* * *
Why did the President of the most stable, ef-
fective, and long lived constitutional democracy in
the history of the world choose such a figure as
Steven Bannon as his Virgil, his Sancho Panza, his
sidekick, his “Chief Strategist”? As the string of
awkward blunders and downright failures mar-
king Trump’s first six months demonstrates, one
should not look for an explanation to Bannon’s
political skills. Trump chose
Bannon, rather, because Bran-
non’s velvet glove fits so snugly
around Trump’s iron fist. Ban-
non-ideology is the water in
which Trump swims, in which
he has always swum, without
knowing he was in the sea.
Bannon crystallizes Trump’s
inchoate but raging outsider
feelings, completes his half-formed ideas, raises to
college level his fifth-grade syntax.
Understanding Bannon-ideology allows us to
comprehend, not Trump the person, but the poli-
tical actor. To journalists and politicians, Trump’s
performances appear impulsive, pragmatic, and
banal. If we read these performances against the
background of Bannon’s ideological scripting, they
seem coherent; they have a compelling sense
about them, in a radical, alt-right way. We see
Trump acting and speaking, but it has, more often
than not, been Bannon’s words we actually hear;
it’s he who has set the scene. “As far as political
reality goes,” a Politico critic observed in the
weeks following Trump’s election, “it’s Bannon’s
movie, we’re in it, and the opening credits have
just started to roll.”
Bannon has been a performance-enhancing
drug. The secret of his power over Trump, and
over some large swath of the American people, has
been his mythopoeic abilities, writing the script,
setting the stage, finding the actors, and directing
the mis-en-scene so effectively that anti-democra-
tic ideas seem for many sensible and sometimes
even inspiring, while democratic ideas appear ir-
rational and profane. Bannon once called Trump a
flawed vessel, but into that striving, overheated
human container Bannon has poured a magical
potion, a fearsome brew.
Bannon is a mythologist. He scripted and pro-
duced a new and pernicious political movie, which
he continues to direct. Donald Trump plays the
heroic protagonist, and Hillary Clinton, Barack
Obama, Democrats, and Enlightenment ideas play
the dark Beast that the barking, bleached blond
populist President has entered the arena to slay.
Bannon once confided to Variety that he had a
“kinetic editing style that seeks to overwhelm au-
diences.” In the months that led up to Trump’s
election, the greater part of America’s citizen-au-
dience were subdued and some offered Bannon’s
production a standing ovation. In the months after
the election, some of these same viewers have be-
come restless in their seats, and some are getting
up to leave. The left, meanwhile, is creating coun-
ter-performances, writing new plots and casting
around for new heroes.
Democracy is sustained by a discourse that
celebrates autonomy, rationa-
lity, and moral equality, and
by independent institutions
that encourage skepticism,
participation, and free expres-
sion. Trump, as made visible by
Bannon, wants to convince us
that universalistic discourse is
outmoded and independent in-
stitutions dysfunctional. He
spouts Bannon’s othering binaries, and he attacks
core democratic institutions: journalism is fake,
public opinion polls fixed, courts biased, voting is
not dispositive, office not binding. The aim of
Trump and Bannon is deceptive, for they are par-
ticipating in a political process that democracy has
constructed. When we reconstruct Bannon-ideo-
logy, however, the truth comes out. They are parti-
cipating in democracy in order to destroy it.
But nobody can predict performative success.
The best funded shows, with accomplished actors,
crash on opening night. Unknown plays, perfor-
med in obscure venues with untried actors, beco-
me dark horse hits.
“I am Thomas Cromwell in the court of the
Tudors,” Bannon once remarked. Cromwell was a
clever and far-sighted political man. Still, he en-
ded up dead, hung out to dry, and die, by the very
King he had so slyly and violently served. Three
months ago, this was widely thought to be Ban-
non’s fate. “Dead strategist walking” is what New
York Times’ Op-Ed writer Frank Bruni called him,
in a column headlined “Steven Bannon Was Doo-
med.” But the announcements of Bannon’s death
have been greatly exaggerated. The “cosmopoli-
tan” team led by GQ-esque son-in-law Jared Ku-
shner has fallen on hard times, performing in the
failed Russian version of “Let’s Make a Deal.”
Meanwhile, Trump’s withdrawal from the climate
accord, his persistence with the Muslim ban, his
“decline of Western civilization” Poland speech –
these efforts promoting particularism over univer-
salism, in the guise of protecting national soverei-
gnty, have Bannon’s fingerprints all over them.
Can Trump the Scarecrow afford to live without
his brain?