MAGA is not a Cult, It’s a Fan Base

On How to Better Relate to Your Personal MAGA

I have been shaking my head since 2016, like a lot of folks. How can people vote for this guy? It makes no logical sense. Then in 2021, how could otherwise sensible folks storm the nation’s capitol with no apparent regard for their own safety or sense of fear of legal recourse? In 2024? No way. The truck flags, the anti-Biden fervor, the fawning, the T-shirts, the rallies upon rallies attended by those who become recognizable for their outfits (the Brick Wall Guy?). For a while now a lot of folks make off handed references to MAGA as “a cult.” I was always thinking, ‘Well, you’re not wrong.’ By all appearances, it seems to be one.

Somehow there is a sense of Kool-Aid being drunk — the guy is even orange — reckless abandon of the self, focus on The Leader, but then I realized something that seems obvious. The hats, the slogans, the dancing, the joy at Trump’s activities and statements, the bemused snark at anyone with “TDS,” the vaunted Trump Derangement Syndrome. MAGA is a fan base, not a cult. If you’re a fan of anyone or anything, from Taylor Swift, to Denzel Washigton, the Crimson Tide or the McRib, you’ll be able to relate. Your MAGA relatives are not in a cult, they are “stans.” To put a fine point on it, you can convince people to leave a cult. You cannot convince someone that their idol sucks. The word ‘fan’ is short for fanatic. They’re simply fanatics. They have imprinted Trump on their value system of life. That is unlikely to change.

This aligns with the social media takeover of our culture, where fame has become something broader, less focused on talent and more on what’s “hot.” Right around the COVID shutdown, the internet blew up with young people achieving fame for no apparent reason. As if talent became retrograde as a prerequisite for that most elusive and valuable of human desire: fame. That trend has metasticized to the point of saturation. But a cult leader is not famous. A cult leader doesn’t sing and dance. Does not have big rallies, does not sell ‘merch’ and fragrances and crypto and put their names on buildings. He doesn’t have hats and meme coins. But a rock star does. And Trump is a political rock star.

This is a type of fame that we understand as belonging to actors,comedians, influencers, Hype House members. Trump and his MAGA folks are plainly in that category. The White House has become a “Hype House.” Pete Hegseth, Kash Patel, Pam Bondi, Kristi Noem are the regulars, and every now and then, satellite guest appearance personalities like Lara Loomer come in to stir the pot on the reality show that is Trump’s World. Every now and then a trip to Mar-a-Lago on the jet and golf and hijinks. It’s a reality show, sure, but based on good old American fame, not blind devotion. Trump performs at rallies which are nothing so much as rock concerts. His devotees are simply fans, or ‘stans.’ His “base” is nothing more nor less than a fan base.

MAGA is a fan base maintaining their virtuous love for their star. A pure devotion. If you have a Swiftie in your life, say something derogatory about Taylor Swift. See if they seem to consider your opinion. They will simply nod silently and then doubt your opinion about anything for the rest of all time. They will not try to convince you of what you are ignorant about. They will not say, “well if you would just come to one of our shows, you might begin to see the light.” Speak ill of Trump in a mixed crowd and the MAGA will simply bow their head for a moment and let it drop. They will not try to get you to join the group. Cults are always looking for more members. Not MAGA.

Either you get it or you don’t. It is already crowded enough as it is. The lines are already long enough. It’s already hard enough to get a ticket and who needs a Johnny-Come-Lately anyway? You’ll have no memories worth sharing. You weren’t there in 2016, you sure as hell weren’t there in 2020. You weren’t there in the beginning so how could you ever truly understand?

The Trump rallies are arena shows with opening acts all leading up to the headliner. Who cares what he’s saying? Just listen and experience it.

“He’s doing ‘The Weave.’ Look there’s Dana White! Oh shit, Kid Rock! Fuck dude, this is going to be one for the books. I have his speech from Des Moines in ’18. We watch it all the time. That was the one where he made fun of the retard reporter. So epic! We were like mid-way back, on the floor. Waited like 6 hours to get in. I still have the T-shirt. We chanted ‘Fuck Biden’ for like ten minutes straight.”

It’s a little rock and roll, a little WWE, a whole lot of online engagement and a massive amount of purposeful confusion. A message that cannot be understood except by the devoted. A performer takes the immutable, the confusing, the mish mosh of emotion and turmoil and puts it in context, puts an order to the disorder. Gives a voice to the voiceless, power to the powerless. Elvis showed us what to do with all this Black music bubbling up around our loins. Dylan wrote the poetry of the Angry Young People. The Grateful Dead played for camaraderie and union, identity and belonging. Jimmy Buffet let us know it was OK to have fun again, even after we got money and bank accounts. Trump has shattered the pretense of politics. Has ripped down the facades. He’s the opposite of a cult leader, he’s a pop star.

Arnold Schwarzenegger became the California Governor in 2003 and was a producer on The Apprentice which debuted in 2004. Trump saw up close how celebrity could turn into political power, something he had flirted with for a long time. Also, that right wing images of power could be leveraged for the base. “Ah-nold” had “I’ll be back.” Trump rose to fame saying “You’re fired.” It became his catch phrase, his raison d’etre. His gimmick. He’d fire the entire government. There are a lot of people interested in that.

The true run for the Presidency began the night of the 2011 Correspondents Dinner where Obama roasted Trump for his birtherisms and his lame attempts at being relevant, famous. He was even then, still a small man with a big ego sitting in a large hall where people were laughing at him. He was the butt of the jokes laid out with perfect timing by the President of the United States. Proto-MAGA felt his pain, saw the elitist snark, the pompous intellectual rejection of their guy. The Birther, the Truther, the Boss. The guy who points a finger and says, “You’re fired!” The fan base was born.

The Trump we see now is the seasoned rally leader, the superstar with his own airplane and opening acts. His own act has been honed to a set that the faithful can’t get enough of. He’s the Grateful Dead of politics. But he does comedy routines and plays music and dances and lets the ladies gyrate and cheer and they look like they are having a ball. The one thing Americans know is show biz. We know who’s hot and who’s not. Then came the rally in Butler, PA. The gunshots. The bloody ear. The ‘I was there’ political MAGA Woodstock of thousands. Epic. Legendary.

What we know is that politics ain’t politics anymore. If it ever was. It’s plainly entertainment. It’s The Show. MSNBC, CNN, Fox, hell, even Comedy Central have shown us that. Politics and the elections never end. Ever. And for now, Trump is the superstar, the leading act of the genre.

You can call the MAGA folks a cult and they will laugh. You can tell them Trump sucks, that he’s the worst president possible and a disaster for America and they will stop smiling and shun you. They are Swifties, the BeyHive, the BTS Army. They are a part of the Steeler Nation or have an LSU Tiger tattoo or a Yankees jersey. They are, in a way, more than a cult, they are fans. They don’t care what you think.

Ladies and Gentlemen…Presenting.