OPINION: When California Rises Up — Democrats Prepare Their Counteroffensive Against Trump

The Man Who Wants to Lead the Opposition

Gavin Newsom is everywhere. On television sets. In press conferences. At the convention in Sacramento. The governor of California has clearly decided that the time for discretion is over. His strategy is as clear as day: to position himself as the most visible, combative, and articulate face of the Democratic opposition to Trump, with an eye toward a presidential run in 2028. His speeches are carefully calibrated—progressive enough to galvanize the activist base, yet pragmatic enough not to scare off the moderate voters the Democratic Party needs to retake the White House.

In Sacramento, Newsom hammered home what he presents as the success of the California model: a dynamic economy, massive investments in renewable energy, expanded health coverage, and an ambitious education policy. The implicit message is this: look at what we’ve done here. This is what all of America could have. This is what Trump is robbing you of.” It works on paper. But Newsom knows better than anyone: California also has its own vulnerabilities—an explosive housing crisis, an alarming poverty rate, and the exodus of certain businesses and the middle class to other states. His Republican opponents will be sure to point this out.

Newsom is brilliant. He’s charismatic. He’s a good speaker. He knows exactly what he’s doing. But I hope that deep down, he also knows that speeches aren’t enough anymore. Americans don’t want a showman. They want someone who truly understands them. California, as admirable as it is, isn’t the America of Michigan or Pennsylvania.

The Problem Facing the Californian Messenger in the Face of the Heartland

The fundamental challenge facing California Democrats as they seek to win back the nation is this: they’re speaking from a bubble. California symbolizes everything that rural and suburban America perceives as distant, elitist, and out of touch. In the Republican imagination, San Francisco has become the ultimate foil—the city of hipsters, ideologues, and social permissiveness. Whether fair or not, this stigma clings to California Democrats. And Newsom, with his polished, casual Silicon Valley executive look, embodies precisely the profile that voters in the Midwestern swing states—Michigan, Wisconsin, Pennsylvania—massively rejected in 2024.

For the California strategy to work, bridges will need to be built to those parts of America. Concrete bridges, not slogans. Economic policies that speak to auto workers in Detroit just as much as to engineers in Mountain View. Rhetoric that acknowledges cultural concerns without validating them, that hears the anger without fueling it. It’s an extraordinarily difficult balancing act—and this is precisely where the Democratic Party has faltered time and again over the past decade.

Self-Criticism: Slow in Coming, but It’s Here

The Sacramento convention was also the scene of an unusual exercise for an opposition political party: self-criticism. Prominent voices—both progressive and moderate—publicly acknowledged that the 2024 defeats could not be explained solely by Trump, disinformation, the Russians, or the power of Republican money. There were also failures specific to the Democrats. A muddled message. An inability to discuss the economy with the same force as the Republicans. An electoral base fragmented into identity-based tribes that no longer spoke to one another. A party perceived as the party of urban college graduates, liberal professionals, and the coastal elite—not the party of ordinary people struggling to make ends meet.

This self-criticism is healthy. It is necessary. It is politically courageous, because it involves facing certain uncomfortable truths head-on. The election data is unforgiving: Trump made gains in 2024 among Latino voters, young men, and Americans without a college degree—groups that should have been the core of the Democratic vote. Something has broken down. And so far, too few Democratic leaders have had the courage to clearly identify what that something is.

I deeply respect this moment of self-criticism. In politics, admitting you were wrong comes at a cost. It costs you ego, it costs you credibility in the short term, and it leaves you open to attacks from opponents. But it is absolutely necessary. A party that cannot look at itself honestly in the mirror is doomed to repeat its mistakes.

The Debate Between Progressives and Moderates: Still There, Never Resolved

The fundamental tension that has run through the Democratic Party for years has not disappeared in Sacramento. It has simply been put on the back burner by the urgency of the confrontation with Trump. On one side is the progressive wing—embodied by figures like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez—which advocates for a radical economic agenda, an accelerated energy transition, ambitious social policies on housing, health care, and education, and a refusal to compromise on issues of social justice. On the other hand, the moderate wing—governors, senators from swing states, and electoral strategists—advocates for a pragmatic shift toward the center, a less divisive economic discourse, and a less ideological approach to cultural issues.

These two visions are not necessarily incompatible in terms of concrete policies. But they are often incompatible in tone, rhetoric, and the way issues are presented. And it is on this front—the front of communication and perception—that the political battle is fought. California has managed to hold these two wings together within its borders. Can it export this alchemy to the national stage? The answer to this question will largely determine the party’s future.

Legal and Institutional Battles

While speeches soar from the convention podium, another form of resistance is taking shape in the courts and institutions. California has filed numerous legal challenges against the Trump administration’s federal policies since the start of its second term. State Attorney General Rob Bonta has filed lawsuits in areas as diverse as immigration policy, cuts to federal funding for education and healthcare, rolled-back environmental regulations, and civil rights. This legal guerrilla warfare has yielded some significant victories: federal courts have suspended certain administration measures, offering temporary relief to the communities most affected.

But this legal strategy has its limits. Federal courts have been profoundly reshaped by Republican appointments in recent years. The Supreme Court, with its solid conservative majority of six justices to three, stands as a fortress that Democrats cannot hope to breach in the vast majority of cases. Legal resistance can buy time and preserve certain gains on the margins, but it cannot single-handedly reverse the country’s political course. It must be accompanied by an effective electoral strategy—and that is where everything is at stake.

Every legal victory against a Trump policy is a breath of fresh air. But you don’t win a political war in the courts. You win it at the ballot box. And for that, Democrats are going to have to work much harder than simply filing lawsuits.

Mayors and Governors: The Front Lines of Daily Life

Beyond the major national figures, it is at the local level that Democratic resistance takes its most concrete form. The mayors of major cities—Los Angeles, Chicago, New York, Seattle—have declared their jurisdictions “sanctuary cities,” refusing to cooperate with federal deportation operations. Democratic governors have sought to offset certain federal cuts to health and social assistance programs through state budgets. This isn’t enough—state resources are no match for those of the federal government—but it sends a strong political signal and provides real protection for vulnerable communities.

These local and state elected officials play a role that goes beyond mere administration. They embody a visible, tangible, everyday alternative to Trump’s brand of governance. When a Chicago mayor decides to maintain a food assistance program that Washington has eliminated, he is engaging in politics in the most fundamental way possible: he is addressing a real need, protecting real people, and demonstrating that governing can be done differently. These concrete actions build the credibility Democrats will need to regain national power.

DOGE as a Symbol of What California Democrats Are Fighting Against

While Donald Trump is the figurehead of what California Democrats are rebelling against, Elon Musk and his Department of Government Efficiency—the DOGE—may have become its most striking symbol. The founder of Tesla and SpaceX, the world’s richest man, has gained unprecedented influence over the workings of the U.S. federal government. His access to federal agencies’ computer systems, his ability to force mass layoffs, and his role in setting budget priorities—all of this represents a form of power that bypasses democratic channels and is accountable to no voters.

For Democrats, Musk embodies several grievances at once: the stranglehold of billionaires on politics, the dismantling of public services in the name of a technocratic ideology of efficiency, and the lack of transparency and democratic accountability in decisions that affect millions of lives. His political evolution—from a liberal entrepreneur tolerated by the left to a figurehead of the American radical right—is seen as both a betrayal and a warning. He has used his fortune to buy massive political influence. And Democrats have not yet figured out how to effectively respond to this new form of power.

What’s happening with Musk is frankly troubling for anyone who believes in democracy—not because he’s rich, not because he thinks differently, but because he wields state power without ever having been elected by anyone. That is an issue that should concern everyone, regardless of their political affiliation.

The Issue of Political Financing and Economic Countervailing Power

The Sacramento convention also addressed, at times directly, the issue of political financing and the fight against the dominance of Republican money. Since the Supreme Court’s 2010 Citizens United decision, which lifted most limits on political spending by corporations and wealthy individuals, the Republican Party and its allies have enjoyed a considerable financial advantage. In 2024, Musk personally contributed hundreds of millions of dollars to pro-Trump political efforts. Democrats need to build a financial counterweight—and to do so, they need their own major donors, but also, and above all, a base of engaged small-dollar donors, like the one Barack Obama built.

Between Anger and Aspiration: The Dual Emotional Register

The delegates gathered in Sacramento were not a homogeneous group. They came from Los Angeles and Fresno, Berkeley and San Diego, from affluent communities and working-class neighborhoods, from labor unions and environmental groups, from civil rights organizations and women’s groups. What they had in common was a dual emotion: deep anger at what Trump is doing, and an equally deep aspiration for a narrative of hope that tells them something better is possible. These two emotions are not contradictory—they feed off each other. But they require a delicate balance in political communication.

Too much anger without a vision, and the party appears merely reactive, defined by its opponent, without a plan of its own. Too much vision without grounding in the anger of the moment, and the message seems disconnected from the urgency people are experiencing. The best speeches heard in Sacramento managed to strike a balance between both: here’s what’s unacceptable, here’s why we’re fighting, and here’s the world we want to build together. It’s easier said than done. But in the moments when it works—when a speaker finds that rhythm—the room rises to its feet.

Anger without hope is exhausting. Hope without a grounding in reality rings false. The Democratic Party’s greatest challenge right now isn’t programmatic—it’s narrative. It must find the story that conveys both the truth of the pain and the possibility of change.

Young Democrats: A Generation That Wants Something Different

One of the most visible tensions at the Sacramento convention is the generational divide. Young Democratic activists—those under thirty-five—view their party with impatience and, at times, barely concealed exasperation. They have grown up amid the crises of climate change, soaring economic inequality, police violence, and the COVID-19 pandemic. They voted overwhelmingly for Democratic candidates and saw their expectations dashed, their priorities put on the back burner, and their sense of urgency dismissed as youthful idealism. Some have become disengaged. Others have chosen to enter politics. And those in Sacramento are often the most combative, the most demanding, and the least tolerant of institutional outdatedness.

This generational divide is both a challenge and an opportunity. A challenge because a party divided between its old guard and its new forces wastes energy on internal conflicts. An opportunity because the energy, creativity, and digital connectivity that these young activists bring are exactly what the Democratic Party needs to win back voters who have turned away. The question is whether existing party structures are capable of making enough room for these new voices without becoming destabilized.

Winning Back Swing States: A Long-Term Endeavor

As impressive as the mobilization in California may be, the reality of the U.S. electoral landscape is harsh: California already votes Democratic, and its electoral votes won’t change the outcome of a presidential election. What matters are the swing states—Michigan, Pennsylvania, Wisconsin, Arizona, Georgia, and Nevada. These states swung toward Trump in 2024, and winning them back will require much more than an enthusiastic convention in Sacramento. It will require years of grassroots work, listening to constituents, recruiting candidates who reflect these communities, and an economic agenda that addresses the real anxieties of people who fear for the future.

Democratic strategists know this. The Sacramento convention isn’t designed as a tool to win back swing states—it’s designed as a show of internal strength, a moment to mobilize the base, a symbolic launch of a momentum that will need to translate into concrete work in the states that matter. The real work begins after the speeches. It begins in local campaign offices, at community meetings, and in difficult conversations with voters who chose Trump and who have their reasons—reasons that must be heard, even when we disagree.

I’ve covered many political conventions over the years. The speeches are always good. The atmosphere is always electric. And then the delegates go home, and the real question arises: Will the energy in this hall translate into day-to-day work, or will it evaporate like smoke from a flash in the pan? That’s where everything is truly decided.

The 2026 Midterm Elections: The First Crucial Test

Before even thinking about the 2028 presidential election, the Democrats have the 2026 midterm elections to contend with. These elections, which will renew the entire House of Representatives and one-third of the Senate, represent the first concrete test of the anti-Trump resistance movement. Historically, the party in power loses seats in midterm elections—a trend that has held steady for decades. If this trend holds in 2026, the Democrats could retake the House, which would give them significant leverage to curb Trump’s legislative agenda.

But nothing is a foregone conclusion. The Republicans have shown that they know how to mobilize and that they have mastered the new dynamics of political communication better than their opponents. And the enthusiasm of a party convention does not always translate into votes in the communities that pollsters euphemistically refer to as “moderate voters.” The challenge is all the greater given that redistricting—or “gerrymandering”—has been skillfully used in many states to shield Republican incumbents from unfavorable electoral waves.

What the American Democratic Resistance Means for the World Order

The Sacramento convention and the resistance movement it symbolizes have implications that extend far beyond U.S. borders. In a world where liberal democracy has been under pressure for a decade, and where authoritarian and nationalist movements have gained ground in Europe, Latin America, and elsewhere, American democratic resistance is being watched with intense interest. The United States remains, despite everything, the most powerful symbol of liberal democracy in the global political imagination. What happens there has far-reaching effects.

The United States’ traditional allies—Europe, Canada, Japan, and Australia—have been deeply shaken by Trump’s second term. The questioning of NATO, trade tensions, and the U.S. withdrawal from certain multilateral commitments—all of this has created deep anxiety among allied democracies. These countries need to know that the United States has not permanently shifted toward isolationism and unilateralism. The American Democratic resistance is a sign of hope for them—proof that something is holding firm, that the country is not monolithic in its support for Trump’s vision of the world.

I often think about what our allies are going through right now. Imagine being a European leader, having relied on the United States for decades, and suddenly finding yourself having to rebuild your security, your economy, and your diplomatic strategy from the ground up because a single man has decided to change the rules. The resistance in California is also a message to the world: we’re still here.

The Progressive Model in the Age of Global Backlash

The rise of nationalist and conservative movements around the world is not an American anomaly. It is a global phenomenon affecting Europe from Italy to Hungary, from France to the Netherlands. These movements share common characteristics: rejection of the traditional political elite, hostility toward immigration, distrust of supranational institutions, and nostalgia for an era perceived as simpler and more homogeneous. Faced with this, progressive and center-left parties around the world are searching for a response—and the results are mixed.

Democratic California claims to have part of the answer. Its model—economic growth and social justice, energy transition and competitiveness, cultural diversity and civic cohesion—is presented as proof that a coherent and governable alternative is possible. But transposing this model, born in a very specific Californian context, to the American Midwest or to deindustrialized regions of Europe is an infinitely more complex undertaking. Solutions do not transfer automatically. Contexts matter. Local histories matter.

Politics as a Matter of Daily Survival

Amid all this geopolitical and strategic analysis, it’s easy to forget what all of this actually means for ordinary people. Not the activists in Sacramento. Not the governors and attorneys general. Ordinary people—the family in Phoenix who were waiting for their health insurance to be renewed and instead received a denial letter. The teacher in Cleveland whose school lost federal funding for programs to help struggling students. The researcher in Boston whose lab had its grants cut overnight. The farmworker in Salinas who lives every morning in fear of a raid.

For these people, politics isn’t a power game among high-profile national figures. It’s a matter of daily life, safety, and dignity. And that is precisely why what is happening in Sacramento matters far beyond activist circles. If Democrats can reconnect their political discourse to these lived realities—and not just mention them in speeches, but build policies that truly address them—they will have a real chance. If they remain stuck in the heights of grand national rhetoric, they will lose again.

The politics that make a difference aren’t the ones that make for the best magazine covers. They’re the ones that ensure a mother can take her child to the doctor without worrying about how she’ll pay. They’re the ones that ensure a worker can wake up in the morning without fear of losing their job or their freedom. It’s as simple and as fundamental as that.

Civic Engagement as a Collective Response

In the face of the Trump wave, something unexpected has happened in many American communities: a civic awakening. People who had never taken an interest in local politics are now attending town hall meetings. Professionals who had always kept their political opinions to themselves are getting involved in organizations, campaigns, and movements. Entire neighborhoods that seemed politically dormant are waking up with a palpable sense of urgency. This phenomenon is not uniform—it is more visible in urban areas and in educated suburban areas than in rural areas. But it is real.

American political history offers instructive precedents. The Republican Tea Party, born in reaction to Obama’s election, took the Democrats by surprise and transformed the country’s political landscape within a few election cycles. The Indivisible movement, which emerged in response to Trump’s first term, helped fuel the Democratic wave of 2018. These examples show that civic mobilization can have tangible electoral effects—but only if it is channeled, organized, and linked to a coherent strategy.

Sacramento as a Sign, Not a Victory

The Sacramento convention is not a victory. It would be a catastrophic mistake to treat it as such. It is a signal—a strong, genuine, necessary signal—that something is stirring within the U.S. Democratic Party. That the anger, which had been paralyzing after the 2024 defeat, is slowly, painfully transforming into something more constructive. That talented politicians—both men and women—are choosing to fight rather than wallow in self-pity. That millions of Americans who identify with Democratic values—justice, equal opportunity, solidarity, respect for institutions—are deciding not to cede the field to their opponents.

But the road ahead is long. Trump will remain in power until at least January 2029. The institutional damage caused by his administration’s two terms will be profound and lasting. The Supreme Court will remain dominated by a conservative majority for decades. The rules of the electoral game—campaign finance, redistricting, voter suppression in certain states—structurally favor the Republican Party in many districts. None of this will change in a single election cycle. A Democratic comeback, if it happens, will be the result of a long-term, patient, and disciplined effort—the very opposite of what political conventions naturally tend to do.

What History Will Remember

Twenty years from now, when historians analyze this period, they will wonder whether 2026 was the year the Democrats truly understood what was at stake. Not just an election. Not just political power. But the very nature of American democracy—its soul, its founding values, its promise that institutions protect people from the abuses of power rather than exposing them to it. The Sacramento convention may leave its mark on this story. Not because the speeches were eloquent. Not because the activists were enthusiastic. But because that may have been the moment when something shifted—when resignation gave way to determination.

Or perhaps not. Perhaps in a year, or two, the same divisions, the same internal squabbles, and the same inability to connect with disaffected voters will have resurfaced. History doesn’t always follow the narrative arcs we map out for it. But if California Democrats manage to channel the energy from Sacramento into a real strategy, credible candidates, a compelling platform, and a winning electoral coalition—then this convention will have been worth remembering. Not as a victory. As a beginning.

I’ll conclude with this. Throughout the history of democracies, the darkest moments have often preceded the most powerful resurgences. It’s not a law of physics. It’s not guaranteed. But it’s possible. And possibility, in politics as in life, is already something immense.

What You Can Do Now

I’m not asking you to be a Democrat. I’m not asking you to support Gavin Newsom or anyone else. I’m only asking you to stay alert. To follow what’s happening. To stay informed. To exercise your critical judgment toward everyone—toward Trump, toward Republicans, and toward Democrats as well. Democracy needs active, discerning citizens, not just partisans who cheer for their team and boo the opposing team. What’s at stake in the United States right now concerns us all—because what happens there always ends up having an impact here, one way or another.

And if tomorrow the tide turns, if the Democrats find their voice and their path, I promise to say so just as clearly as I speak out against what shocks me today. I’m not here to take sides. I’m here to look honestly at what’s happening and tell you what I see.

The facts have the final say

“The reign of terror must end,” say the delegates from Sacramento. Perhaps. Probably. But it will end when citizens—not just activists, not just politicians—collectively decide they want something different. Democracy isn’t a spectacle. It’s a daily practice. And that practice begins with something as simple—and as revolutionary—as deciding to inform yourself, to reflect, and to act accordingly. What you’re doing right now—reading, questioning, seeking to understand—is already a political act. Never forget that.

I didn’t write this to convince you. I wrote it so that you can see what I see, feel what I feel, and decide for yourselves what you think of it. That’s all I can do. And that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.

Signed, Jacques Pj Provost