What the First 100 Days Taught Us About Resisting Trump
For
starters, it’s better to push back than to appease.
May 01, 2025
FOR
ANYONE WHO WANTS to oppose the Trump administration and the damage it has been
doing—from reckless firings and cuts, to a lawless deportation regime, to
democratic backsliding toward authoritarianism—the first hundred days of this
second term have shown that there is a strategy worth pursuing, one familiar to
underdogs the world over: Push the aggressor beyond their limits.
The
Trump administration seems immensely powerful, controlling the executive branch
and backed by a servile congressional majority. But its capabilities are
finite, and less extensive than they appear. For the administration, pretending
to have more power and energy than it actually does is part of the trick, an
attempt to get people to do Trump’s bidding without a fight.
Hurting
immigrants and foreign students, establishing that due process can be violated
and court orders be ignored, defunding and trying to take over universities,
silencing and chilling speech, resegregating the government—these are their
top priorities. And apparently no amount of convincing, including even a sharp
downward slide in Trump’s popularity, can dissuade them.
But
the administration can be delayed, spread thin, confused, frustrated,
overwhelmed. The more they stall out, the fewer people they hurt, and the less
appealing they look to all but the most cultish supporters.
They
have limited time and attention.
They
have limited control over the executive branch, and with Elon Musk’s DOGE are
destroying significant government capacity.
They
have limited resources and personnel. Yes, they have awful people in key
positions, but they don’t yet have loyalists all the way up and down the
Department of Justice, the FBI, the military, or the intelligence services.
They’re having difficulty finding lawyers willing to argue absurdities in court.
Smarter
authoritarians would have coasted on the positive economic trends they
inherited, gradually purging the government of law-followers and installing
loyalists. The Trump team started smashing things and bullying in many
directions as soon as they got power.
And in
the first hundred days we’ve seen that the way to exploit these weaknesses is
to meet them head on in as many places as possible. Peacefully, nonviolently,
get in their way. Fight them in court. And a lot can be accomplished with one
simple trick: When met with an unreasonable, unethical government demand, say no.
Columbia
University didn’t do that, attempting appeasement instead. The Trump
administration accused the university of an insufficient response to
“antisemitism” and canceled $400 million of federal funding for research via
NIH and other agencies. Those cuts are arguably illegal, but rather than sue to
restore them, Columbia agreed to Trump
administration demands, such as placing the “Middle East,
South Asian, and African Studies department under academic receivership,” and
giving the government a degree of oversight over admissions. Nevertheless, as
of late April, the federal funding for medical research, climate research, and
other projects at Columbia are still canceled.
Giving
the bully your lunch money doesn’t make him leave you alone. It shows him
you’re an easy mark, and encourages him to come back for more.
By
contrast, witness what happened when Trump came for Harvard. The government cut federal
funding and sent a threatening letter, effectively demanding
political commissars overseeing hiring, admissions, and classes. The school
responded with a letter of its own, saying, “The university
will not surrender its independence or relinquish its constitutional rights”
and cannot “agree to demands that go beyond the lawful authority of this or any
administration.” Harvard sued the government, arguing that the cuts were
unlawful. In response, the Trump administration announced an investigation by the
Departments of Education and Health and Human Services into what they say are
Harvard’s violations of Title VI of the Civil Rights Act for “engaging in
race-based discrimination.”
Columbia
gave away some independence and integrity and still lost federal funding.
That’s because the government attack on universities is ideological, part of an
effort to crush or co-opt any societal institution that can authoritatively
counter their lies.
As
history teaches, appeasing fascists does not work.
Harvard
standing up to Trump’s bullying is significant because it’s the oldest, most
prestigious university in the United States and others follow its example. It
has the largest endowment, over $50 billion, and received a surge of donations after challenging
Trump. Its alumni hold influential positions in government, law, finance,
business, media—nearly every powerful part of society. Of all higher education
institutions, it’s in the best position to weather Trump’s attacks, and to tie
up regime resources in the process.
The
Trump administration sent threatening letters to sixty universities, but followed through just
on Columbia and Harvard. That highlights their limitations, underlining that
they’d prefer to squeeze universities one by one, or ideally get a big symbolic
victory and see the rest voluntarily fall in line. To counter that, higher
education institutions should seek strength in solidarity, like the Big Ten
universities that have formed a “Mutual Defense Compact,” pooling legal and
financial resources to defend any member from government pressure.
Billions
of dollars in canceled federal grants will have lasting damage on higher
education in America. The government won’t reverse the cuts, because the White
House’s goal is damage. And if litigation manages to reverse any, it will be a
fraction, and will take time. But it’s worth remembering that blocking research
funding was one of the biggest cards the authoritarians had. They can’t
play it a second time.
And
the attack isn’t popular. In the April 2025 New York Times/Siena poll, 49 percent strongly oppose “the
Trump administration withholding federal funds from certain universities,” more
than double the 23 percent that “strongly” support it, and bigger than
“strongly” support and “somewhat” support combined. As the economic damage of
the cuts starts to hit and ripple out, that will likely grow.
ON THE
IMMIGRATION FRONT, the Trump regime escalated again in the last week, in at
least two ways. In one incident, ICE sent a 2-year-old U.S. citizen to Honduras
with, as federal judge Terry Doughty determined,
“no meaningful process.” In another, the FBI arrested a Wisconsin judge, Hannah
Dugan, accusing her of obstruction of justice for supposedly interfering when
ICE tried to arrest a man leaving her courtroom.
These
are both serious, concerning, authoritarian actions that highlight America’s
backslide away from rule-of-law democracy. But they also show that the regime
is running into resistance.
The
charges against Judge Dugan are flimsy and probably won’t go anywhere in court. While the
experience will still be burdensome for Dugan, she is in a better position than
most to mount a legal defense.
Another
Wisconsin judge, Monica Isham, emailed her fellow judges,
noting that Judge Dugan was arrested and charged because she honored her
constitutional oath to provide due process. Judge Isham vowed to honor her oath
as well, and wrote that, without official guidance and support on this matter,
she won’t hold court. “If this costs me my job or gets me arrested,” Isham
concluded, “at least I know I did the right thing.”
Arresting
judges like this will likely galvanize more of the legal profession, snapping
them out of complacency. This isn’t just their own power, but the entire reason
their job exists. The rule of law itself is under attack.
Some
conservative lawyers and judges are ready to scrap conservative legal
principles and advance a lawless authoritarianism—but not that many. One of the
lawyers on Judge Dugan’s defense team is Paul Clement, who served as solicitor general
under President George W. Bush. Judge Doughty, who rebuked the White House for
refusing even basic due process, was appointed by Trump in 2017. And as Trump
keeps trying to abuse the legal system, the number who act like Clement and
Doughty will likely grow.
The
criminals in the White House have made progress against the rule of law,
committing impeachable offenses on an almost daily basis. But they’re far from
absolute power, and the courts have made some difference.
An
emergency court order from Judge James Boasberg about the Alien Enemies Act—the
1798 law to counter invading foreign soldiers that the Trump administration is
absurdly stretching to target nonviolent immigrants—got ICE buses that were on
the way to the airport to turn around. Even the Supreme Court, which
last year made Trump effectively immune from criminal
prosecution, ruled 9–0 that sending Maryland resident
Kilmar Abrego Garcia to a prison in El Salvador violated due process, ordering
the administration to facilitate his return. And in an unusual late-night
emergency order, the justices ruled 7–2 that the government cannot deport
people under the Alien Enemies Act without due process.
The
Trump administration will blatantly defy some court orders and not follow
others by pretending they don’t say what they say, but they’re following some.
The confrontation will likely escalate, which has dangerous implications—but a
constitutional clash between the courts and the executive branch is a lot
better than the courts forfeiting the rule of law without a fight. Every case
takes up more of the regime’s limited resources, every success spares people
from suffering, and the process costs Trump more of his limited political
capital.
LOST
COURT CASES AND REBUKES FROM JUDGES signal that something is wrong in
a way political rhetoric and social media posts do not. “Judge Arrested” and
“Government Violates Due Process” and especially “Trump Defies Court Order” get
media attention and public discussion. Polls show declining approval, both in
general and on immigration specifically, which has long
been Trump’s strongest issue.
Now
he’s below 50 percent approval on immigration, losing support amid court
losses, and political actions such as Sen. Chris van Hollen (D-Md.) going to El
Salvador, getting a meeting with Abrego Garcia, and succeeding in having him
moved to a lower-security facility. Some polls have Trump’s overall approval
rating down around 40 percent, the lowest in the last eighty years for a
president within the first hundred days. And that’s before the effects of the
actions taken during these first hundred days—like the economic problems caused
by Trump’s tariffs and DOGE’s mass firings—start to be really felt.
These
polls aren’t just numbers for politicians and media to discuss, they represent
millions of opinions. It’s an inexact gauge, of course, but a sizable,
multi-month drop like this indicates a change throughout society. Call it a
vibe shift, one more connected to reality than the sweeping Trumpist vibe shift proclaimed
in the aftermath of last year’s election.
It
means more people in more conversations, online and in-person, saying they
don’t like what’s going on, and more feeling comfortable to act in opposition.
It
means larger protests.
It
means more of the Trump voters who bought into his economic pitch realizing
they were had.
It
means businesses that have to raise prices telling their customers the cause.
It
means more law firms, universities, and other civil society institutions Trump
bullies saying no instead of attempting appeasement.
It
means more politicians rediscovering their spines and ambition֫—seeing more
political opportunity in opposition than acquiescence.
And
all of that means more strain on the regime’s formidable, dangerous, but
ultimately limited resources, and more cracks in the image they work so hard to
project. If enough Americans resist illegal, immoral, anti-American actions in ways big and
small throughout the country, the authoritarian efforts falter. The regime
might react drastically, desperately, even violently.
But in
the end, that’s how they break.
