Why No Kings might have been a bust
A few days removed from the latest “No Kings” protests, I must reflect, consolidate my thoughts, and express here on my mostly apolitical blog.
This blog literally is dedicated to the idea that no one will read it. Which today might be a good thing, because this entry would likely piss off both Democrats and Republicans. Republicans more so. I’m fantasizing I’m addressing the Democratic Party or other organizations opposing Trump:
You might have done yourself more harm than good on Saturday. Fortunately, Trump was even worse, going below shameless with his defiling video mockery, distracting attention from your missteps. Still, you need to do better, be more strategic. The country we know and love may depend on it.
My wife and I attended our first No Kings rally Saturday in downtown Orlando, Florida. We left disillusioned—and a little worried about the Donald Trump opposition movement.
Trump tries to convince middle-class and working people that his opponents are a bunch of left-wing extremists. I worry that, for many middle-class and working people, that’s kinda what the No Kings speakers lineup sounded like.
In our rally, the messaging scattershot so many progressive messages, from Gaza to socialism to police brutality, that there was something in the messaging to turn off just about anyone.
I don’t know what rallies were like in June or July in Orlando, or last weekend in New York, LA, or anywhere else. I haven’t read, heard, or seen anything, though, that eases my concern.
No Kings organizers say Saturday’s rallies across the United States drew a combined 7 million people.
Organizers should take notice not just of the numbers who showed up—but also of the numbers who left early. When people walk out of an entertainment event early, the show’s probably a flop. When people walk out of a sporting event early, the home team is probably being embarrassed. Promoters rightfully panic.
We stood next to a corridor deep in the crowd. Less than an hour into the two-hour rally, the direction of primary flow in that corridor was out, not in. It wasn’t too much later that we joined the exodus. Sure enough, people were leaving the rally.
I’m sure many people came, as we did, expecting to hear rousing speeches decrying Trump’s government-weaponized attacks on freedoms, democracy, history, science, justice, public education, public health, equality, rule of law, Constitutional rights, and political opposition; his propaganda efforts to promote lies and ban ideas and expressions of truth; his villianization of critics; ICE’s Gestapo-like activities; Trump’s reckless foreign policies and war crimes; his uncaring and self-serving economic policies; his normalization of racism, misogyny, antisemitism, xenophobia, and homophobia; the unchecked corruption throughout his administration; Trump’s despot-like consolidation of power; his moral, ethical, and civil disgrace of the Office of the POTUS; etc.
We didn’t hear such speeches in Orlando, not in the time we stayed. No one even attempted to inspire us to unite in such a big-picture way. I saw no high-profile speakers.
Instead, we got a procession of flame-throwing activists and organizers, each promoting some narrow cause. Bless them all. Yet what they had in passion they lacked in broad appeal. It was as if organizers saw the rally as an opportunity for every local progressive organization to solicit attention. To us, it was like, “Since we have you all here, let us educate you on other issues.”
They may be worthy causes. But in the bigger picture of Trump opposition, most are distractions. And a few—let’s be honest—are potentially divisive distractions.
Organizers didn’t seem to appreciate that the crowd was an unlikely union of disparate people who came desperately seeking community against a common threat.
To me, many of the people walking out early looked as if they were thinking, “I’ve heard enough.”
