Grieve, breathe, reach out*
Never before have election results elicited such a physical response in me. It was not just a headache, eyestrain from too much screen time, or stress from the muscle tension. Not just nervous nausea. By midnight I could feel that a consuming sense of dread, loss and fear had settled deep into my bones. What came to mind was grief, a word I have heard from many others as well. I have yet to shake it free.
It was all the worse because, I realize now, I truly was not prepared. Was it naivete and rose coloured glasses? Was it being too deep within my own echo chambers and siloes? Was it being swept up in the waves of energy from Harris/Walz rallies, the trouncing given Donald Trump in the debate, and all the high profile endorsements. Or was it simply an inability or refusal to see what was, at least in hindsight, fairly obvious?
Whatever it was, as I sat down with family and friends on Tuesday night to watch the US election results roll in, I was confident that Donald Trump would not win. I was simply not able to entertain any other possibility.
How could he after all? By every measure he denigrates and eviscerates even the bare minimum standards of decency and humanity that a US president surely must embody. He contemptuously and dangerously corrodes the very fabric of democratic governance that is not only essential to the American people but truly, to the rest of the world as well. That view of him transcends right versus left political views; in fact some of his most vocal and compelling critics have been leading US conservative politicians and commentators. And it is not of course just speculation based on what he has said, it is entirely grounded in the devastating experience and consequences of what he has already done.
The nouns and adjectives that attach to him were surely indictment enough. Felon. Insurrectionist. Racist. Sexist. Rapist. Bigot. Hateful. Vengeful. Narcissist. Corrupt, Fascist. Violent. Unhinged. Islamophobic. Antisemitic. Selfish. Homophobic. Transphobic. Mean. Incompetent. Chaotic. Thin-skinned. Liar. I could, of course, go on.
I was not oblivious to all the countervailing warning signs. I knew that pervasive sexism and odious racism would stand in the way of Kamala Harris, no matter how exponentially more qualified she was. I knew that Joe Biden’s refusal to make it clear long ago that he would be a one-term president – giving his successor ample campaigning time – was a major setback. I shared the view that it was impossible to square voting for any Democratic nominee for president with the unconditional support and cover they have provided for the Israeli government’s genocide in Gaza. And I knew that right or wrong there was anger seething across the United States, anger about problems both real and imagined, anger easily tapped by a man who has made anger his brand.
Yet, here we are. And it is bad. Not only has Donald Trump convincingly won the necessary number of votes within the byzantine electoral college, he has done so with more than half the popular vote. The final tally is not in yet, but he has well over 72 million votes at this point in time; which will likely be the second highest in US history.
And it does not end there. His Republican Party – and I emphasize ‘his’ – will now comfortably control the Senate. That White House and Senate combination, and the judicial appointments that will be sure to emerge, chillingly portends an erosion of the independence of much of the US court system. The possibility of Republicans maintaining control of the House of Representatives seems within reach as well. And one shudders to imagine the cast of characters – farcically including the likes of Elon Musk and Robert F Kennedy Jr – who are likely to take up senior, influential positions within this next Trump Administration where they will be unleashed to pursue lunacy and vanity projects.
I’m not American and had no vote in this election. I do have many dear friends and colleagues across the United States, but I don’t live in the United States. So what gives with all my anguish and trepidation?
Much of that, of course, rests with the fact that the United States continues to occupy an outrageously outsized place globally, certainly for Canada. What transpires in the White House and Congress impacts us all, lethally and fatally so for many corners of our world.
But this is not just about cataloguing the devastating implications of impending Executive Orders, legislation, policy decisions, UN votes (or UN withdrawal), trade tariffs, and other measures I can readily imagine on so many fronts. It is not just the exhausting prospect of all the campaigning, advocacy and legal challenges that lie ahead in responding to the sinister Project 2025 agenda.
It is deeper. It is about what this means for people and communities, across the United States and around the world in the most fundamental ways imaginable. It is about life, death, freedom, safety, well-being, health, equality, dignity and rights. It does not get more essential or more urgent.
That is certainly so for the millions of migrants who have been viciously vilified and dehumanized for political gain and now face the prospect of having their lives and safety turned upside down. For women who have already endured rapid erosion of their bodily autonomy and reproductive freedom, and now face the likelihood of a full out assault on those rights. For children – and their parents – who will continue to face the very real risk of gun violence, while they are at school of all places. For trans youth, whose vulnerability and rights have been turned into political footballs. For Black Americans who can almost certainly look forward to ramped up racial profiling and police violence.
For Palestinians, particularly in Gaza, what is at stake is an even greater (hard to imagine how it could be greater) level of US support for Israel’s unrelenting genocide. For Ukrainians what is at stake is being abandoned so as to appease Donald Trump’s good friend, Vladimir Putin’s appetite for conquest.
And for all of us, for our planet, the minimal progress we are making in addressing the gravest threat of all, looming global climate doom, stands to be undone.
It is staggering to imagine what lies ahead.
And this is no time for our traditional Canadian moral superiority or disinterested complacency. It is daunting and terrifying to imagine a similar scenario playing out with our next federal election, which will take place sometime in the next 12 months.
No matter how much of a gut punch this has been, all around I already see that folks are taking a deep breath and finding their footing.
The coming days and even weeks will continue to be uncertain. And it will be easy to feel paralyzed by the enormity and fear of it all. In all of that, we need to give ourselves and each other time to feel, to process and to understand.
But not for long. As is always the way in the struggle for social justice, we need to dig deep, recommit and renew.
Where I will start is with solidarity. This is such a vital time to reach out in all directions. To every migrant, every woman, every trans teen, every Palestinian, everyone who faces Trump's wrath and bigotry, and everyone who fears the same from their own leaders.
Today, and all the tomorrows that lie ahead, we must stand together and we will move forward together, united in the resolve that hate cannot and will not prevail. It is in community and common cause that hope will rise, as it always has.
* Originally published as an opinion piece, As an international human rights lawyer, I’ve never felt this fearful about the future, in Ricochet Media on November 8, 2024.
