. The hypocrisy makes me physically sick. These people have no principles, no convictions that cannot be sacrificed on the altar of partisanship. I wonder what it would take for them to truly react, to recognize that this is no longer politics—it’s a war against democracy itself.

The Budget as a Political Lever

Alongside this electoral crisis, Washington is facing another emergency: the prospect of a government shutdown that could begin as early as this weekend. Senate Democrats have announced that they will block all funding for ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) until their demands for reform are met. Their demands include greater transparency in the agency’s operations, safeguards against abuse of power, and restrictions on arrest and detention methods. This high-stakes strategy is reminiscent of the budget standoffs that have paralyzed the U.S. government on several occasions in the past, but with considerably higher stakes this time around. The consequences of a shutdown would be immediate and devastating: hundreds of thousands of federal employees would be furloughed, public services would be disrupted, and the U.S. economy would suffer a severe blow.

Again. Always again. I’ve lost count of how many times the United States has found itself on the brink of a budget cliff, threatening to plunge millions of families into precarious circumstances over an absurd political power struggle. It’s theater of the absurd. People who earn hundreds of thousands of dollars a year, with health insurance and generous pensions, are playing with the livelihoods of federal employees who live paycheck to paycheck. It revolts me to my very core. It’s immoral. It’s indecent. It’s inhumane.

An Agency Out of Control

Since returning to power in 2025, Donald Trump has drastically tightened U.S. immigration policy, transforming ICE into an unprecedented enforcement force. Under the leadership of Secretary of Homeland Security Kristi Noem, the agency has stepped up raids in immigrant communities, expanded the scope of potential targets, and adopted increasingly aggressive and controversial methods. Reports detail brutal family separations, arbitrary arrests, and inhumane detention conditions. Human rights organizations are documenting cases of systematic violations of fundamental rights, while overwhelmed courts struggle to cope with the influx of deportation proceedings. ICE has become the primary instrument of a xenophobic policy that exploits economic and cultural fears to consolidate Trump’s political power and his electoral base.

I close my eyes and imagine mothers separated from their children, fathers torn away from their jobs, lives shattered by the cold bureaucracy of a dehumanized administrative machine. It breaks my heart. It’s unbearable. How can anyone claim to defend American values while inflicting such suffering on human beings who are simply seeking a better life? I feel complicit through my inaction, through my geographical distance, through my inability to do anything to stop this machine that crushes lives. Shame gnaws at me.

The Conditions for Avoiding Chaos

Senate Democrats have laid out three specific demands they consider non-negotiable to prevent a government shutdown. First, they are demanding clear restrictions on ICE’s arrest powers, including a ban on targeting individuals with no criminal record or those who frequent sensitive locations such as schools and hospitals. Second, they are calling for increased oversight of the agency’s operations, including quarterly reports detailing arrests, detentions, and deportations, as well as accountability mechanisms for agents found guilty of abuse. Third, they insist on the creation of an independent appeals process for people whose rights have been violated. These demands, though reasonable on the surface, have been categorically rejected by the Trump administration, which dismisses them as an attempt to sabotage immigration control efforts.

I want to believe that the Democrats are truly fighting for immigrants’ rights—truly. But a little voice inside me wonders if this isn’t just political theater, a way to score points ahead of the midterm elections. Cynicism sometimes creeps in. When I see these cycles of confrontation and compromise that usually lead to insufficient half-measures, I wonder if there really is a significant difference between the two parties on fundamental issues. Hope battles with despair in my mind.

A Paralyzed and Vulnerable Country

Experts agree that a government shutdown would have disastrous consequences in both the short and long term. Immediately, approximately 800,000 federal employees would be affected, the majority of whom would be forced to work without pay or placed on furlough. Essential services would continue, but with significant delays in processing cases, passport applications, food inspections, and many other government functions. The U.S. economy, already weakened by political instability, would suffer a severe blow, with losses potentially exceeding $5 billion per week. Internationally, a shutdown would send an alarming signal about the United States’ ability to govern effectively, further undermining its credibility as a global leader. Financial markets would likely react with extreme volatility, adding to the economic uncertainty already present.

I remember previous government shutdowns, like the one in 2013 under Obama or those in 2018–2019 under Trump. Each time, I’d tell myself, “This is the last one—they can’t do this again.” And yet, every time, they do it all over again. It’s like an addiction—a collective inability to find lasting solutions. I’m tired. Tired of this never-ending political circus. Tired of seeing ordinary people pay the price for the incompetence of their elites. I want to look away, to stop paying attention, but I know that would mean giving up. And giving up would mean letting those who are destroying what we cherish win.

Two Symptoms of the Same Illness

Trump’s obsession with the election and the budget crisis surrounding ICE may seem like two separate crises, but they are in fact two sides of the same coin: the deterioration of the American democratic system. In both cases, we are witnessing the exploitation of fundamental institutions for purely political ends. In the first case, the FBI and the judicial system are being used to validate lies and undermine the integrity of the election. In the second, the budget process has become a weapon in an ideological conflict over immigration, jeopardizing the very functioning of the government. Both of these phenomena reveal a profound loss of trust in traditional democratic norms—a willingness to defeat political opponents at any cost, even if it means destroying the very institutions that make democracy possible. It’s a vicious cycle: the more political actors violate these norms, the more they come to rely on them for survival, and the faster the erosion accelerates.

It’s frightening to see the pieces of the puzzle falling into place before my eyes. It’s not just Trump, it’s not just the Republicans, it’s not just the Democrats. It’s the entire system rotting from within. The safeguards are crumbling one by one, and no one seems to really care as long as their side “wins.” But in the end, when democracy dies, it will drag everyone down with it into its grave. I’m afraid. Truly afraid of what lies ahead if we don’t act now.

The Collapse of American Leadership

The United States’ traditional allies are watching these developments with growing concern. Europe, Japan, Australia, and other Western democracies have relied for decades on American stability as a pillar of the international order. But that stability is now being undermined by internal political upheaval in the United States. International negotiations have become unpredictable, commitments are called into question from one administration to the next, and U.S. credibility on the world stage has been seriously eroded. Authoritarian regimes such as China and Russia do not hesitate to exploit these weaknesses, presenting themselves as more stable and predictable alternative models. American soft power, long its greatest asset, is evaporating as images of political chaos in Washington flood screens around the world. The United States’ cultural and moral influence is diminishing accordingly, leaving a vacuum that other powers are ready to fill.

I remember America as a beacon, a role model. The America of Martin Luther King, John Kennedy, the space race, and democratic idealism. That America seems increasingly distant, almost mythical. Today, when I look at the United States, I see a divided, angry, and declining country. It’s melancholy. It’s like losing a friend whom you admired but who has gone astray. I still hope, despite everything, that America can rise again, find itself, and once more become that beacon. But that hope is fading day by day.

A Future Hanging by a Thread

The United States stands at a historic crossroads. The decisions made in the coming weeks and months will determine whether the country can recover and return to a sustainable democratic path, or whether it will continue its descent into authoritarianism and institutional dysfunction. American institutions have demonstrated remarkable resilience in the past, surviving crises far more severe than those we face today. The Constitution, the system of separation of powers, freedom of the press, and a vibrant civil society are powerful assets that other countries lack. But resilience is not infinite. At some point, the pressures become too great, the rifts too deep, and the system collapses. Americans—and with them, the entire world—will soon have to decide which path they want to take. The time for half-measures and temporary compromises is over. This is a moment of existential choice.

I end these lines with a heaviness in my chest, a dull anxiety that won’t leave me. I’ve written hundreds of articles on American politics over the years, but this one is different. There’s a sense of urgency I’ve never felt before, a feeling that we’re on the edge of a precipice and that everything could come crashing down at any moment. I’m afraid for my children, for their future in a world where the leader of democracy has abdicated its responsibilities. I’m afraid for my American friends who are living through this turmoil every day. I’m afraid for all of us, because when the American giant stumbles, everyone falls with it. And yet, despite this fear, despite this discouragement, I continue to write, to analyze, to hope. Because giving in to despair would be the real defeat. And that, I will not allow.

Signed, Jacques Provost