This piece originally appeared in Rawstory.
This column grimly spent a spring predicting a dark summer of possible chaos and violence, an administration on the move, power grabs at every turn, one preparing for an unpredictable but authoritarian fall season. We would endure a lot of hot weather, late nights, some dangerous dynamics, and Kalshi had odds at 40% that Portland would be ashes by June 15th. This worry followed protests in Minnesota, the fear of troops coming to Chicago, and everything you surely remember. Well, the heat came to the East Coast. But nothing else, not yet.
Indeed, so far, if one had to pick a theme or feel for what’s happening, it would be a catchy viral meme about what’s not happening. “The summer that wasn’t.”
We are passing through the nation’s 250th birthday, the biggest annual summer holiday, made infinitely bigger by the incredible number, and yet it looks like it’ll go by largely unnoticed, except for skipping work on Friday, maybe hearing some booms late at night Saturday. One would have expected baited anticipation, pride, and massive celebrations planned everywhere, or at least that would have been the expectation back ten years ago, “normal America.”
I went to a big gathering in my city’s central park to watch the U.S. play in the World Cup on big screens with a big crowd – nice weather. Yes, people supported the American team, but not with the passion, anticipation, or hypertension otherwise expected. Everyone’s support seemed a bit muted, as if we weren’t sure “which” America this team represented. They wore white, not red or blue. If one said, “It’s actually the whole country’s team,” most would reply, “Right. But, again, which country?”
Everyone knows the cause.
Instead of a celebration of the good that this country has done in its years (while acknowledging the horrific), as per usual, the President of the United States made the entire thing, everything official, at least, not about America but about him. Yes, of course, your city park will still have the earnest city band or orchestra playing in the evening and then fireworks, hot dogs will sound good for one afternoon, but the tone is set by the institutions functioning as the nation’s cerebellum, the White House, Capitol Hill, the SCOTUS, the Mall; Trump took it all over and made it a MAGA rally. About him.
Well that will blow a tire for the 60% of the nation that is exhausted by this man, consumed with disdain, and fury. Interestingly, though, there’s some evidence that even Trump supporters don’t like having the Fourth of July a personal celebration of Donald Trump, as if they, too, have actually found a line in the sand upon which even they won’t cross. He cannot take over everything. Kinda like if he named every NFL team “Trump,” like the Buffalo Trump, the Dallas Trump, Seattle Trump, all of them. That would be too far, guaranteed; perhaps this is, too.
No, no one is fooled. He damn sure can try to take over elections, has taken over the Department of Justice, the military, and planted his face on banners in a Stalinesque way throughout Washington. He can take over most things, and most of those things are the really important ones, as opposed to the “Great National State Fair” that invisibly passed us by and the big celebration planned for the actual Fourth of July – a rally, about him, always, his greatness, a nation relegated as nothing but a stage.
Is it possible that even MAGAs never wanted at least this part?
There are other factors. Yes, there is the heat. Yes, you better believe gas prices play a role. Lots more. And yet the number of artists who checked out after hearing the agenda, the lagging ticket requests before the weather report, the bizarre claw of the UFC fight on the White House lawn, a “Fair” no one asked for, and the fact that Washington is empty, all point to something deeper. Kind of like the U.S. soccer team, it’s possible everyone agreed we’d have official “Safe Spots,” areas relied on to rest from politics – a “timeout.” Is it possible that people from the furthest left, to the most extreme 15% of MAGA muckers, all just want to eat a cheeseburger in a backyard, enjoy a day off, maybe even read in the AC? Sick of it all? Not sure which America we’re celebrating, only knowing it’s not Donald Trump personally?
Well, something is happening because nothing is happening!
It appears that our kids are out of school, mine seems to be home a lot – which normally indicates something “summery.” That weirdly fascinating soccer stuff is on television, and we get to see some kinda cool costumes and customs from around the world. Hollywood released a handful of massive budget movies. Most people have Friday off. There is some evidence that it’s summer’s big holiday and a lot saying it’s not supposed to be like this.
All of this might be an important development; it is possible it is an important element, and it’s certainly better than an extreme alternative. But there’s also the chance that we’re seeing a delay of the dangers to which this column previously pointed? Is this the silence before the storm? Do we all just demand a Fourth of F’ing July, especially a 250th (!) without it being centered on “Donald J. Trump,” want to be on our best behavior while hosting the world, and only afterwards will we then threaten 250 years by trying to rip the politically beating hearts out of one another toward Labor Day?
And does Trump have plans for late summer? September? Kids back in school, no World Cup, vacations over, working again, drifting into Fall, and then lowers the hammer? The speculation might sound paranoid were it not so damned warranted, given recent history and the stakes at play. Democrats are about to win back control of a critical branch of government. Nothing in Trump’s past indicates he’ll stand by, sufficiently medicated to just let it happen, and then just move on.
Maybe it makes sense that summer is passing us by wholly unnoticed. Everyone is too tired and terrified of pointing to a flag, whether over the Mall or on a soccer uniform, and saying, “Let’s go USA.” That just confuses everyone. “Which one?” or “It’s under repair, road work” (Now that is a sign of summer), both sound legitimate.
But so does “STFU and don’t say anything! Don’t light a fuse!”
Don’t know. You don’t know. No one knows, and that’s the point. Even Trump, who certainly knows what he might plan for later, sure didn’t know he’d be mostly ignored. All anybody knows is that it’s 95 degrees and it’s not supposed to snow Saturday – must be summer, the summer that wasn’t.
And wow, for the love of God, one would’ve thought this would be huge, just ten years ago. The 250th? World Cup? What could possibly have happened in one decade?
What happened is the biggest threat to that nation since 1861 – and that 1861 Fourth of July passed rather muted, too – the nation had been at war for three months, and the first battle just down the road from Washington was three weeks away. At least the country had its greatest president during such a dangerous time. We’re going through it with a less predictable, less educated, and less narcissistic Jefferson Davis as president of both sides.
Our cannons are quiet for now. Maybe that’s why summer silently slips by unnoticed – we’re terrified of the alternative.
Jason Miciak is a Rawstory Columnist, former Editor of Occupied Democrats, political consultant, author, attorney, and single parent girldad. Please follow on Bluesky, and he can be reached at [email protected]. He does read, appreciate, and learn from the comments.
