From the start, protests have been far more numerous and far more sustained than anything we saw during Trump I – far more geographically widespread also, penetrating even the most rural, Republican-dominated areas.

The gleeful aggression with which pundits from across the political spectrum jumped on the chance to declare that the (liberal) resistance was dead / had been pointless to begin with should have been a clear indicator that there was quite a bit of score-settling going on.

There was also a gendered dimension to the critique – a distinctly sexist dismissiveness towards “wine moms” as the backbone of the opposition to Trump: Their political activism is still routinely derided as “cringe,” as a form of liberal hysteria, as fundamentally unserious.

Most importantly, perhaps, the notion that there were no protests, no potent resistance to Trump, aligned perfectly with the narrative that the 2024 election had signaled a lasting rightward realignment, that Trump had a broad “mandate” to impose his vision on the country.

If you’ll recall, the election was actually very close. Trump won with a narrow 1.5-point margin in the popular vote. And yet, the idea that America had experienced a political “earthquake” that demanded far-reaching interpretations became gospel almost immediately.

Within days, the country’s leading newspapers and many influential commentators tried to outdo each other with ever more sweeping narratives, all propagating the idea of Trump capturing the "will of the people," all built on vastly inadequate, unreliable data – and a whole lot of personal preference.

Trump’s victory, we were confidently told, was the result of lasting societal shifts and signaled a profound reordering of American politics, an “American realignment” – perhaps even the end of political liberalism and the beginning of a permanent Trumpist era in U.S. history.