The upcoming election has undeniably existential stakes—for the Republican Party. If Trump prevails, the right can replace macro-level introspection with micro-level infighting over what to do with the reins of government. If Harris wins, however, Republicans will be forced to come to terms with the fact that they no longer have a coherent political ideology to coalesce around.
I argue that there are three relevant strands of political thought running from the rise of Trump in 2015 to where we are today: fusionism, Trumpism, and postliberalism. Understanding the evolution of these ideologies explains the division and seemingly contradictory positions among conservatives today and the possibilities for the future of the American right.
The failure of fusionism paved the way for Trump’s rise. This was the coalition of libertarians (think tax cuts and free markets), traditionalists (think Evangelical Christians and Dobbs), and neo-conservatives (think war hawks like John Bolton) that carried Reagan to 489 electoral votes and defined the Republican party in the decades to come.
The fusionist alliance was under severe strain from the outset: tax cuts for the wealthy and reduced government spending largely hurt traditional conservatives, while economic conservatives were indifferent at best to many of the social policies that the party pushed, such as opposition to abortion. More fundamentally, they had a disagreement in values: as Stephanie Slade highlights, traditionalists supported strong institutions to promote individual virtue, while libertarians supported weak institutions to promote individual freedom. Both groups could temporarily put these issues aside to unite behind their theory of government—or, more accurately, their non-theory. Both agreed that federal intervention was bad across the board, both in markets and in traditional institutions like the church and family.
In the decades since Reagan, however, traditionalists began to realize that they got the short end of the stick. By the time 2016 came around, America had fundamentally changed socially and economically to disfavor them. Liberals in coastal cities accumulated far more wealth than those in rural communities who were also disproportionately impacted by economic globalization and the decline in domestic manufacturing. Increasing liberalization in key issues like familial relations and religion meant that for traditionalists, the government needed to do something to create positive change. The failure of Mitt Romney, eight years of Obama, and a feeling they were losing ground in the culture wars left Republicans with a stronger belief than ever that they needed to win soon.
Enter Donald Trump. From the outset, he only represented two-thirds of the fusionist coalition. Although neo-conservatives were a key piece of the anti-communist movement that elected Reagan, they swiftly lost influence after a series of disastrous foreign interventions. Trump’s isolationist foreign policy and pro-dictator rhetoric showed that their representation in the Republican party was over. Libertarian interests were still represented by tax cuts and deregulation, but Trump’s xenophobic rhetoric and complete disregard for institutions set him apart from other candidates.
Trump developed a cult of personality that grew beyond him to play on the anger many Americans felt towards the political establishment and the fear they felt in a rapidly changing economic moment. This is Trumpism: a right-wing populism built around the figure of Donald Trump more than any single policy. The representative figure of this year’s election was the wall: an outrageous idea that ran counter to a previously held consensus (according to Gallup, just 34% of voters thought immigration should decrease in 2016 compared to 55% today). Trumpism enabled voters could project their hopes onto the figure of the former President rather than turning to a well-defined political platform. Traditionalists viewed him as a new source of hope for change, voting him in as a candidate guaranteed to shake things up.
Over 2016-2020, the Republican party transformed from the fusionist coalition into the party of Trump. “Neo-con” is now a slur on the right, a development encapsulated by Dick Cheney endorsing Kamala Harris. Meanwhile, libertarians were still on board but more despite Trump than because of him. A Democratic president would be bad for business, the thought went—until COVID happened. Trump’s mismanagement and bad fortune left him looking incompetent, and Joe Biden narrowly squeaked out a victory.
January 6th was the pivotal moment for Trump supporters. If you stuck with him through such a blatantly illegal and profoundly undemocratic act, nothing would shake your faith in him. This event and the ensuing legal battles martyred him, boosting him in the primary to soundly defeat Nikki Haley et al. without attending a single debate. In the interim between 2020 and 2024, however, something was brewing among the intellectual right. A group of conservatives calling themselves “postliberals” had been making waves pushing a new vision for the party.
Postliberalism prioritizes obligations over freedoms, arguing that our society has actually been too successful in granting people rights and thus neglected traditional institutions. This aligns most with traditionalists, as both greatly value religion and the traditional family structure. The influence of this strain of thought should not be understated: J.D. Vance, the vice presidential candidate, explicitly aligned himself with the movement. The Heritage Foundation’s Project 2025, which Trump has desperately tried to distance himself from despite the foundational roles some of his closest allies played in its creation, has a preview of the policy of postliberalism. The document, over 900 pages long, focuses on dismantling the administrative state while cracking down on key culture war issues through sweeping government action—for example, eliminating the Department of Education.
The influence of postliberal thought is most apparent in Trump’s economic policy. Rather than emphasizing the traditional economic conservative talking points (of course, he is still proposing tax cuts for the rich), Trump’s rhetoric has adopted a more populist sheen this time around. Even during the recent debate, he highlighted his proposals to eliminate taxes on tips and increase tariffs on imports, both of which are big-government policies aimed at his more traditionalist supporters.
There is also a gendered element to these policies. In a recent interview, Oren Cass—a key architect of much of Project 2025’s economic agenda—stated that: “we want … a single income be sufficient to support the family so that you have choices about the extent to which you want one or two earners. And especially, you can have a parent at home with young kids.” In other words, we need to be able to restore an economic situation in which blue-collar men work and women stay at home. The formally neutral tone here runs counter to the substance of the proposals, which are focused on restoring overwhelmingly male manufacturing jobs (just 29% as of this year according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics).
Today, Trumpism provides the cover for the unappealing elements of postliberalism. For those libertarian voters who see a 10% global tariff and reel, Trump’s ideological flexibility allows voters to presume that he simply will not enact the policies any individual does not like. This effect creates a great deal of cognitive dissonance, featured prominently in questions about abortion in the recent debate. When Trump refused to commit to signing a federal abortion ban, single-issue abortion voters assure themselves that he is just pretending not to for political gain.
However, cults of personality cannot replace substantive political platforms. If Trump defeats Kamala Harris this November, Republicans can hang their hat on him for 4 more years. Whether the postliberals will be vindicated will depend on how much of their agenda (largely contained in Project 2025) Trump implements and how voters respond.
If Trump loses, however, Republicans will face a moment of reckoning—at least the ones that admit he lost. That this is even a caveat indicates the scope of the divide in the party. I am sure that many “MAGA” Republicans will acquiesce to Trump inevitably contesting the election, but it is unclear whether the same is true for the party leadership. At the same time, it is worth considering how much of the institution of the Republican party has been reshaped in Trump’s image. Lara Trump, his daughter-in-law, was the Republican National Committee co-chair, and Trump’s Campaign Manager Chris LaCivita was its COO. Trump’s favorites rise to the top of the party, while his enemies are expelled as in the ousting of Liz Cheney from Congressional leadership.
Part of the appeal of Trumpism is its winning-ness, a narrative that could be preserved past 2020 through election denial. But, we also need to look at the resounding defeat of Trump-backed candidates in the 2018 midterms, 2020 general election, and 2023 special elections, as well as the “red wave” that never came in 2022. Another defeat in 2024 on top of these data points might be too much to stomach for the Republican Party to continue investing in Trumpism as a political strategy.
Likewise, a failure would reveal the postliberals as “too weird” for the average voter. Between their opposition to abortion, which runs counter to almost two-thirds of Americans according to Gallup, and their fervent support for authoritarianism, even many Republicans are not on board. A return to fusionism seems unlikely, as it crumbled underneath the push from traditionalists to use the state proactively to serve their cultural ends and is incompatible with much of the new populist rhetoric that seems like it is here to stay.
So, where do Republicans go? I certainly don’t know, but this is a question those on the Right need to start asking themselves regardless of what happens in November. Even if Trump is defeated, it seems that some elements of Trumpism like isolationism and focus on culture war issues will remain in whatever the Republican party looks like. Neither of these are policies, however. The search for a real platform will continue, and there are no easy answers.
Evan Alexis ‘25 studies in the College of Arts & Sciences. He can be reached at evanalexis@wustl.edu.