EP09 | The Courage to Resist Tyranny

As America slides ever deeper into an authoritarian regime hell-bent on achieving the aims of Project 2025, one Facebook user speaks truth to power through his inspiring post to American citizens, reminding them that non-violent resistance is needed to save democracy.

This episode places the outcome of democracy in the hands of Americans.  We are reminded that "this isn't fate, unless we accept it as such," and in this episode find a three-pronged approach to actions for self, community, and broader American institutions under siege.

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Transcript

Transcript
Episode 09: “The Courage to Resist Tyranny”

Welcome to American Musecast!  .”  I’m your host, Susan Travis, exploring American politics using the construct of the hero’s journey and archetypes of the psyche.    This is Episode 9, “The Courage to Resist Tyranny.

It’s been a year since I launched this podcast, seeking to inspire Americans toward a more robust stewardship of democracy; to embark upon a quest for a sustainable future that embodies old promises of liberty and justice for all.  To my mind, we, Americans, are the heroes needed.  A citizenry called to confront the confounding realities of our political environment, and to demand a path of integrity and dignity for all.  A citizenry called to look up from our cell phones, to rise from our recliners, and to embrace our role in this saga of restoration.  At this point, that would mean all of us, left, right, and center, coming together as flawed but hopeful heroes navigating this heartbreakingly rapid descent into authoritarian terrain.  If you’re pro-democracy, you are called to this quest, because we are America, on a hero’s journey, and we have stuff to do! 

Last week, a Facebook post by Oliver Kornetzky, caught my eye, and I’d like to highlight that piece today.  I don’t know Oliver, though he has graciously given me permission to include his post in this episode of American Musecast.  I’ve read his words at least a dozen times by now.  In a way, it’s a poetic rendering of the themes we’ve covered through this podcast, what we are going through as pro-democracy Americans, how we got here, and where we are going.  It’s a message of recognition, accountability and hope.   I’ll start then, with the inspiring words of Oliver Kornetzky. 

Since Trump’s inauguration, something in the American psyche has ruptured. The comforting fictions we were raised on—the permanence of democracy, the inevitability of progress, the moral arc bending obediently toward justice—have begun to decay in the open air. And as the facade crumbles, many find themselves in the throes of a bitter realization: that democracy, like any living thing, must be tended, and we—distracted, sedated, entertained into stupor—have neglected the garden.

But for some of us, this is not an awakening. It’s confirmation. The slow creep of authoritarian rot has long been visible to those unwilling to mistake noise for substance. We’ve seen it metastasize in school board meetings, in voter suppression bills dressed up as “security,” in pundits who speak in slogans and legislate in spite. This isn’t a glitch in the system—it is the system, finally baring its teeth. 

American fascism doesn’t arrive with marching boots and armbands. It comes wearing a flag pin and smiling through lies. It speaks the language of liberty while gutting its meaning, builds walls while preaching unity, demands law and order while desecrating both. Its genius lies in its banality—it doesn’t shock, it numbs. It doesn’t seize power all at once; it convinces you to hand it over piece by piece, until all that’s left is the echo of your own consent.

And yet, even now, something resists. The illusion is fracturing. The machine groans. Some of those once entranced by the spectacle are blinking their way back to awareness. The slogans ring hollow. The outrage feels manufactured. The enemy-of-the-week carousel begins to look more like a grift than a gospel.

To those beginning to see it—whether with regret, disbelief, or shame—there is no need to grovel. There is no moral utility in self-flagellation. Simply step in. Join the ranks of those who refuse to be further weaponized against their own future. Redemption, in this case, is not spiritual—it’s civic.

But understand this: the middle ground is gone. It’s not that nuance is dead; it’s that the stakes have outgrown equivocation. This is not about partisan preference. It is about whether the society we pass on values truth or convenience, solidarity or submission.

Despair, seductive though it is, must be treated like any other form of propaganda: with suspicion. It flatters the ego while paralyzing the will. It tells you that caring is futile, that resistance is symbolic, that apathy is sophistication. But despair is not wisdom—it is surrender dressed in intellect’s clothing.

So yes—feel the rage. Let it bloom. But refine it. Make it do work. The answer to this moment is not retreat, and it is certainly not moderation disguised as maturity. The answer is engagement—real, sustained, imperfect engagement. The kind that builds something worth defending.

Because no one is coming to save us. There is no parent, no party, no perfectly articulated policy that will reverse this decline on its own. There’s only us—flawed, fatigued, infuriated, but still tethered to a vision of something better. Still capable of defiance. Still able to remember who we are.

And here is what must be remembered: this unraveling is not ordained. It is not gravity. It is not some immutable law of nature dragging us toward darkness. It is permissioned—enabled by what we tolerate, fueled by what we ignore, and shaped entirely by what we allow. History is not written in stone. It is etched moment by moment by human hands—hands that can just as easily build as they can destroy.

We forget sometimes that there is no “they” without us. The enforcers of tyranny have neighbors. Families. Old friends. Someone taught them to ride a bike, to read, to pray. Someone loved them. And someone, still, might reach them.

This is how we change the course—not with brute force, but with brave conversation. Not by outgunning, but by outlasting. By planting the seeds of doubt where loyalty once lived. By offering an outstretched hand in place of a clenched fist. By refusing to see each other as lost causes.

Violence is not the only language of resistance. Our refusal—clear, calm, unyielding, nonviolent —is itself a form of rebellion. Every time we persuade instead of punish, every time we refuse to dehumanize even those who’ve lost their way, we reclaim a piece of the world we want to live in.

Because at the end of it all, we are bound to each other—whether we like it or not. There is no exit from the shared human condition. Someone always knows someone. Someone always has a choice. And sometimes, all it takes is one defector in the right place, one refusal at the right moment, one person willing to say “no”—and mean it—for the whole damn machine to grind to a halt.

So remember: this isn’t hopeless, unless we make it so. This isn’t fate, unless we accept it as such. This is ours. This is still ours.  And when they ask what we did while the fire was rising, we will say: we remembered our humanity.

We remembered each other.  And we stood—together.

I must say, I meandered and belabored many of these points until I set aside my own efforts in favor of Oliver Kornetzky’s more elegant and inspiring path, because it brings us to the same conclusion, pointing to the high road of best practices, of hope, and of the redemption offered through the habits of a newly emerging dynamic citizenry.  

Now, normally, new presidential administrations shift our gears, marking new socio-political eras with a generally seamless, undramatic experience for most Americans.  We cheer if we win or grouse if we lose, but we trust we are morphing in ways that still bear the hallmarks of a democracy, the way that you trust that you’ll wake up still within your own life, still you.  Living our days on default, we tend to rest into an uneasy trust that our checks and balances and the rule of law are designed to prevail, and we rarely give even a passing thought to our own role in stewarding democracy.  We just live our days and coast; often politically disgruntled, grousing just enough to dodge any compelling action.  We grouse at dinner tables and coffee houses, we vote, pay our taxes, and watch the evening news and we perceive ourselves to be responsible citizens, but too often, it ends there.  Our passive citizen dynamics have suited most Americans like a pair of old fuzzy slippers, wrapping comfortably around our toes to provide the illusion of support.  Deprived of sufficient civic instruction, we’ve been shaped in this manner, and guided into the habits that we’ve accepted and leaned into.

Having indulged in decades of passive stewardship, we’ve now arrived at what might be called, “our comeuppance.” We’ve opened our can of consequences. There’s a modern term being widely applied to our choices:  FAFO – eff around and find out, because regardless of who is to blame for the direct mayhem, this is the America we’ve collectively earned, and we’re entering the tail end of the acronym.   The part where we’re finding out.  

Welcomed by millions, this is an America rapidly unveiling as neither of, nor for, the people.  This is exactly the outcome sought by so many, beyond their wildest dreams, they say.  The promise of Project 2025 has been launched with gusto, met enthusiastically by the MAGA movement and with precious little objection by their representatives.  After all, this is reclamation of an America lost to the racial and economic outcome of the Civil War, lost with the economic recovery and compassion of New Deal, and lost under the glow of emerging decency born through the Civil Rights Movement.  And now, to the MAGA movement and its predecessors, destroying those gains is welcome progress countering the bothersome backsliding of colonialism.

As for the backsliding of democracy, Oliver reminds us, “that this unraveling is not ordained. It is not gravity. It is not some immutable law of nature dragging us toward darkness. It is permissioned—enabled by what we tolerate, fueled by what we ignore, and shaped entirely by what we allow. History is not written in stone. It is etched moment by moment by human hands—hands that can just as easily build as they can destroy.”

It took Adolf Hitler 53 days to destroy democracy in Germany.  It began by undermining the media and undermining elections.  And if we wonder what we’d have done in those early days of any decline into fascism, it’s what we’re doing now.  Curling into despair because ‘it’s too depressing to pay attention.’  Waiting to see how bad it will get.  Or maybe just going along with what we can and ignoring the worst.  

Historically, American activists brought change through the Boston Tea Party, the Underground Railroad, the Civil Rights Movements, suffragettes brought change for women and minorities, and these people didn’t just whimper and curl in the first days because it was too hard, or too depressing.  Despite effects to their mental health, made a lot of noise for a LOT longer than 53 days, meeting with a measure of success that inspires our history, and which should inspire this very day.  And lest we forget, minorities of all stripes perpetually fight against injustice. They have been angry, sad, and tired for generations.  There is a price to be paid for courage.

As Americans focused on cellphones, sports and video games, believing that politics are lost causes, all the same, and not worth the effort of stewardship, this new authoritarian agenda gains momentum.  It’s not something we are imagining; it’s a natural outcome experienced throughout history.  Cause and effect.  

Originally, the point of this podcast was to reinvigorate and strengthen our democracy; but that task is a heavier lift today than it was only a short few months ago.  The dismantling is well underway, so now we aren’t just called to serve as stewards, we are called to enter the fray, to fight to regain our democracy.  And if you’ve always thought that it was too much trouble to steward and not what you wanted to do with your day, well, these are the consequences of indulging in that thinking.  

Perhaps it’s human nature to posture with a sense of invincibility, that it won’t happen to me – I can hold my liquor and I won’t get cirrhosis – I can eat high fructose corn syrup, and I won’t gain weight. It won’t happen to me. Sedentary lifestyle, junk food diets, credit card addictions; I can disrespect my neighbor and still have a community, vote or not and still have a democracy – ignore the check engine light, the hole in the sock, the leftovers in the fridge, the homeless man on the corner, the plastic at the side of the road, the aging bridges, the mass shootings, the increased need for food banks, the snark falling from our own mouths . . . MUST I go on?  Life in an authoritarian state.  It won’t happen to me.  Most of us are only just now learning the definitions of “fascism,” and “autocracy,” and some of us are still in remedial civics, learning not only about the importance of “due process” but learning to spin it as expendable.

Mass incarceration; climate change; pandemics; democracy.  Reproductive freedom; gender insecurity; food insecurity, gun violence.  America ignores its shadows through magical thinking, believing it’ll all work out.  But these things won’t solve themselves.  We don’t work them out by refusing to think about them or by indulging in self-delusion of invincibility.  By refusing to discuss or to lift a finger.  “It’ll all work out; it can’t happen here; we haven’t ever fallen yet!”  That’s a failure of imagination.  We see this in the responses to warnings of fascism and autocracy that would come with the Trump 2.0 administration – “That would never happen in America – we have laws, checks and balances.”  Well, that assumes trust and adherence to the law . . .  until no one follows the laws, and the checks and balances are ignored.  Until no one objects because it’s just too depressing and overwhelming.

In great part, our citizenry has been steered into complacency by a low political self-esteem. The devaluation of citizenship has been nurtured for decades.  It’s become acceptable and indeed, the safest social position to not care, not understand, not worry – to misunderstand or be distracted – it’s all socially in vogue to pooh-pooh political participation.  It’s common to discourage the discussion of politics, at home, at work, at any and every gathering – and further, to demean activism and to sneer at those who participate as either gullible or craven. We are here by virtue of a culture deliberately and willingly made cynical and complacent through the resounding refrain, “there’s nothing we can do, anyway – it’s all over.”  A deliberately diminished political self-esteem . . . psychologically disempowered.  It feeds the will to do nothing.  We talked about this in Episode Four of this podcast.  This, then, is our comeuppance – our due.  This is what we get.

It’s all there in the words of Oliver Kornetzky:  Despair, seductive though it is, must be treated like any other form of propaganda: with suspicion. It flatters the ego while paralyzing the will. It tells you that caring is futile, that resistance is symbolic, that apathy is sophistication. But despair is not wisdom—it is surrender dressed in intellect’s clothing.

So, you see, if a heartbeat can be ascribed to democracy, it is the people: even our very own woefully under-informed populace.  We are still the hope; a community of citizens consenting to being ruled by leaders they choose, and who specifically follow the rule of law – constitutionally grounded in human rights and the separation of governing powers.   

As a starting point, we need to value freedom for all.  Not just for the like-minded, like-skinned, or like-privileged.  Liberty and justice for all – that is the heartbeat of democracy to which we pledge when we consider our allegiance.  Not to the fabric of a flag nor to the rickety sentiments of our dysfunctional political parties, but our pledge should be to liberty and justice for all people, wherever they may be, whatever their state, whatever their religion or circumstance.  This political understanding MUST be imparted to the people, treasured by the people, and trusted by the people.  

But today, the heartbeat of democracy is erratic and palpitating.  Its blood pressure is unstable.  We are long lost from stability for and by the people. If democracy were a class project, we didn’t read, we didn’t study, we didn’t do the work. We thought we could “wing it.” We thought it didn’t matter anyway.  Each aspect of our liberal democracy seemed “optional” or self-maintaining. We didn’t THINK. 

But do we REALLY think that we can A= resolve or mitigate these issues by just leaving them to our elected officials OR B=that they will magically disappear like water evaporating; or C=that these problems are so big and so growing that we just have to accept the doom; or D (and this is the option I want you to choose) might we be able to mitigate and resolve our issues if we, as a people, one by one, find and issue and volunteer our time, and dedicate some attention.  Now, this is like a question on a test – A-leave to the govt. B ignore to pursue our own interests, C ignore because we are doomed, or D- do something, which I already told you was the answer!

Well, I don’t want to, you say.  I want to just keep my peace and play with my grandbaby.  I don’t want that to be how I spend my time.  Well, tell that to Harriet Tubman or Anne Frank.  Better yet, in the years ahead, tell it to the grandchildren wondering how democracy was so easily lost.  “It was so depressing; I didn’t want it to be how I spent my time  . . .  and on another front . . . .

Agreeing to disagree isn’t an option.   “We can disagree and still love each other unless your disagreement is rooted in my oppression and denial of my humanity and right to exist.” This quote is generally attributed to James Baldwin, but it is one by Robert Jones Jr., and it fits the moment.  Our president denies the humanity of people and groups, every day describing them as garbage, human refuse, vermin, and poison to our country, all while pointing at members of the media, liberals, veterans, members of Congress, foreign allies, scientists, immigrants, protesters, people of color . . . it’s a long list.  Again, for anyone, left, right, or center, who DOESN’T agree, simply step in and re-commit to a pro-democracy path.

And within the pro-democracy movement, there are at least two schools of thought on how to proceed:  Option A - Sit tight and let the MAGA movement fail so that their dystopian ideations play out and they are held accountable  -  someday.  And in that scenario, we would obey in advance to make it easier on them, so that people more quickly see the effects of the rot in full view?  OR . . . Option B recognize the American shadows within our history, stay true to our ideals, be alert for injustice toward others, and step forward to resist before it’s too late.   And, while there’s a certain satisfaction and merit to option A, just letting the chips fall where they may, those are petty politics, and it’s simply bad form to allow suffering in order to make a political point.

When we look for tasks in furthering our goals, we can protect our psyches by ignoring outrageous disinformation and commentary.  We need to take note, recognize, then neutralize their power by not engaging with them.  There is no opportunity for a positive outcome by engaging.  So, we can take that off our to-do list.  The MAGA goal isn’t to be right, it’s to hijack the energy of those who resist, so don’t let them. Ignore the bullies and diminish their power. Let’s suck the oxygen right out of their monetized algorithms and let's do the hard work of recovering our democracy.

The job of pro-democracy movement is to be proud and unwavering in our protection of personal integrity, civility, and the integrity of democracy.  Our democracy has been a house in disrepair for a long time, and our rebuilding will require all of us to step onto a higher road of behavior.  We don’t rebuild truth with more lies, or justice with more injustice.   Mallory McMorrow’s book, Hate Won't Win: Find Your Power and Leave This Place Better than You Found It, perhaps provides the mindset for the actions needed in the work ahead.  We need to practice our values.

So come on!  This is not a drill.  Get those fingers out of those ears and join in the quest!  Stop waiting for someone else to answer the quest and to be the hero.  Nothing stops any of us from entering the fray, and it’s going to take all of us. You can be old, retired, on SNAP, or in prison.  You can be rich or poor, documented or not; it’s going to take all of us. 

Welcome anyone who genuinely sees a pro-democratic path, no matter their party history, because they are here now, they add to the resistance.  Because that’s the goal.  To grow America into a gracious nation.  To reclaim our dignity. To ensure a thriving loving nation.  BE what we want to see in our democracy by restoring the integrity of truth and decency. BE the appealing alternative to that ugliness.  

We have very serious work to do.  So here’s a three-pronged plan for self, community, and actions wider afield. 

·         For yourself:  Be sure your personal affairs are in order.  Let’s not assume that old rules regarding property taxes or social security will protect us.  Have a will.  Be sure your car is registered.  Sort out your passwords and have a backup of your cloud. Get a REAL ID before the May 7 deadline. Verify that you are registered to vote.  Make sure you know where your birth certificate is.  Have a passport if you can afford one.  Get your personal affairs in order and help a friend if you can.  Spread the word.  

·         For your community:  Build pro-democratic alliances and relationships with friends, family, and neighbors.  Have a pro-democracy solidarity potluck or a barbeque once a month and invite a few pro-democracy friends. Invite new friends and attend their gatherings.  Hold one – attend one. This is not to trash-talk or hold a pity-party, but instead to build trust between one another, to share our gifts and to find areas of interest where our expertise and volunteer spirit make an impact.  Brainstorm what can be done and build enthusiasm for the stewardship of democracy.  Commit to being vigilant for and resistant to injustice, no matter who suffers. Build a community of closely knit pro-democracy citizens knowledgeable, articulate on the issues and committed to the high road of non-violent discourse.

Robert Reich notes that as we fight tyranny, we build solidarity. He says, “From solidarity, we draw courage. Surrounded by courageous people and institutions, we more easily find courage within ourselves to keep fighting. Remember: tyranny is only possible if people submit to it.”  Oliver reminds us that it isn’t hopeless unless we make it so.

·         As for the third prong - take action wider afield:  Find a focused direction for your expertise. If you have expertise, find organizations that need it to fuel the resistance and recovery of our institutions.  If you don’t have expertise, find an area of concern – public parks, local food banks – find a place to volunteer.  That’s what will help.  Find your interest – if you’re a teacher, fight on behalf of education; if you’re an environmentalist, find the actions and add your voice to that army of activists.  What do you love? The elderly, the disabled, libraries, travel, children?  Well, this administration is coming for all of it.  Find your niche. Find your allies and fight.  Let’s make those multi-great grandies proud – the suffragettes, abolitionists, and other early American activists seeking social and environmental justice. 

We are a nation of some of the most advanced experts in our fields. Prepare the game plan for your industry – your institution – your area of interest.  Collaborate across the margins of your area of interest.  Leave out what makes no sense.  Include your dreams for a better future, what regulations hold you back?  What’s always been needed?  What should these things REALLY look like in a functioning democracy? You’re troubleshooting. Troubleshooting the American institutions, because recovering will offer an opportunity to recreate from scratch, simply, more elegantly, more efficiently, holding tightly to the greater good.  Change the language, change the dream, change the players, change the money, change the laws . . . change our democracy into the people’s governance.  Today’s travesties are opportunities for real change.  Let’s not put it back together like a glued pot missing half the pieces, let’s find a better way.  Other imaginings. The dream solutions.  Because we’ll need a plan when the pendulum swings back our way.  So, let’s get to it. 

I urge listeners to remember three quotes relevant to the role of citizen contemporary political times.  First, the sentiment erroneously attributed to Edmund Burke, that the only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good people to do nothing.  It’s the predecessor of our own FAFO, a chastisement which goes hand-in-glove with the inspiring words of Margaret Mead:  “Never underestimate the power of a small group of committed people to change the world. In fact, it is the only thing that ever has.”  

Remember, too, the words of a single Facebook poster, Oliver Kornetzky: this isn’t hopeless, unless we make it so. This isn’t fate, unless we accept it as such. This is ours. This is still ours.  And when they ask what we did while the fire was rising, we will say: we remembered our humanity. We remembered each other.  And we stood—together.  Our thanks to Oliver, and to the many historic voices that mentor the journey ahead.

So.  That’s it for today, but for my dear listeners with a fire in the belly, please follow this weekly podcast and share it with others.  I welcome your comments and observations in the comments section because sometimes they offer a sparkle of ideas to include in other episodes.  Just use your manners.  I’m a real person.   Now, buckle up buttercup!  Let’s get out there, and steward democracy!