I I am American I decided to leave the Netherlands for the United States to complete my graduate studies in 1984, where I met the love of my life and became an American citizen. America has been good to me. I have served as an advisor to presidential candidates, served on the National Security Council under Bill Clinton, and been the U.S. Ambassador to NATO under Barack Obama.
But I didn't choose to become an American just because of the opportunities it offered me. It was a personal reason.
My parents grew up during World War II. My mother survived the Holocaust in 1942 after a grueling six-month journey from the Netherlands, through Belgium and France, to neutral Switzerland. Many in her family were not so lucky. My father, who lived in the occupied north of the Netherlands, suffered through the hunger winter of 1944-45, during which more Dutch civilians died of starvation than Dutch soldiers died in the entire war.
The war was a central part of their lives, the backdrop to my upbringing. It was a recurring theme at the dinner table. My father became an academic and devoted much of his career to studying how democracies could be built to resist the anti-democratic movements that took hold in Italy in 1922 and in Germany a decade later. My father never had a satisfactory answer to this question. He was always concerned about the vulnerability of democracies because they were based on consensus and norms that could be violated with impunity.
My parents instilled in me the sense that the world is full of bad guys—but also good guys. Evil is inherent in the human condition—the kind that can turn neighbors into traitors and collaborators and sow hatred so strong that it can lead to the annihilation of an entire people. But Americans, who liberated a continent that had suffered two civil wars, supported massive economic reconstruction efforts through the Marshall Plan, and offered security through a strong alliance, showed what good people can do.
I have never been blind to America’s flaws: its ugly history of racism, its lack of a real social safety net, its gun culture, its vast inequality, and its foreign policy blunders. But America is a nation of self-correction, where positive change is possible. It is a nation founded not on racial identity, national origin, or religious preference, but on the idea that all are “created equal” and endowed with the inalienable right “to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” It has a Constitution that includes a Bill of Rights, and a government of checks and balances “of the people, by the people, for the people.”
This is the America I believe in. This is the America I have chosen.
But this country is now threatened by another America — an America that has always existed but is now closer to power than at any time in the country’s nearly 250-year history. And that is an America I do not want to be part of.
TAge of conquestThe era in which democracies fell to armed conquest ended with Germany’s defeat in World War II. (Russia’s attempt to revive that era was bloody and brutal, but it also failed strategically—at least as long as we keep our wits about us and support Ukraine.) The greatest threat to democracies comes from within. History teaches us that democracies collapse when a charismatic leader emerges to lead a movement of obedient followers. The leader develops a cult of personality. Unity is fostered by identifying a distinct enemy who can be blamed for social ills and economic woes. Benito Mussolini declared that “every society needs a part of the citizenry to hate.” Violence against the enemy is an essential part of creating and growing a movement and its strength. Victory is made possible by the steady erosion of the norms, rules, and fundamental rights that underlie democracy.
This happened to Italy in the 1920s, Germany in the 1930s, Venezuela in the early 2000s, and Hungary in the past decade. And it threatens to happen here in America. My father died in April 2016, but I remember well his warnings about what the rise of Donald Trump – a man with strong authoritarian tendencies, and wholly unprepared for high office – would portend.
Trump presents himself as uniquely strong and uniquely capable. Nothing underscores this perception more than surviving an assassin’s bullet, and the image of him being held up by Secret Service agents—fist raised high, shouting “Killer! Killer! Killer!”—is now cherished by his supporters.
Trump’s authoritarian tendencies are well documented. He has said he would be a dictator from “day one” and favored “terminating all the rules, regulations, and articles, even those in the Constitution.” He refused to accept his defeat in 2020, instead inciting a mob to storm the Capitol. He has publicly expressed respect for actual dictators, including Vladimir Putin (whom he has called a “strong,” “smart,” and “genius” leader) and Xi Jinping (whom he has called an “exceptionally brilliant individual who rules 1.4 billion people with an iron fist,” as if that were anything like admiration).
None of this matters to his followers, who are absolutely loyal. They see a nation besieged by enemies from abroad and within, and Trump as the country’s last hope for defense. “The greatest invasion in history is happening right here in our country,” Trump says. “They’re coming from prisons. They’re coming from mental institutions and mental asylums.” He says immigrants are “poisoning the blood of our country,” echoing Hitler’s racist metaphor in Mein Kampf. The enemy within is an elite class that despises the common people and relies on a “deep state” to subvert the will of the people. He says the mainstream media is lying, and that Democratic Party leaders are not just incompetent but “traitors.”
Trump will put an end to all of these enemies. He will close the border and redeploy the military to defend it. He will forcibly expel the 11 million undocumented workers in the United States. “We will dismantle the Deep State,” Trump promised. “We will get rid of the sick political class that hates our country. We will crush the Fake News Media…and we will root out the Communists, Marxists, Fascists, and radical leftist thugs who live like vermin within our borders.”
Democracy does not suddenly die in the dark: “It dies in the bright light of day,” as Adam Gopnik has written. Everyone witnesses the violation of rules and norms designed to keep the powerful in check. Yet many ignore or downplay what is happening, telling themselves “it’s not so bad” and “it can’t happen here.” But it is, and it can happen.
Those who hope that institutions like Congress and the courts will be able to stop Trump if he returns to power will be disappointed. He will turn the executive branch into an organization focused exclusively on carrying out his orders—promoting loyalists and firing anyone who opposes him. He will call in troops to get the job done. A Congress of his own party will not stand in his way; if it tries, it will ignore or bypass him.
As for the courts, Trump’s four years as president have already reshaped them—including the Supreme Court, a third of whose members he has appointed. In what may be the most important case on presidential power in half a century, Trump v. United States , a Republican-appointed majority ruled that presidents, unique among Americans, enjoy broad immunity from criminal prosecution for their official actions, which can include trying to overturn the outcome of a presidential election. As Justice Sonia Sotomayor argued in her dissent, the ruling effectively makes the president “a monarch above the law.”
Even if the courts ruled against him, it might not matter. Ultimately, it is the executive branch that enforces the courts’ decisions; the executive branch can sometimes refuse to do so. Andrew Jackson, one of Trump’s heroes, challenged a court ruling in 1832: “John Marshall has made his decision, now let him execute it,” Jackson is said to have replied. While the quote may be apocryphal, it reflects a course Trump will not hesitate to take.
Trump has declared this election the most important in history: “2024 is our final battle.” That’s why he urges his followers to “Get out and vote! Just this once”—because once he’s back in power, “you won’t have to vote anymore.” On this point, Trump is right. This is the most important election since at least 1860, and perhaps since the founding of the republic itself.
While my father always feared the worst, my mother was more optimistic, and I inherited both feelings: my father's fears about what might be, and my mother's confidence about what could be.
I remain optimistic, because while most Americans have fallen under Trump’s tyranny, most have not surrendered. Joe Biden’s courageous decision to put country before self not only stands in stark contrast to so many elected officials who have put Trump before country; it gives the nation its best chance to save democracy.
If that happens, America should thank God for what it has achieved. But it must also make the reforms necessary to strengthen our democracy in the future. Our political system has allowed a minority to seize disproportionate power – alienating many from politics and setting the stage for Trump’s authoritarian movement. Even if Trump is defeated, that system will remain at risk.
Most reforms can be made without amending the Constitution. The Senate majority should start by reforming the veto, which allows the minority to veto almost all legislation. Congress should increase the size of the House of Representatives, which has remained unchanged for more than a century, even as the population has tripled. This would help make the Electoral College more representative, among other benefits. Congress should also end gerrymandering, ensure universal access to the ballot, enhance election security, and require transparency regarding big money in politics. And it should reform the Supreme Court by introducing term limits and giving each president an equal number of justices to appoint each term.
Such reforms would force parties to compete for votes in the middle rather than at the extremes, freeing us from the hate-filled poison of the past few decades. The best guarantee for our democracy is to make politicians fight for voters’ support.
America is far from perfect. But its strength, as Obama reminded us, lies in our commitment to strive day and night to form a more perfect union. That is why I choose to be an American.
