As I was watching Rachel Maddow this evening, I had a horrible sinking feeling in my stomach. Piece by piece, she demonstrated how Donald Trump deliberately incited violence in Chicago. His rhetoric has become increasingly violent, he now repeatedly states that protestors are "not good people" who are destroying America (and implying they should be roughed up) - and then there was the sudden cancellation of the Chicago rally when thousands of supporters and thousands of protestors were angry and ready to have a go at it. (Oh yes, claims Trump, he did it because law enforcement had warned him about security concerns. Another outright lie - the police confirmed they never had been consulted - but no one expects politicians to tell the truth these days, right?) I imagine the Trump political machine, gleeful at the successful manipulation of the mob to escalate racial tensions. And elated about the media coverage. And ecstatic at the intensity of emotion that Trump now commands.
As I watched Trump on the news clip, I grew increasingly angry, scared, and sad. Bringing mindfulness to the experience, I could sense the pain in my heart and the desire for a good angry cry. I was watching a really horrible, manipulative, wicked man, who could somehow actually ascend to the presidency. I was watching a powerful bully in action. It was like looking into the face of evil - and as a post-modernist, I thought I did away with the concept of evil ages ago.
So how do I, as someone who frequently takes the first Buddhist precept of practicing nonviolence, respond in this situation?
It’s really hard for me to separate Trump’s evil actions from his nobility as a human. When I look at him, I’m frightened by the potential threat he poses to billions of lives around the world should he come to power. I am instilled with the same sense of horror when I see portraits of Pol Pot and Stalin - people who are power-hungry, manipulative, authoritarian, and, well, evil.
Now, fundamentally, I do believe that under his spray tan and vitriolic words, Trump is a human, that he is not evil, and that he is capable of redemption. I know that evil is a construct and not always - or even often - a useful one. I know the hypocrisy of calling this man bad when he’s doing the very same thing to activists. I can’t imagine myself having the equanimity to, say, offer a prayer of lovingkindness for him. But I also see that Trump spins a karmic web of suffering that he is unlikely to shed in this lifetime. Somewhere underneath his egotistical self, he must be vulnerable and scared and trying everything in his power to not feel that way. I can’t imagine how hard he must work against his own happiness by employing means that lead to suffering and compulsively and continuously needing to re-inflate his ego. (I mean, sweet Jebus, did he really talk about his dick size at a televised debate?)
I’m also, really, really angry and terrified at the prospect of a Trump presidency. And I live in Canada - at least we can build a wall to America out.
In her recent blog post, Emma Lindsay (https://medium.com/@emmalindsay/trump-supporters-aren-t-stupid-3d38f70f2a2f#.2gabuoml2) speaks about the reasons why people may support Trump, and I think her analysis of the loss of dignity by the working class in an era of spiralling inequality is a brilliant thesis. There is a sense of threatened pride and the fear of not belonging which emotionally drives the Trump campaign. Her blog post points to a compassionate response to Trump’s rise to power. I’ve read criticism of her post saying that she is an apologist for Trump supporters, not calling them on their bullshit. Yet, while racism and bigotry and hatred are quite stupid, it is usually quite unhelpful to call people racist, bigoted idiots - you’re pretty unlikely to win someone over by calling them stupid. The fact is that we all can be bigoted idiots sometimes - I know, for example, that my conditioning as a privileged white male shapes the way I see others in a prejudicial manner. I am racist. It's not a personal failing, but a challenge that I inherited that I have to address For me, as an engaged Buddhist, it is the task of mindfulness to become aware of these conditioned racist thoughts and patterns, to undo the knots in my own bonds of suffering, and to loosen my identification with them as I practice my inner transformation. Lindsay writes:
We must find ways for the working class to maintain its dignity, we must find a way for them to have jobs that are satisfying to them, we must find a way for them to contribute to culture. We must find a way for them to feel heard. Which, by the way, are the exact same goals we need to have for oppressed races. We all need the same thing, and until we find a way to give it to more people, we will fight each other for it.
In making racism a personal defect rather than understanding its systematic, insidious and often covert nature, we really fail to understand why racism emerges in the first place. We make it a lot harder for people to confront their own prejudices. "I don't have a racist bone in my body, but..." says the Trump supporter shortly before spewing off racist remarks. Racism is something that Other Really Bad people do, not me. Ultimately, it seems to me more effective and compassionate to understand that the mob mentality and violent behaviours evident at Trump rallies has causes and conditions which allow it to arise. Like all things, it is part of the continuous unfolding of cause and effect that we call karma in Buddhism. Hatred in this case arises as a result of the felt deep sense of alienation. Calling someone stupid both demonizes the Other and alienates them further, making them even more likely to vote Trump. It’s like the sense of shame that fuels many addictions - and in this case, the hit, the short term relief from alienation, is being provided by Trump’s entertainment and hucksterism.
The potent image that often sticks out for me is the puppy by the side of the road. You approach it, he bites you, and you are ready to smack him before you realize his leg is caught in a trap. I think an engaged Buddhist response to Trump means trying to see the trap, to bring mindfulness to this campaign. We need to attend to what is happening with mindful awareness so that we can choose how to respond, rather than react in such a way that fuels the fire. Engaged Buddhism demands that we do not remain quiet, but that we continue to be voices of peace and love and nonviolence in the world.
I’m going to go work on sending lovingkindness to Donald Trump now.

