The Identity Politics of Trump and MAGA

On January 20, 2025, Donald Trump declared, “As of today, it will henceforth be the official policy of the United States government that there are only two genders: male and female.” The order mandates the term “sex” instead of “gender,” requiring identification documents like passports and visas to reflect what it calls an “immutable biological classification.”
Elon Musk publicly backed Trump’s order, applauding on his platform, X, that the “pronoun bs is finally going away.” This stance aligns with Musk’s history of criticizing gender inclusivity. Yet it has created personal turmoil: his daughter, Vivian Jenna Wilson, a transgender woman, legally changed her name in 2022, explicitly distancing herself from Musk. Notably, the U.S. passport policy now prohibits using “X” as a gender marker, a symbol Musk typically embraces in his ventures to signify openness, possibility, and innovation. The irony is stark: Musk champions “X” as limitless in branding but denies this openness in matters of human identity.
Trump swiftly dismantled numerous policies aimed at racial equity and protecting 2SLGBTQ+ rights, rescinding Biden-era executive orders designed to address discrimination based on race, gender identity, and sexual orientation. Additional orders aimed at improving conditions for Black, Hispanic, Native American, and Asian American and Pacific Islander communities were repealed.
Trump, Musk, and the broader MAGA movement loudly oppose what they dismiss as DEI. But let’s spell it out: they reject diversity, equity, and inclusion. They deride diversity as mere tokenism, failing to see that human difference in race, gender, ability, and background is a foundation for resilience and creativity. They resist equity, feeling threatened when inherited privileges are questioned and when fair outcomes replace entrenched advantages. Inclusion terrifies them, disrupting their imagined cultural purity, especially when it means fully embracing queer, disabled, or racialized individuals. By targeting DEI, they attack not just bureaucratic jargon but a moral vision of society where everyone’s dignity matters. Their campaign against DEI is effectively a war on the future.
MAGA spits out the word “woke” as if it’s poison. They wield it as a slur, scapegoating everything they fear. But “woke” originally simply meant being awake to injustice, a term rooted in Black American vernacular urging alertness to racism and oppression. Its meaning expanded to encompass awareness of systemic harm against women, LGBTQ+ people, immigrants, and the environment. To be woke is not perfection but consciousness.
When MAGA mocks “wokeness,” they reveal they’d prefer to remain asleep. Asleep to human suffering, asleep to climate catastrophe, asleep to the historical shadows of colonialism and slavery. Sleep is comfortable, feeding myths that the past was pure and progress is dangerous. Being woke demands attention, demands questioning power, demands caring.
MAGA refuses this call, weaponizing “woke” to silence dissent and reinforce old hierarchies. But the world is waking up, and they can’t hit snooze forever.
When Trump, Musk, and the MAGA movement say they’re ending “identity politics,” they aren’t rejecting identity politics; they’re masking their own version. Their claim is that politics should be neutral, colorblind, meritocratic, free from “special treatment” for minorities. But identity politics is universal; everyone practices it, consciously or not.
What MAGA actually promotes is an identity politics centered around wealthy, white, heterosexual men. This identity is falsely presented as the neutral default, with all other identities treated as deviations. Attacking identity politics allows them to defend their privileged position without naming it. They assert race shouldn’t matter, ignoring how centuries of racial injustice have shaped today. They claim gender shouldn’t matter, despite rules historically set by male dominance.
Their identity politics pretend objectivity but are deeply personal, the identity politics of billionaires masquerading as common sense. It’s never about unity; it’s about maintaining power.
MAGA proclaims “America First,” echoed in Canada by Pierre Poilievre’s “Canada First.” Ostensibly patriotic, the slogan quickly reduces to something smaller: “Me First.” Trump’s preferred pronouns might as well be “me, me, me.”
Thereâs a kernel of logic in prioritizing oneself during a genuine crisis. But that logic collapses as a permanent worldview. America isn’t in existential crisis. Its crises are largely self-inflicted, marked by democratic erosion, widening inequality, and manufactured culture wars.
“America First” twists cooperation into weakness and empathy into betrayal, ignoring that survival alone is insufficient. Solidarity defines humanity. Under normal circumstances, “Me First” turns prudence into greed, justifying power grabs and resource hoarding. Thus, “Canada First” isn’t merely policy; it’s a warning sign.
However, there is another, richer set of pronouns we might embrace: Martin Buberâs “I and Thou.” Unlike the self-centered “me, me, me,” Buber’s “I and Thou” involves genuine meeting, openness, humility, and mutual recognition. It honors differences rather than erasing them, viewing identity not as a threat but as a pathway to deeper understanding and connection.
Recall Muskâs fixation with “X,” symbolizing openness, the unknown, infinite possibility. Yet when applied to human identity, Musk closes that door. The passport no longer bears an “X” for nonbinary individuals, even as Musk uses the symbol prominently on his platform. Buberâs “I and Thou” challenges us to consider the true potential of “X” beyond branding, to see it as a symbol of openness to human diversity and authentic relationship.
In embracing “I and Thou,” we move beyond divisive slogans and self-centered pronouns. This richer form of engagement invites genuine openness, the real possibility Muskâs “X” symbolizes but fails to deliver. It offers a vision of society in which our deepest identities become doorways to meaningful, compassionate human connection.