President Donald Trump speaks to reporters after arriving on Air Force One at Joint Base Andrews, Md., on Tuesday.
President Donald Trump speaks to reporters after arriving on Air Force One at Joint Base Andrews, Md., on Tuesday. Credit: Alex Brandon / AP

There comes a moment in the life of every nation when it must confront itself, not as it pretends to be, but as it truly is. America is standing at that moment now.

The question before us is not simply political, but spiritual: Will this nation choose justice over power, truth over deception and love over fear?

In 2025, as the name Donald Trump once again dominates our headlines and households, we must be clear: This is not just a man in a leadership position. It is a movement, a movement animated by fear, sustained by lies and rooted in the oldest sins of America.

Let it be known: Trumpism is not a political philosophy. It is a spiritual sickness. It is the resurrection of the idea that some were born to rule and others to serve. That violence is justified in defense of privilege. That whiteness entitles one to impunity. And that truth itself can be buried under propaganda.

Trumpism wraps itself in patriotism and hides behind the cross. It uses the language of freedom to wage war against actual liberty. It doesnโ€™t seek to correct Americaโ€™s sins; it seeks to normalize them.

Donald Trump, who has openly declared he wouldnโ€™t be a dictator, โ€œexcept for day 1,โ€ is not hiding his intentions. He promises to round up immigrants into detention camps, crush dissent through militarized force and remove and defund government institutions of those who oppose him. This is not leadership. It is not patriotism. And it is certainly not โ€œmaking America great again,โ€ because for Black Americans, the idea of Americaโ€™s past greatness is a myth. This is not democracy. This is authoritarianism with a media behind it.

We must recognize that this is not a new crisis. What weโ€™re seeing is just the expression of a white fear that has shadowed America since its founding.

This fear gave rise to the auction block and the lash, the lynching tree and the burning cross. It justified the slave patrol and the prison-industrial complex. It erased Black wealth through redlining and wage theft and buried Black voices under voter suppression and erased their culture. It killed Malcolm and Martin, Medgar and Fred. And today, it rallies behind a man who makes hatred his platform, and his promise is only revenge, racism, genocide and oppression.

But Black people are not strangers to struggle. We descend from those who built this nation with scarred hands and unshaken hope. From those who were enslaved and still sang. Who were shackled and still marched. Who were hunted and still rose.

We are the children of Harrietโ€™s footsteps, Sojournerโ€™s witness, Baldwinโ€™s fire and Fannie Louโ€™s courage. We carry the radical dream of Dr. King, not one of shallow peace, but of holy confrontation with injustice.

There comes a time when silence is betrayal. That time is now. We cannot retreat into comfort. We cannot worship in churches without principles or build communities without commitment. To remain quiet is to consent. To be neutral in the face of rising fascism is to be complicit in its success.

We must speak and act. We must declare that voting is the path. That education must tell the whole truth. The rights of women, Black people, immigrants, queer people and the poor are human rights โ€” they are not optional, not negotiable and must never be violated. That we will not return to a past where power was protected at the expense of people.

Let us be clear: We are not asking for revenge. We are asking for justice. We do not hate America, we love it enough to tell it the truth. We do not reject this nation.

Dr. King warned of โ€œthe appalling silence of the good people.โ€ Baldwin reminded us that โ€œinnocence constitutes the crime.โ€ Fannie Lou Hamer cried, โ€œIโ€™m sick and tired of being sick and tired.โ€

We must now pick up their banner, not for remembrance but because itโ€™s a necessity. This is our generationโ€™s test. We must remember that we did not run. We did not stop the fight. We did not stay silent. We organized. We resisted. And we believed.

Trumpism may try to destroy democracy. But we, the people, have the power to determine the future.

We are not asking for justice.

We are demanding it.

Fisto Ndayishimiye is the co-director of Project S.T.O.R.Y. He also formed One Concord to represent different marginalized communities in the city.