The election of Barack Obama as President of the United States in November 2008 was notable not only for the historic breakthrough for African Americans, but also for the dignity and eloquence displayed in defeat by Obama's rivals.

Senator John McCain quickly conceded, speaking of “the honor” of calling Obama to congratulate him because “his success alone commands my respect for his abilities and perseverance.”

But McCain did much more; As the losing candidate, he spoke about what a great day it was for America, and his words then scream to be remembered, not just for their contemporary power but because they serve as a stark reminder of how far America's political standards have fallen .

That Obama had managed to win, McCain said, “by raising the hopes of so many millions of Americans who had once mistakenly believed that they had little say or influence in the election of an American president is something I applaud him for.” I deeply admire.” . Today's America is a far cry from the cruel and arrogant bigotry of that time. There should now be no reason for an American not to value his citizenship. . . Obama has achieved great things for himself and this country. I applaud him for that.”

McCain also urged his own supporters to “offer our goodwill and earnest efforts to find ways to come together to our next president.”

Racists also felt deeply uncomfortable with Obama's election, and these pressures intensified. Race, as always, is a factor in the current election, as is immigration, and as has been widely highlighted, inflation, food prices, and class and educational differences also determine preferences.

But the most worrying thing about the current campaign and what lies ahead is the lack of any desire to calm post-storm tensions, the kind of desire expressed in McCain's magnanimous and mature words.

It is hardly surprising that historians and others have resorted to analyzing the Nazi playbook, since nativism and the “cruel and proud bigotry” that McCain hoped had been eradicated were rampant in American political life.

Whether Trump is a fascist or, as American journalist George Packer describes it, an “all-American demagogue,” he and those around him are clearly trying to promote and exploit “the politics of cultural despair,” a description used by used by historians who trace the rise of the National Socialists in Germany.

One of these historians, Saul Friedlander, has highlighted the mix of “ideological fanaticism and pragmatic calculation” and the sometimes “uncontrolled rage” that was openly expressed in the 1930s and was triggered by obstacles, threats or defeats.

Trump has no central ideology, but as Richard J. Evans, who has written a trilogy of books about the Nazis, has pointed out, it is also the “consenting elite” surrounding the demagogue that has a profound and damaging influence, and that is of particular relevance with regard to legal and political controls on power relations.

Evans is reluctant to call Trump Hitler, given his isolationist tendencies, but “I still think he and his followers pose a real threat to democracy with their fanaticism and denial of the truth.”

Liberal and academic perspectives, however, are far removed from next week's crucial county battles in the US. What matters is how many see political polarization as part of their social identity while grappling with fundamental challenges.

Propaganda, lies, fear and “othering” thrive in this cauldron while “the elites” are insulted. A common identity is thus pushed out of reach, or as Richard Slotkin calls it in his recent book A Great Disorder: webs of beliefs and practices that can bind nations are torn apart because there is no higher affinity between those who have little have in common.

Democrats have been slow to recognize these fault lines and have failed to find an effective response. What many see from the Democrats is too watery, a preoccupation with balancing different wings, always on a tightrope, far too late to question Biden's weaknesses, and too deferential to corporate interests and cultural justice. Their talk of grief over what is happening in the Middle East is undermined by the US's continued funding of much of this carnage.

Historically, extremist movements have evolved from a pessimism and preoccupation with community decline that morphs into militant nativism, seen today as a reaction to a much-held American narrative about “helping a small town Watching people die,” leaving decent people feeling betrayed.

Demagogues offer simple, slogan-based solutions in response to this psychology of resentment, denying catastrophic climate change, indulging in racist dog whistles, and profiting greatly from visibility and shock tactics.

As France's far-right politician Eric Zemmour advised: “If you want to win, be radical, even outrageous.” . “People expect steadfastness and conviction.”

The gigantic political conflicts in the USA are now characterized more by outrage than by hope.