A dark blue rectangular image featuring the quote “The architecture of autocracy requires enablers” in large beige text. Below it, in smaller print, is the quote “Autocracy rarely begins with violence. It begins with the quiet erosion of constraint.” The quote is attributed to “The Author,” with a thin red line separating the two statements.

The Myth of the Lone Strongman

Tyranny rarely announces itself. It emerges when institutions defer and constraints quietly dissolve.

As Ruth Ben-Ghiat notes in Strongmen: Mussolini to the Present, autocrats like Mussolini and Orbán didn’t act alone. They relied on courts, legislatures, and bureaucracies repurposed by enablers of authoritarianism.

Modern strongmen gut democracy from within. Steven Levitsky and Lucan Way call this competitive authoritarianism”: a democratic facade that rigs the game so thoroughly that opposition becomes symbolic.

In Hungary, Orbán reshaped the judiciary, rewrote laws, and suppressed universities, all while maintaining democratic appearances. Scholars Sergei Guriev and Daniel Treisman describe this as informational autocracy”: rule by manipulation, not violence.

Trump’s second-term agenda mirrors this script. His praise for Orbán and Putin is strategic, not rhetorical. With judicial defiance and civil service purges already in motion, the U.S. risks replaying this model.

The warning stands: autocracy is collaborative. It thrives on compliant judges, enabling lawmakers, and obedient agencies. No despot rises alone.

The Supreme Court: Legitimizing Lawlessness

It’s one thing to interpret law. It’s another to help build an autocracy.

In recent years, the Supreme Court has shifted from checking power to channeling it. In Trump v. United States, the Court held that presidents have absolute immunity for core constitutional acts and presumptive immunity for all official acts, even when they violate criminal law, effectively placing the presidency above the law.

Justice Sotomayor dissented: “The President is now a king above the law.” Justice Jackson called the ruling an “existential threat to the rule of law.”

In Trump v. CASA, a 6–3 majority limited federal judges’ power to issue nationwide injunctions, even in response to unconstitutional executive orders like the attempt to end birthright citizenship. The Court avoided ruling on the policy’s constitutionality, instead reducing judicial tools to halt it, normalizing executive overreach in the process.

Justice Jackson’s dissent was biting: “The Executive wants to continue doing something that a court has determined violates the Constitution – please allow this.” She warned it invites the government to bypass constitutional limits.

Together, these rulings shift the separation of powers. They bolster presidential immunity, weaken nationwide judicial relief, and enable executive defiance of constitutional protections like the 14th Amendment.

No constitutional rewrite was needed, only the decision not to enforce it.

Congressional Republicans: Enabling by Design

When Donald Trump returned to power, he wasn’t met with skepticism from Congress. He was met with a Republican majority eager to codify his agenda through legislation that dismantled oversight and expanded executive power.

At the center was the “Big Beautiful Bill,” a $3.4 trillion package passed by House Republicans on July 3, 2025. It:

Though supported by only 29% of voters, it passed with just two GOP defections. Speaker Mike Johnson held the vote open for six hours, while Trump and Vance pressured dissenters in overnight meetings and calls.

As NBC News reported, opposition was met with primary threats. Even fiscal hawks reversed under pressure. Rep. Thomas Massie, a rare holdout, described it plainly: “They’re whipping this horse… to keep the other horses in the barn.”

Beyond the bill itself, Congressional Republicans have:

In short, the legislative branch hasn’t just failed to check executive overreach, it has facilitated it through institutional complicity. Whether driven by ideology, fear, or political calculus, the Republican majority has chosen consolidation over accountability.

Federal Agencies: Bureaucracy Rewired for Obedience

One of the most insidious transformations of Trump’s second term has occurred not in headlines, but in the machinery of government.

The Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), launched by executive order on January 20, 2025, was pitched as a modernization effort. In practice, it has become a tool of ideological enforcement. According to its Wikipedia entry, DOGE embeds teams in every federal agency with sweeping authority to terminate contracts, purge personnel deemed disloyal  and extract internal data under the guise of audits.

One of DOGE’s most visible crackdowns came when the EPA placed 139 employees on leave after they signed a petition titled “Stand Up for Science,” criticizing environmental rollbacks. Administrator Lee Zeldin defended the move as a “zero-tolerance policy” for dissent.

Meanwhile, under Attorney General Pam Bondi and Civil Rights Division head Harmeet Dhillon, the Department of Justice has dropped January 6 prosecutions, shuttered the FBI’s election interference unit  and shifted focus toward dismantling diversity initiatives. Entire divisions, like the Voting Rights Section, have been gutted, while prosecutors tied to Trump-related investigations were removed.

Enabling Has Consequences

This isn’t just about Trump. It’s about what we’ve allowed.

Judicial deference, legislative complicity, and bureaucratic obedience have normalized executive overreach, enabling autocracy and fueling the persecution of dissent. In his second term, Trump has used the levers of government to target critics, from law firms and universities to faith communities and immigrant organizers.

In April 2025, CNN reported that Trump ordered investigations into former officials like Chris Krebs and Miles Taylor, both outspoken critics of his first term. Law firms representing opponents faced pressure to provide nearly $700 million in free legal work or risk sanctions. While firms like Jenner & Block sued and won injunctions, others folded.

The impact spread nationwide: the SBA and HHS closed offices in sanctuary cities like Boston and Seattle; grants to schools such as Cornell and Northwestern were frozen over diversity efforts. Immigrants were detained for peaceful protest, including Mahmoud Khalil, a permanent resident deported under expedited protocols.

Even the courts weren’t immune. Trump allies called for impeaching judges who ruled against him, prompting a rare rebuke from Chief Justice Roberts.

Faith communities have been hit, too. The Interfaith Alliance reported raids on places of worship and funding cuts to nonprofits. Executive Orders enabled the administration to penalize religious groups involved in equity work.

The message is clear: dissent isn’t discouraged. It’s punished.

And yet, many institutions have folded. This collapse of resistance has allowed Trump to sideline the rule of law, persecute critics, and expand presidential power beyond constitutional bounds.

The Choice: To Enable or Resist

History will not only judge Donald Trump. It will judge those who enabled him and those who resisted.

Autocracy isn’t built by one man. It’s assembled by legislators who approve, judges who look away, bureaucrats who comply, and citizens who stay silent. But we all have a choice.

Across the U.S., many are choosing resistance. Whistleblowers in federal agencies have risked careers to expose unlawful orders and political retaliation. Cities like Chicago, Seattle, and Boston forfeited federal funding by refusing to comply with mass deportations. Faith communities have sheltered immigrants and defied executive orders targeting diversity and inclusion.

Grassroots organizers have built decentralized resistance networks and campaigns to expose corporate collaborators. Journalists and civic groups continue to investigate and document abuses, even as press freedoms face threats.

This resistance isn’t abstract—it’s strategic and grounded in precedent. As political scientist Theda Skocpol notes, the most effective opposition during Trump’s first term came not from viral protests, but persistent, local organizing that converted outrage into institutional pressure.

And it’s working. Courts have blocked key executive orders. Agencies have been forced to reinstate fired scientists and civil servants. Universities and law firms that capitulated to Trump’s demands are facing reputational and financial backlash.

But the work is far from over.

The real test is not whether Trump can be stopped but whether the rest of us will refuse to normalize what should never be accepted. That means rejecting the myth of inevitability. It means recognizing that resistance is not futile. It is foundational.

“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good people to do nothing.”  – often attributed to Edmund Burke

So, the question is not just what Trump will do next. It’s what we will do now.