Right Hand of Abraham Lincoln (1860) | Leonard Wells Volk / The Met Open Access
Reflecting on Abraham Lincoln in 1894, the American orator and lawyer Robert Green Ingersoll observed that “nothing discloses real character like the use of power. It is easy for the weak to be gentle. Most people can bear adversity. But if you wish to know what a man really is, give him power. This is the supreme test.”
A leader with power, Ingersoll argued, will reveal if they are an architect of justice—or a self-serving opportunist, wielding authority to secure their own narrow ends.
In the case of Donald Trump 2.0, the verdict is already in.
Leadership in a properly functioning modern republic entails two core functions: agenda-setting and norm-affirming. A leader sets the political agenda by prioritizing policies, directing public attention, and proposing initiatives that might be taken up by Congress. Simultaneously, they affirm norms by upholding values and principles that sustain a shared democratic culture, such as fairness, equality, and accountability.
These two roles are not always harmonious; agenda-setting can violate or erode norms. John Adams’s infamous Alien and Sedition Acts of 1798 are regularly viewed as undermining freedom of speech and the press. Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s Executive Order 9066 in 1942, which authorized the internment of Japanese Americans, is rightly viewed today as a violation of due process and constitutional protection against arbitrary use of governmental power.
Yet when wielded responsibly, leadership can also set an example that strengthens democratic commitments and fosters public accountability. This often requires confronting historical truths about where we as a people in the past have fallen short of realizing our deepest political aspirations, as codified in the Declaration of Independence and its assertion that “all men are created equal”—one of Abraham Lincoln’s touchstones in the midst of the Civil War.
President Trump’s recent orders against Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) programs exemplify an unsettling use of power that not only ignores but actively seeks to sabotage the hard-fought efforts of generations who have struggled to make the nation’s promise of equality a lived reality, rather than an empty ideal.
In the postwar period, executive orders were instruments for presidents to reinforce democratic norms by addressing persistent inequities. From Lyndon Johnson’s orders to expand workplace protections for marginalized groups to Barack Obama’s initiatives promoting diversity in the federal workforce, many of these orders have communicated an ethos of inclusivity. They have recognized the interplay between governmental authority and the moral imperatives of democracy. In essence, they have sent a message to the federal government specifically and to the republic more generally of the kind of political character the president imagines for the nation.
In stark contrast, one of Trump’s executive orders directly undercuts the Equal Employment Opportunity Act of 1972, which expanded protections against workplace discrimination rooted in “race, color, sex, national origin, and religion.” While that act cannot be repealed by executive order, Trump’s explicit hostility toward DEI reveals a self-serving opportunist, rather than a statesman interested in justice.
At its best, the leadership of a government that honors the claim that “all men are created equal” places citizens in an eye-opening relationship with their history, fostering critical engagement with the past to inform collective judgment.
Trump’s approach does the opposite: It narrows the horizon of understanding, fostering a willful ignorance that permits the perpetuation of existing inequities.
The implications are profound. Under the guise of promoting “merit-based opportunity,” Trump legitimizes a rhetoric that treats efforts to address and limit inequality as divisive and an assault on freedom. By eroding the values of inclusivity and fairness, this rhetoric cultivates instead an exclusionary ethos, one deliberately designed to undermine the idea that all citizens possess equal moral worth and deserve equal opportunities to participate in public life.
Ingersoll’s insight about power as a test of character resonates powerfully in this context. Those committed to creating a more inclusive and democratic republic of equals must contest Trump’s policies and rhetoric. Donald Trump is not merely interested in destroying large parts of America’s modern administrative state; he is concerned with reshaping the culture and the collective mores from which policy, law, and institutions spring.
Editorial note: Public Seminar has made minor changes to wording following publication of this article. We apologize for the inconvenience.
