Hindsight is indeed 2020 – or rather, 2024!
In the realm of political what-ifs, the idea of Tim Walz standing against Donald Trump instead of Kamala Harris would perhaps have propelled the Democrats to winning the just-concluded US Presidential elections.
Alas, this was not to be, and – we have what we have, a Trump victory!
Minnesota Governor Tim Walz is a figure who, in many ways, seems tailor-made to take on Trump in a way that Harris – despite her credentials and profile – struggled to do.
Imagine the scenario: Instead of a vice-president whose appeal often feels confined to a narrow demographic, we have a down-to-earth, pragmatic Midwesterner with a blue-collar sensibility that could have resonated deeply with the swing voters who swung the 2016 and 2020 elections.
Tim Walz, Harris’ running-mate, is a man of the people, with a military background, a history of bipartisanship, and a genuine, unpolished authenticity that feels real in a world of increasingly manufactured political personas.
Where Harris, with her Ivy League credentials and polished, at times distant, persona, has sometimes come across as a symbol of elite, coastal liberalism, Walz had framed himself as a common-sense antidote. His approach stood in contrast to the chaos and divisiveness of Trump’s brand.
His unassuming manner, paired with a record of tackling real issues – like healthcare and education – could have positioned him as a bridge between the frustrated middle, and the progressive base.
More importantly, Walz’s appeal in key battleground states like Wisconsin, Michigan, and Pennsylvania – where Trump’s populist appeal worked wonders – might have been the key to flipping those states back into the blue column.
It’s not just that Walz might have had a better chance against Trump; it’s that he would have represented a path forward for Democrats that felt more grounded in reality, less tied to the symbolism of identity politics, and more in touch with the economic anxieties that continue to plague the heartland.
In a battle against Trump, Walz could have been the kind of counter-puncher who not only survived the Trump brand of politics, but thrived in the same spaces where Trump’s appeal remains stubbornly strong.
So, the unimaginable has happened. Trump, the improbable, the unprecedented, the man no one thought could rise again after the bruising defeat of 2020, is back.
This is not just a political victory – it’s a moment that challenges the very fabric of our assumptions about American democracy, about power, about what it means to win in an era where truth is often stranger than fiction. Trump’s victory is not only a triumph of a man but of an idea, a movement that many thought had burned itself out, gone the way of past populist tides. But now, in the aftermath of this stunning turn of events, the question shifts from “How did this happen?” to “What happens next?”
For his detractors, the stakes have just been raised. These are people who, for years, have ridiculed him, dismissed his rise as a fluke, or worse, a passing nightmare.
For many, Trump was seen as a brief interruption in the flow of history, a man who could be easily contained, whose brand of politics could never withstand the rigorous scrutiny of a second presidential run.
And yet, here we are. His victory is not just a personal triumph but an existential threat to a whole class of political elites and self-appointed gatekeepers of virtue. Because what they failed to grasp, what they underestimated, is that Trump’s power is not just about him – it’s about what he represents.
It’s about the deep undercurrents of disillusionment, resentment, and fear that have been simmering beneath the surface of American society for decades, and that the so-called “woke” cultural elite still refuses to acknowledge.
Now, these detractors – be they liberals, progressives, establishment Republicans, or even moderates – are forced to confront a reality they never thought they would face again.
It is no longer a matter of whether Trump is “fit” for office, whether his rhetoric is dangerous, or his policies regressive. The question now is much deeper and more unsettling: Can they stop him? Can they rally the forces of opposition, both within and outside the system, to undo a victory that has shaken the very pillars of their power?
And if they can’t – what does that say about the state of the nation, about the fragility of the democratic system they’ve so fervently defended?
In many ways, Trump’s victory represents not only the defeat of his critics but the irrelevance of the conventional political establishment.
The media, the think tanks, the pundit class, and even the so-called “liberal consensus” have all been exposed as brittle, susceptible to the tides of change they thought they could control.
For his opponents, it is not just their reputations at stake; it is the survival of their vision of America. If they thought that the “Trump phenomenon” was just a fleeting, loud disturbance in the system, they were wrong. Now, they have to reckon with the very real possibility that the forces of disruption Trump embodies are not going anywhere.
The real fear for his critics is that his success wasn’t a fluke – it was a blueprint. And if Trump can do it, what’s stopping others from following his path, with new ideas, new tactics, and even more unconventional strategies? What if this isn’t the last time they face a Trump, but the first of many? The unimaginable has happened, but it’s far from over.
The question now is: Who else is watching, and what happens when the unimaginable becomes the inevitable?
The views expressed here are the personal opinion of the writer’s and do not necessarily represent that of Twentytwo13.
