I have been ‘doom scrolling’ through twitter feeds, and news sites for over 1400 days, since Trump won the 2016 election, and have kept in mind a rough, cumulative list of the wreckage he has made, the monstrous harm he has chosen to inflict.
When Joe Biden beat him, something unusual happened.
I could see that the votes for Biden were steadily climbing in the key states, especially Pennsylvania. My confidence grew but it was a purely imaginary confidence, a statistical confidence based upon how mail-in ballots were counted. I did not wholly trust it. I sensed disaster. I know that Trump is capable of any cheat, any dishonesty, any lie. He has lackeys who will do whatever he tells them to do. I saw the Democrats again fail in the Senate and lose seats in the House. Trump began tweet-screaming about a fantastical fraud.
Over these 1400 days I have learned something about political dread, that feeling of an omnipresent malevolence that threatens the fundamentals of a peaceful life in a peaceful domain. Orwell got it exactly right. He understood how powerful men (and women) like Trump can proclaim that up is really down, evil is really good, lies are really truth. Orwell understood how corrupt and cruel politics can corrupt and make cruel a body politic. Again and again, on Election Day and for the 3 and ½ days thereafter, I struggled to follow the facts of the vote totals and to maintain my trust in the integrity of those responsible for overseeing elections, both Republican and Democrat, and thus to keep in abeyance the apocalyptic possibilities of a second Trump term in office.
When Pennsylvania was called for Biden on Saturday morning, I was at work. I do not want to exaggerate this. I did not dance or let out a cry. I whispered the news to my friend, Mimi. Customers coming in knew. They spoke of their relief. We listened but were restrained. We were at work.
But inside, I felt a lightening, a physically distinct release of tension, and a few minutes of deep happiness. I would see the end of this man’s ravages. For once, however imperfect, the forces of indisputable goodness had beaten back an evil man’s immense power, and had done so peacefully, by the vote. Last Saturday was one of the happiest days of my life because I knew that Trump would not have another 4 years to smash human beings and truth and overall basic human decency. We have been spared what he would have done.
I have serious doubts about how this country, split between two voting blocs, fueled by an internet system of instant communication that promotes factional solidarity and conspiracy theories, can survive as a Union. I know that our internal conflicts will rage on. Our alienation from each other promises only to intensify. The threats to our democracy show no signs of retreating. However, as Michelle Goldberg wrote in the Times, “this [threat] — squalid, terrifying, degrading, tragic — is almost over.”
Saturday was a wonderful day. Joe Biden deserves global gratitude for his victory. For a few days, let us just give thanks.
