History shows us that authoritarianism does not descend all at once. It arrives gradually, disguised as safety, stability, and order.
By Matthew A. McIntosh
Public Historian
Brewminate
Introduction
The United States is standing at a crossroads, and the stakes could not be higher. In his second term, Donald Trump is moving aggressively to consolidate power over the institutions that were once designed to limit presidential overreach. What we are witnessing is not just another cycle of partisan politics; it is the deliberate construction of a system that bears all the hallmarks of a police state. The blueprint is already being drafted in real time, through executive orders, emergency declarations, and an unsettling expansion of federal control over local policing.
To describe Trump’s agenda as authoritarian is not hyperbolic. Authoritarian regimes rarely announce themselves in one sweeping coup; they emerge gradually, through a steady accumulation of small, often legalistic steps that normalize extraordinary power. Whether in 20th-century Europe, Latin America, or more recent examples in Hungary and Turkey, the playbook is familiar: weaken oversight, centralize enforcement, and frame dissent as a threat to public order. The U.S. is not immune. With Trump’s latest moves (federalizing police forces in Washington, D.C., ordering military deployments to major cities, dismantling oversight databases, and shielding officers from accountability) the drift toward authoritarianism is no longer abstract. It is happening now.
The greatest danger lies in complacency. Many Americans comfort themselves with the belief that our law enforcement officers, our courts, or even the military will refuse to carry out unlawful or despotic orders. But history tells a harsher truth. Institutions bend under pressure, especially when compliance is framed as “protecting public safety” or “restoring order.” Even in democracies, the erosion of rights often begins with widespread support, as fear and anger make people receptive to measures they would otherwise resist. The recent raid of a Chicago apartment building by militarized police is just one example of how unchecked power can be wielded against ordinary citizens in the name of law and order.
This article traces the contours of Trump’s emerging police state. It examines the legal, institutional, and cultural shifts currently underway, situates them in the broader context of authoritarian playbooks, and asks the uncomfortable question: what if the safeguards we trust (the courts, the press, the military, even our neighbors) fail to stand firm? The answers will determine not only the survival of democratic governance in the present, but also whether future generations inherit a republic or an autocracy.
Historical and Theoretical Context
What Is a Police State?
The term “police state” is often thrown around as a rhetorical cudgel, but it has a precise meaning. It refers to a system in which the state uses law enforcement and surveillance not primarily to protect citizens, but to control them. In such regimes, the line between public safety and political suppression dissolves, and police powers become an extension of executive authority. The hallmarks include militarized policing, arbitrary enforcement, erosion of accountability, and the criminalization of dissent. Yes, America is already moving in this direction, and recognizing it is the first step to stopping it.
Authoritarian Playbooks Across History
Trump’s second-term maneuvers fit into a familiar authoritarian pattern. From Benito Mussolini’s Italy to Augusto Pinochet’s Chile, strongmen have relied on three basic strategies: concentrate the instruments of force in the executive branch, erode the independence of courts and oversight bodies, and frame opposition as a danger to the nation. The similarities are chilling. In Hungary, Viktor Orbán incrementally hollowed out democratic institutions under the guise of “emergency powers.” In Turkey, Recep Tayyip Erdoğan expanded the role of security forces and used them against political opponents. Each move was justified as temporary, necessary, or defensive—but over time, the exceptions became the norm.
The U.S. system is not immune to these pressures. In fact, its decentralized structure, where local police forces coexist with powerful federal agencies like the FBI, DHS, and ICE, creates vulnerabilities. An ambitious president can leverage existing legal tools, emergency statutes, and discretionary funding streams to centralize control. Trump is already experimenting with exactly that strategy.
The American Precedents
History shows us that the United States has long harbored authoritarian impulses. The Palmer Raids of the early 20th century saw federal authorities rounding up suspected radicals under the guise of protecting national security. During World War II, Japanese Americans were interned through executive action upheld by the Supreme Court.
More recently, the post-9/11 era ushered in the Patriot Act, mass surveillance, and indefinite detentions at Guantanamo Bay, all carried out within a legal framework that normalized extraordinary powers.
What distinguishes these moments from today is that they were responses, however flawed, to external crises. Trump’s second-term blueprint is different. He is manufacturing a “crime emergency” to justify federal intervention in local policing, and signaling that dissent itself is a form of disorder. The danger is not a temporary expansion of state power, but a permanent reconfiguration of how that power is deployed.
Democratic Policing vs. Authoritarian Policing
At its core, democratic policing rests on the principle of consent. Police derive legitimacy not only from law but from the trust of the communities they serve. They are subject to oversight, constrained by constitutional protections, and expected to apply force minimally and fairly. Authoritarian policing, by contrast, operates on fear and compliance. Oversight mechanisms are dismantled, accountability structures erased, and citizens are taught that resistance, even peaceful protest, will be met with overwhelming force.
The erosion of that distinction is already visible. Trump has openly celebrated aggressive policing, telling officers “don’t be too nice” when making arrests—a phrase that has since become shorthand for a governing style that views brutality as efficiency. When police raids become acts of intimidation rather than legitimate law enforcement, the shift from democratic to authoritarian policing is already underway.
Trump’s Second-Term Actions: Building Blocks of Coercion
Executive Orders and Directives
Trump has wasted no time using the tools of executive power to expand control over law enforcement. In April, he signed the order “Strengthening and Unleashing America’s Law Enforcement”, which promised to “empower officers” and “restore law and order.” At face value, this sounds like routine tough-on-crime rhetoric. In reality, the order strips away accountability mechanisms, encourages aggressive tactics, and signals a carte blanche approach to policing. The White House release frames it as protecting “innocent citizens,” but the subtext is clear: law enforcement loyalty is being redirected toward executive priorities rather than constitutional boundaries.
Trump has also threatened to cut federal funding to universities, cities, and states that resist his directives. These moves are designed not just to punish noncompliance but to send a chilling message: federal money comes with strings attached, and those strings are political obedience.
Federalization and Deployment of Forces
Perhaps the most alarming step so far has been the federal takeover of policing in Washington, D.C. Under a rarely invoked section of the Home Rule Act, Trump declared a “crime emergency” and placed the city’s police under federal authority. This unprecedented move effectively transformed the nation’s capital into a laboratory for centralized control.
But the experiment hasn’t stopped there. Trump has authorized National Guard deployments to major urban centers, including Illinois and Los Angeles, under the guise of quelling crime and unrest. The optics are unmistakable: armed troops patrolling American streets at the command of a president who openly embraces authoritarian imagery. These deployments establish a precedent, once soldiers are normalized as tools of domestic order, it becomes easier to deploy them again, against broader categories of “enemies.”
Dismantling Accountability Mechanisms
Perhaps the most telling sign of Trump’s intentions is his systematic effort to eliminate oversight. In February, the Department of Justice deleted the National Law Enforcement Accountability Database (NLEAD), which had tracked officers accused of misconduct. Without such transparency, police officers fired in one jurisdiction for abuse can simply resurface in another. It is not an accident. Removing this safeguard makes it easier to cultivate loyalty through impunity, giving officers confidence they will not be punished for carrying out questionable orders.
This rollback has been paired with new prosecutorial guidelines that prioritize federal intervention against “noncooperative” local governments. The intent is unmistakable: dismantle the checks that make law enforcement accountable to the public, and replace them with loyalty to the executive branch.
Rhetoric and Norm-Breaking
Words matter, especially from a president. Trump’s speeches and statements to law enforcement are consistently framed to encourage aggression and contempt for oversight. He has repeatedly told officers not to “be too nice” with suspects, remarks that the ACLU condemned as a direct invitation to brutality.
More recently, his allies have adopted even harsher tones. Stephen Miller, one of Trump’s closest advisers, shouted a rallying cry to “gun-wielding cops,” underscoring the administration’s reliance on force over law.
Trump has also consistently cast protesters, immigrants, and political opponents as “enemies within.” During demonstrations in Los Angeles, he labeled critics as “a danger to the American people,” echoing authoritarian regimes that equate dissent with treason. This rhetoric is not incidental; it primes both law enforcement and the public to see repression as protection.
How These Steps Fit Into the Authoritarian Arc
The Authoritarian Playbook in Action
Scholars and watchdog groups have long warned that authoritarian leaders rarely reinvent the wheel. They follow a tested sequence: consolidate coercive power, weaken oversight, suppress dissent, and normalize extraordinary measures until they become permanent. Trump’s moves align neatly with this pattern.
- Concentration of coercive power – By federalizing police in Washington, D.C. and deploying the National Guard in cities like Chicago and Los Angeles, Trump is consolidating direct executive control over the instruments of force.
- Removal of accountability – The erasure of the National Law Enforcement Accountability Database dismantles oversight that kept abusive officers in check. This is a classic authoritarian step: eliminate transparency, and loyalty thrives in impunity.
- Suppression of dissent – By framing protesters as “the enemy within,” Trump normalizes the idea that disagreement equals danger. Once dissent is criminalized, opposition is delegitimized.
- Co-optation of institutions – Universities, local governments, and city leaders face threats of lost funding if they resist. This tactic pressures independent institutions to choose survival over principle, a common authoritarian maneuver.
The Danger of Normalization
One of the most insidious aspects of authoritarian drift is its incrementalism. Extraordinary powers rarely arrive in one dramatic swoop. They creep in, justified by fear and fatigue. Americans have seen this before: the mass surveillance programs of the post-9/11 era initially provoked outrage, but over time many accepted them as the “new normal.” Today, militarized raids and federal takeovers are being framed as necessary to combat crime. Tomorrow, the same justifications could be applied to protests, journalism, or political organizing.
What is being drafted now is not a temporary response to crisis but a permanent reconfiguration of executive power. The longer these measures remain in place, the harder it becomes to roll them back.
Threats to Checks and Balances
The U.S. Constitution was designed with multiple guardrails: Congress, the courts, state governments, and civil society. Yet each is vulnerable to executive capture or intimidation. Congress, deeply polarized, struggles to check a president who commands loyalty from his party. Courts, while independent on paper, can be stacked with sympathetic judges or pressured to defer to “emergency powers.” State governments can resist, but as Trump’s funding threats demonstrate, financial leverage can weaken their resolve. Civil society (press, nonprofits, watchdog groups) remains resilient, but without institutional backing, their capacity to counter authoritarianism is limited.
The Role of Law Enforcement and Military
Perhaps the most dangerous assumption is that police and soldiers will refuse unconstitutional orders. History provides little comfort. From Germany in the 1930s to Chile in the 1970s, law enforcement and military personnel overwhelmingly followed orders, often rationalizing them as duty. Loyalty is reinforced by incentives: job security, promotions, or immunity from prosecution. In the U.S., Trump has explicitly cultivated that loyalty by promising protection from oversight.
When accountability disappears and dissent is criminalized, law enforcement becomes less a neutral institution and more an instrument of power. The terrifying question is not whether a few will resist, but whether enough will resist to matter.
Case Studies / Illustrations
The Chicago Raid: Authoritarian Policing in Action
The raid of a Chicago apartment building in September 2025 offers a chilling glimpse of where Trump’s policing agenda is headed. Officers, backed by federal coordination, stormed the building under the pretense of a drug investigation. What followed looked less like law enforcement and more like an intimidation campaign: doors smashed open, residents terrorized, and scant evidence to justify the violence. No meaningful oversight has followed, nor is any likely to occur now that Trump has erased the accountability mechanisms meant to track abuses.
The raid is not an isolated event. It is emblematic of a broader pattern: criminal suspicion is used as a fig leaf for heavy-handed force, while the real message is political, this administration will not hesitate to unleash militarized policing on communities it deems problematic.
Federal Operations in Los Angeles
When protesters took to the streets of Los Angeles in June, Trump’s response was to portray them as internal enemies. He called demonstrators “a danger to the American people,” blurring the line between lawful dissent and criminal activity. The police, bolstered by federal directives and emboldened by presidential rhetoric, responded with batons, tear gas, and mass arrests.
This pattern mirrors authoritarian tactics abroad, where protests are reframed as threats to national security, providing cover for state repression. By branding dissent as danger, Trump normalizes the idea that crushing demonstrations is a patriotic duty.
The D.C. Federalization Experiment
The federalization of law enforcement in Washington, D.C. represents one of the most striking power grabs of Trump’s second term. Declaring a “crime emergency,” the administration invoked a rarely used provision of the Home Rule Act to seize direct control over the D.C. Metropolitan Police. This effectively placed the nation’s capital under executive policing authority, bypassing local governance.
What makes this significant is not just the act itself, but the precedent it sets. If D.C. can be federalized with a stroke of the pen, what stops similar interventions in other cities under the pretense of “emergencies”? Today it’s Washington. Tomorrow, it could be Philadelphia, Atlanta, or Detroit.
Militarized Presence in Illinois and Beyond
The deployment of the National Guard to Illinois under Trump’s orders marked a turning point in the normalization of military presence in civilian spaces. The stated purpose was to confront rising crime. Yet the optics of armed soldiers patrolling neighborhoods sent a clear political signal: law and order now means military order.
This tactic mirrors historical precedents in Latin America, where the military was gradually embedded in civilian policing under the guise of crisis response, until civilian law enforcement was indistinguishable from armed occupation. The risk for the U.S. is the same: once military involvement becomes normalized, it becomes a default option for every protest, strike, or political rally that an administration deems threatening.
Local Resistance and Civil Pushback
It would be misleading to suggest Trump’s blueprint is advancing without opposition. Civil rights groups, local leaders, and watchdogs have raised alarms. Press Watchers described the Chicago raid as “lawless” and called for urgent scrutiny. Organizations like the ACLU have condemned Trump’s rhetoric encouraging police brutality, while progressive governors and mayors have explored legal avenues to resist federal overreach.
Yet resistance is fragmented, underfunded, and often drowned out by the sheer machinery of executive power. What these case studies reveal is not just the dangers of authoritarian policing, but the fragility of the institutions meant to contain it. Without robust, coordinated opposition, these local flashpoints risk becoming the building blocks of a nationwide police state.
Why We Can’t Rely on Law Enforcement or the Military to Refuse
The Myth of Institutional Guardianship
Many Americans soothe themselves with a comforting belief: that police officers, soldiers, or judges will instinctively reject unlawful orders from an aspiring dictator. It is a powerful narrative, rooted in civic pride and Hollywood portrayals of principled officers standing up to tyranny. But it is also largely a myth. History offers far more examples of compliance than resistance.
In authoritarian transitions, from Germany in the 1930s to Chile in the 1970s, the majority of law enforcement and military personnel carried out orders, even when those orders clearly violated human rights. Their justification was simple: duty, loyalty, and the chain of command. For every individual who refused, there were thousands who followed, believing they were “just doing their jobs.”
Incentives to Comply
Trump understands this dynamic and has actively cultivated it. By dismantling oversight, such as deleting the National Law Enforcement Accountability Database, he has removed consequences for misconduct. Officers now know they can act aggressively with little fear of discipline. The incentives are clear: loyalty will be rewarded with promotions, protection, and impunity, while resistance may mean career suicide or even prosecution.
In the military, the same pressures exist. Promotions are heavily influenced by executive leadership, and professional codes are often bent under claims of “national security.” Trump has already demonstrated his willingness to punish officers who defy him and elevate those who show loyalty. That lesson will not be lost on those still serving.
The Dangers of Institutional Capture
Institutions are not neutral. They are shaped by culture, leadership, and politics. Trump’s rhetoric, encouraging officers not to “be too nice” and branding protesters as “the enemy within,” and celebrating aggressive policing, has been absorbed by many rank-and-file officers. Such rhetoric doesn’t just embolden misconduct, it rewires institutional culture. Over time, what once seemed extreme becomes routine. This is how authoritarian capture happens: not by forcing every individual to embrace fascism, but by nudging institutions until brutality is normalized and dissent is stigmatized.
Historical Lessons in Compliance
The uncomfortable truth is that in moments of authoritarian consolidation, most law enforcement and military institutions do not act as bulwarks of democracy; they become enforcers of repression. In Germany, the police aided the Nazis long before the Gestapo was fully formed. In Chile, the military actively toppled a democratically elected government under Pinochet’s coup. In the United States itself, local police carried out Japanese American internment during World War II without significant resistance.
The lesson is stark: institutions alone cannot be relied upon to save democracy. Without active civilian resistance, accountability, and political pushback, law enforcement and the military are more likely to enforce authoritarian orders than defy them.
What Citizens and Institutions Can Do
Legal Countermeasures
The courts remain one of the few institutional brakes on executive overreach, though their independence is far from guaranteed. Litigation can still delay, expose, and sometimes overturn authoritarian policies. Civil rights groups and state attorneys general have already begun testing this strategy, filing challenges against Trump’s federalization orders and accountability rollbacks. Each case matters, not just for its outcome but for keeping a legal record of resistance.
Congress, too, has tools at its disposal. It can pass statutory limits on emergency powers, strengthen whistleblower protections, and restore funding for oversight bodies. But given the polarization of the current legislature, meaningful action will likely come from state and local governments using their own laws to shield residents and institutions from federal overreach. Resistance at the state level may be the only effective barrier when federal power expands unchecked.
Political Action
No authoritarian drift can be stopped without broad civic mobilization. Protests, organizing, and public pressure remain vital. The demonstrations in Los Angeles, though met with repression, signaled that dissent will not quietly vanish. Elections, too, remain a critical tool. Authoritarian leaders depend on mass apathy. Every act of civic participation (voting, volunteering, organizing) erodes the foundation of their control.
Local leaders, from mayors to governors, can also wield significant influence. They can refuse to cooperate with federal crackdowns, provide sanctuary for vulnerable populations, and challenge federal funding threats in court. Such defiance will come at a cost, but the alternative is worse: silence and submission.
Institutional Resistance
Institutions themselves must decide whether they exist to serve the public or the executive. Police unions, for example, could use their leverage to demand accountability and reject loyalty tests. Universities, targeted with funding threats, can stand firm in defense of free expression. Even the military, often cited as a potential bulwark, must reaffirm professional codes that place the Constitution above the president.
Civil society organizations—NGOs, watchdog groups, professional associations—must amplify these efforts. They cannot stop federal overreach on their own, but they can document abuses, mobilize public opinion, and provide resources for legal defense. Their role is not marginal; it is essential.
Building Resilient Democracy
In the long run, the best defense against authoritarianism is civic resilience. That means education systems that teach constitutional literacy, media environments that promote critical thinking, and communities that refuse to normalize repression. It means ensuring that the next generation understands how fragile democracy really is, and how easily it can slip away.
Authoritarianism thrives on isolation and fear. Democracy survives on solidarity. Building networks of resistance (legal, political, institutional, and cultural) is the only way to counter the steady drift toward a police state. The responsibility does not fall on law enforcement or the military. It falls on all of us.
Objections, Counterarguments, and Caveats
The “Crime Emergency” Defense
Supporters of Trump’s second-term agenda often frame his actions as legitimate responses to rising crime. They point to urban violence, drug trafficking, and gang activity as justification for federalizing police or deploying the National Guard. But this framing obscures the central question: are these measures proportional, necessary, and constitutional? Crime emergencies can be weaponized as pretexts for consolidating power. History shows that authoritarian leaders almost always justify repression in the name of security.
“Every President Uses Emergency Powers”
Another common objection is that Trump is simply doing what other presidents have done, using emergency powers to respond to crises. After all, Lincoln suspended habeas corpus during the Civil War, and George W. Bush expanded surveillance after 9/11. But the distinction lies in intent and permanence. Trump is not responding to an external attack or civil war; he is manufacturing emergencies to justify federal interventions. Unlike temporary wartime measures, his blueprint seeks to make these powers the norm rather than the exception.
Public Opinion as a Constraint
Some argue that Trump cannot become a dictator because the American public would resist. But this optimism overlooks how authoritarianism creeps in under the cover of legality. If police deployments, federal takeovers, and militarized raids are framed as protecting “law-abiding citizens,” large portions of the public may cheer them on. In fact, authoritarian leaders often enjoy strong public support precisely because fear convinces people to accept extraordinary measures. Popularity is not proof of democracy; it can be a vehicle for its erosion.
Risks of Overstatement
It is important not to overstate the case. The United States still has functioning elections, an independent press, and strong traditions of civic activism. Not every police raid or Guard deployment is automatically evidence of fascism. But to downplay the danger is equally reckless. The signs of authoritarian drift are real, and dismissing them until it is too late has been the fatal mistake of many societies.
Acknowledging nuance does not weaken the warning; it strengthens it. This is not about exaggerating Trump’s power; it is about recognizing the trajectory of his actions. The danger lies not in some future coup but in the normalization of authoritarian practices happening right now.
Conclusion
The United States is not yet a full-fledged police state, but the trajectory is unmistakable. Trump’s second-term policies (federalizing local police, erasing accountability, deploying soldiers into city streets, and casting dissenters as “enemies within”) mirror the playbooks of authoritarian regimes across history. They are not random acts of policy but deliberate steps in a blueprint designed to consolidate executive power through control of law enforcement.
The most dangerous illusion is that our institutions will automatically hold the line. They will not, unless citizens, courts, states, and civil society force them to. Left unchecked, the steady accumulation of power will become self-perpetuating, eroding the fragile checks that sustain a republic. What begins as exceptional “emergency powers” will harden into ordinary governance, and what once seemed unthinkable will be accepted as normal.
History shows us that authoritarianism does not descend all at once. It arrives gradually, disguised as safety, stability, and order. Americans must recognize the warning signs for what they are, not partisan squabbles, but existential threats to democracy itself. The Chicago raid, the D.C. federalization experiment, the erasure of oversight databases, these are not isolated incidents. They are the scaffolding of a police state in the making.
The republic will not be preserved by wishful thinking. It will endure only if Americans confront this reality with vigilance, resistance, and a renewed commitment to democratic principles. We cannot outsource the defense of liberty to institutions that may already be compromised. The responsibility belongs to us all, now, before it is too late.
Originally published by Brewminate, 10.08.2025, under the terms of a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International license.
About the Author
