Donald Trump supporters line up to attend a ‘Save America’ rally at York Family Farms on August 21, 2021 in Alabama. Photo credit: AFP

The 2024 US presidential election is more than a Republican revival. It signifies a potential realignment in the American political landscape—a “red flood” that may indicate a fundamental shift in voter behavior and ideological preferences. With 48 of 50 states moving to the right, including traditional Democratic strongholds like California, New York and Illinois, the data suggest a deep, possibly systemic shift. Such widespread gains across the ideological spectrum reveal not just a reactionary vote against specific Democratic policies, but perhaps an evolving sentiment that transcends conventional partisan boundaries. This pattern may reflect changes in public attitudes toward government, political priorities, or cultural issues, signaling a reconfiguration of traditional political affiliations.

In New York, Republicans won significantly by flipping a state Senate seat in Brooklyn, a borough long considered a Democratic stronghold. Retired NYPD Sergeant Steven Chan defeated incumbent Democrat Iwen Chu in the 17th District, marking a historic victory for the GOP in the area.

A narrative war

Similarly, in California, traditionally a Democratic stronghold, Republicans have made notable inroads. The GOP’s focus on economic issues and public safety resonated with voters worried about the state’s handling of these issues. This shift is evident in increased support for Republican candidates in various local elections, indicating a broader trend of shifting political allegiances.

In battleground states like Pennsylvania, Michigan and Wisconsin, where political allegiances have historically been fluid, the Republican advantage was even more pronounced. The consistency of these gains across states and regions implies more than a transitory shift in preferences; suggests a deeper ideological realignment that could reshape the balance of power. Theoretical models of political realignment would interpret this as a shift in the “political center”, where structural changes – economic, demographic or cultural – redefine voter bases and challenge established party dynamics.

There are several reasons for Trump’s landslide victory, but this column is about the “us versus them” narrative that was responsible for the Democrats’ disaster. Democrats’ commitment to an “with us or against us” mentality — born out of opposition to Trump in 2017 — has created a powerful, polarizing lens that has shaped their approach to governing, especially during the COVID-19 crisis. What began as a rallying cry to resist authoritarianism evolved into a mindset that equated dissent with anti-democratic extremism. This was more than just a political position. Instead, it became an institutional position that influenced how policies were designed and justified, often eliminating more nuanced discussions.

Us vs. Them, Good vs. Evil

During COVID, this all-or-nothing framing has led to some of the most rigid and divisive health policies. Lockdowns and mandates were often presented as moral imperatives, where compliance was not just about following health guidelines, but about being on the “right side” of democracy. To question these policies—whether on scientific, personal, or practical grounds—was considered dangerous and almost treasonous. This mindset has stifled healthy debate and sidelined legitimate concerns, making policies harder for people to trust and follow.

Psychology tells us that black-and-white thinking strengthens group loyalty, but often deepens divisions. By framing responses to the pandemic as a test of democratic loyalty, Democrats have created an “in-group” of loyalists and an “out-group” of dissidents, making it more difficult to adopt policies based on feedback or new information. This phenomenon is called “groupthink,” where the pressure to conform discourages inquiry, even when policies might benefit from it.

The way that COVID-19 policies have become a litmus test for political loyalty also relates to a concept called “biopower,” in which institutions use control over health to impose broader values. Public health was not just about health; it was about loyalty to a certain political vision, with people who disagreed feeling marginalized. This kind of rigid, ideological enforcement strains public trust and often backfires, as we’ve seen with the backlash against certain policies.

Finally, by framing so many issues through a “democracy versus authoritarianism” lens, Democrats have made it more difficult to craft policies that appear inclusive and flexible. What was meant to be a defense of democracy ended up endangering it because it reduced complex issues to simple binaries, alienating people and undermining the very trust needed to make these policies effective.

A reaction against moralizing

Trump’s appeal can be analyzed through the theoretical lens of anti-institutionalism and political alienation, particularly within populism. Trump’s success represents a form of populist reaction against what its supporters perceive as a sanctimonious institutional order that imposes restrictive norms on speech and behavior, often called “political correctness”.

Sociologists and political theorists such as Pierre Bourdieu argue that dominant institutions, through their “symbolic power”, impose behavioral and linguistic norms, subtly controlling the boundaries of acceptable discourse. This enforcement often creates a sense of alienation for those constrained by these unwritten rules, especially in spaces where awareness of microaggressions or social sensitivities is heightened.

In addition, the theory of cultural reactions explains Trump’s appeal as a reaction from those who feel left behind by rapid social and cultural change. In “progressive” or “blue” states, where vigilance against microaggressions is high, individuals may feel stifled by the perceived demands of political correctness. Trump’s open rejection of these norms allowed him to tap into a reservoir of resentment among people who saw such standards as a threat to their freedom of speech. They saw Trump’s candid style as a release from the “oppressive” norms imposed by institutions they believe have become too focused on social sensibilities.

The limits of symbolic politics

In addition, this support reflects elements of symbolic politicswhere Trump became a symbol of rebellion against the elite-dominated cultural establishment. Trump’s direction and willingness to break the rules resonated with voters who felt dismissed or patronized by traditional elites. In this context, Trump’s willingness to “go too far” was seen not as a flaw but as a badge of authenticity, embodying the frustration many felt with a system they saw as imposing standards inflexible, which prioritize sensitivity over freedom of expression.

The American economy may look resilient on paper, but this supposed stability is a mirage for most people. Every visit to the grocery store, every utility bill and every tank of gas serves as a painful reminder that prices are now far above what they were in 2019. The government’s rosy narrative of economic strength is becoming meaningless in the face of everyday struggles — a reality where inflation quietly but relentlessly erodes purchasing power and undermines any sense of financial security. Claims of economic robustness fall flat when the public feels the daily longing for rising costs.

The culture wars

The relentless cultural crusades pushed by those in power have reached an intolerable climax, exposing a government completely divorced from the struggles and priorities of the public. Political scientists argue that this fixation on the culture wars stems from a desire to strengthen ideological bases and appeal to identity-based voter segments, ultimately reshaping governing priorities around divisive issues rather than of unifying objectives. This focus can be understood through frameworks such as “agenda-setting theory,” in which political leaders deliberately use cultural flashpoints to dominate public discourse, often at the expense of substantive policy areas such as economic stability, health care, or infrastructure. Such strategies exploit societal cleavages, turning them into political tools that offer little more than rhetorical gains.

Furthermore, relentless engagement in the culture wars may signal an evolution, such as political detachment. By constantly immersing themselves in symbolic conflicts, leaders effectively hide the disconnect between their priorities and the natural and measurable concerns of the population, contributing to a form of governance described as “performance politics.” This performance-based approach erodes institutional legitimacy, leaving citizens skeptical of whether the government intends to address genuine societal challenges or merely maintain a facade of ideological purity.

Thus, in a landscape where political loyalty has become a test of moral status, Trump’s unfiltered, anti-institutional rhetoric offered an alternative, channeling the frustration of those who felt marginalized by an increasingly performative political culture.

(Aditya Sinha is Officer on Special Duty, Research, Prime Minister’s Economic Advisory Council. Views are personal.)

Disclaimer: These are the personal opinions of the author