On July 4, 1776, the American colonists issued the Declaration of Independence, a defiant rejection of King George III’s arbitrary rule and a bold assertion that governments derive legitimacy from the consent of the governed. This revolutionary document articulated a vision of liberty that inspired generations. Yet, it was riddled with contradictions, crafted by an elite cadre of white, male, property-owning slaveholders who upheld racial supremacy, patriarchal exclusion, and a political system favouring propertied interests. But as the US marks the 250th anniversary of this founding moment, a profound irony emerges. The ‘No Kings’ movement, a grassroots uprising against Donald Trump’s authoritarian ascent, invokes the spirit of 1776 to defend democracy while deliberately rejecting its oppressive baggage. Through a Gramscian lens, this movement represents a counter-hegemonic struggle, selectively reclaiming the progressive democratic elements of 1776 to challenge Trump’s monarchical ambitions and forge a more inclusive democratic ‘common sense.’ Here, we explore the movement’s nuanced reclamation of 1776, its battle against Trump’s hegemonic project, and the challenges and possibilities it faces in reshaping America’s democratic future. Illustration: Pariplab Chakraborty.The contradictions of 1776 and the irony of 2026The Declaration was a radical document for its time, though its authors were no democrats in the modern sense. Slavery persisted, women were excluded, and property qualifications limited political voice. Still, its universalist language provided a moral and political compass that subsequent generations – abolitionists, suffragists, civil rights activists – could wield against power. Over two and a half centuries, the U.S. expanded its influence, usually through conquest and empire, while domestically evolving toward greater inclusion, however unevenly. The New Deal, the Great Society, and post-1960s civil and women’s rights reforms represented progressive, if imperfect, advances rooted in popular pressure against elite resistance.This trajectory has reversed with brutal clarity. The rise of Trumpism – first in 2016, consolidated in the 2024 election – represents not an aberration but the culmination of decades of neoliberal restructuring, elite failure, and cultural backlash. Donald Trump’s second term has accelerated authoritarian tendencies: assaults on democratic norms, concentration of executive power, politicisation of institutions, and a cult of personality that echoes the very ‘kings’ the Founders rejected. From efforts to reshape the judiciary and bureaucracy to inflammatory rhetoric, the administration has deepened divisions.Crucially, this descent was not Trumpism’s nor the Republican party’s alone. The Democratic Party, ostensibly the party of progress, bears significant responsibility. Captured by neoliberal orthodoxy since the Clinton era – financial deregulation, trade deals favouring corporations, endless wars sold as liberal internationalism – Democrats hollowed out the working class base. Their embrace of identity politics without addressing material inequality, coupled with close ties to Wall Street, Silicon Valley, and the national security state, alienated millions. The ‘blob’ of foreign policy elites, think tanks, and foundations we have long critiqued continued to prioritise global hegemony over domestic renewal.Barack Obama’s hope-and-change presidency managed Wall Street’s crisis without fundamental reform, expanded drone warfare, and deported record numbers while inequality soared. Hillary Clinton’s 2016 campaign epitomised elite disconnect. Joe Biden’s administration, despite progressive rhetoric, largely continued neoliberal and interventionist policies, failing to deliver transformative change on wages, healthcare, or climate. This bipartisan consensus – tax cuts for the rich, austerity for the many, perpetual military spending – bred cynicism. When Trump offered a disruptive alternative, however crude, it resonated with those left behind by globalisation and racial-cultural shifts.As we have argued previously, we are in an ‘age of danger’ that features a legitimacy crisis of historic proportions. Trust in institutions – Congress, the presidency, courts, media, corporations – has plummeted. Polarisation has reached levels evoking the 1850s. Economic anxiety persists: stagnant real wages for many, gig economy precarity, housing unaffordability, and opioid deaths in deindustrialised regions. Cultural fractures over race, gender, immigration, and national identity fuel resentment. Trump’s rhetoric of ‘American carnage’ in 2017 proved self-fulfilling in many ways, as his policies exacerbated inequalities while promising restoration.Events like the January 6, 2021 Capitol insurrection (in Trump’s first term) and subsequent erosions of norms have normalised extraordinary measures. In Trump’s second term, authoritarian policies – mass deportations with reported violence, challenges to judicial independence, alignment with illiberal international figures – have intensified fears of democratic backsliding. The 250th anniversary celebrations, heavy on military parades and patriotic spectacle, represent pomp and pageantry masking decay rather than genuine reflection on founding principles.In 2026, the irony is even more stark. As America celebrates the 250th anniversary of its revolutionary birth, it faces a crisis that echoes the monarchical hubris the Founders rejected. Trump’s return to power in 2024, built on a cult of personality, populist rhetoric, and billionaires’ donations, threatens the republic’s democratic experiment. His calls to suspend constitutional checks, vilify the press as ‘enemies of the people,’ defy the courts, declare national emergencies without cause, and punish political opponents evoke the arbitrary rule of a would-be king. In The Legitimacy Crisis of the U.S. Elite and the Rise of Donald Trump (2017), one of the authors argues that Trump’s ascent exploited a profound crisis in the US elite’s legitimacy, stemming from economic inequality, cultural dislocations, and the erosion of trust in traditional institutions. This crisis allowed Trump to position himself as an outsider challenging the entrenched power structures of Wall Street, both major parties, and the foreign policy establishment, thereby normalising authoritarian tendencies under the guise of populism.The No Kings movement, a diffuse coalition of activists, emerges as a counterforce, invoking 1776 not to glorify its flawed legacy but to extract its democratic kernel—the rejection of unchecked power. This selective reclamation is deliberate: No Kings embraces the Declaration’s anti-monarchical thrust while rejecting its complicity in slavery, misogyny, and elitism, aiming to realise a democracy that extends rights to all. In 2026, as Trump’s second term unfolds amid ongoing challenges to electoral integrity, No Kings draws on political experience of Trumpism to frame its resistance not as mere protest but as a necessary response to the systemic enablers of Trumpism. President Donald Trump speaks at Mount Rushmore National Memorial, Friday, July 3, 2026, near Keystone, S.D. Photo: AP.Trump’s hegemony and the counter-hegemonic struggleAntonio Gramsci’s concept of hegemony provides a powerful framework for understanding this struggle. Hegemony refers to the process by which a ruling group secures consent for its dominance by shaping society’s ‘common sense’ – the taken-for-granted norms and values that define political reality. Trump’s and his close elite allies’ political project represents a hegemonic effort to reshape America’s democratic culture into one that normalises authoritarianism. His proprietary language – ‘my people,’ ‘my country,’ ‘my generals’ – and his loyal media ecosystem, cultivate a worldview where loyalty to Trump supersedes democratic norms. His attacks on electoral integrity, judicial independence, and the press aim to erode institutional checks, portraying dissent as betrayal and himself as the embodiment of the ‘real America.’A co-authored article (with Tom Furse), ‘The Trump Administration, the Far-Right and World Politics’ (2023), deepens this analysis by examining how Trump’s regime forged alliances with far-right networks, both domestically and globally, to advance a deconstructive agenda against liberal internationalism. These networks, we argue, extend beyond overt white nationalism to include elite factions disillusioned with globalisation, echoing the legitimacy crisis that fuelled Trump’s initial rise. The Supreme Court, reshaped by Trump’s appointments, and compliant Republican lawmakers further entrench this dominance. Decisions undermining voting rights, expanding executive power, and shielding Trump from legal accountability reflect a judicial and legislative apparatus aligned with his vision. His rhetoric, amplified by a disciplined media machine, constructs a narrative of crisis—immigrants, ‘woke’ ideologies, and globalist elites as existential threats—requiring his strongman rule to restore order. This hegemonic project seeks to normalise a quasi-monarchical ‘common sense’ where Trump’s authority is unquestioned, and democratic institutions are subordinated to his will.The No Kings movement counters this, in effect, with a Gramscian ‘war of position,’ a cultural and ideological battle to redefine America’s democratic ‘common sense.’ Comprising young activists, disillusioned conservatives, progressive organisers, and marginalised communities, No Kings rejects Trump’s kingly pretensions and invokes 1776’s anti-monarchical fervour. Its nationwide protests and its viral presence on social media, reverberate globally and articulate a vision of inclusive democracy. Marchers wield signs quoting the Declaration’s promise of consent-based governance while critiquing its historical failures, demanding a system free from racial, gendered, or class-based subjugation. This is not a nostalgic return to 1776 but a forward-looking effort to transcend its limitations and realise its unfulfilled promise of universal liberty.Embracing 1776’s ideals, rejecting its flaws The No Kings movement’s invocation of 1776 is nuanced and deliberate. It embraces the Declaration’s core democratic principle – the rejection of arbitrary rule – while explicitly distancing itself from the racial hierarchies, patriarchal structures, and elite biases that defined the founding. Activists highlight the founders’ hypocrisy, noting that many, like Jefferson, enslaved people while preaching liberty. At No Kings rallies, speakers often referenced Frederick Douglass’s 1852 speech, ‘What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?’ which exposed the Declaration’s exclusionary reality. By invoking Douglass, the movement underscores its commitment to a democracy that includes those historically denied its benefits – Black and Indigenous communities, women, and the working class. This selective reclamation is evident in the movement’s rhetoric and actions. Protests feature readings of the Declaration alongside critiques of its blind spots, framing Trump as a modern monarch whose authoritarianism betrays even the flawed ideals of 1776. Activists demand a democracy that extends rights to all, not just a privileged few, challenging the founders’ limited vision. For example, No Kings organisers in Atlanta, a city with a deep civil rights history, link their struggle to the legacy of Martin Luther King Jr., emphasising inclusive governance over elite rule. Social media posts under #NoKings2026 juxtaposed quotes from the Declaration with calls for reparations, gender equity, and Indigenous sovereignty, reflecting a vision of democracy that transcends 1776’s moral failures. Earlier work of one of the authors, such as contributions to Barack Obama and the Myth of a Post-Racial America (2013), provides a critical backdrop here, dissecting how elite-driven narratives of progress mask persistent racial and class exclusions – echoes of which No Kings confronts head-on in its anti-Trumpist framework.The war of position: Building a counter-narrativeGramsci’s ‘war of position’ involves a gradual, cultural struggle to shift societal values before seizing political power. No Kings wages this war by building a broad coalition – Black and Indigenous activists, feminists, working-class voters, and moderates – who make a united front and who articulate a democratic vision that counters Trump’s divisive narrative. Unlike Trump’s hegemony, which thrives on exclusion and loyalty to a single leader, No Kings promotes inclusivity and collective empowerment. Its rallies, often multiracial and intergenerational, foster solidarity across divides, from urban campuses to rural communities. This organic, grassroots character aligns with Gramsci’s concept of ‘organic intellectuals’ – leaders emerging from the people, not imposed from above – who articulate a counter-hegemonic vision.The movement’s use of X is particularly effective. This digital activism complements street protests, creating a multi-front war of position that challenges Trump’s narrative at both cultural and ideological levels. One of the authors’ recent commentary in Economic and Political Weekly (2025) highlighting Trump’s desperation and the manufactured China threat extends this analysis globally, showing how Trumpism’s external aggressions – such as anti-China sabre-rattling – serve to consolidate domestic hegemony, a tactic No Kings critiques as a distraction from internal democratic erosion. Activists endure high temperatures to protest against corruption and President Donald Trump at the Capitol in Washington, Tuesday, June 30, 2026. Photo: AP /J. Scott ApplewhiteChallenges and strengths of No Kings Despite its momentum, No Kings faces significant challenges. Its invocation of 1776 risks alienating moderates who view the founding as sacrosanct, potentially narrowing its appeal. Others see its decentralised structure as a weakness against Trump’s disciplined media machine and institutional allies. The movement’s reliance on grassroots energy, while a strength, can lead to fragmentation, with competing priorities among its diverse coalition. For example, some activists prioritise racial justice, while others focus on electoral reform, creating tensions over strategy. More significantly still, No Kings is also closely wedded to the Democratic party which hopes to channel discontent into votes in the mid-term and other elections without offering a radical alternative to Trumpism.History shows that elite-driven systems rarely self-correct without pressure from below. The Progressive Era, New Deal, and Civil Rights’ Movement succeeded because mass mobilisation forced concessions. Today’s elites – in both parties, corporations, foundations, and think tanks – face a choice: adapt toward greater equity and accountability or risk further instability. Foundations that once shaped consent for US power (Ford, Rockefeller, Carnegie) must confront their role in entrenching neoliberal globalisation. The foreign policy establishment’s ‘blob’ must reckon with how its hubris contributed to domestic blowback.A renewed progressive turn requires shifting power relations. This means structural reforms: campaign finance overhaul, curbing ‘dark money’, stronger labour rights, universal healthcare, progressive taxation, demilitarisation of foreign policy, and genuine investment in green transitions that create good jobs. It demands confronting racial and economic justice together, not as competing claims. Mass protest is essential but insufficient; it must build durable organisations, electoral alternatives, and cultural narratives that reclaim the Declaration for the many, not the few.Yet, might these challenges be offset by No Kings’ inclusive character and ideological clarity? Possibly. Its rejection of 1776’s oppressive elements while embracing its democratic ideals resonates across divides, attracting support from unlikely allies, including conservative ‘Never Trumpers’ who see his authoritarianism as a betrayal of republican values. This, more than anything, shows that political polarisation is an elite strategy to divide and rule ordinary working people, while the latter share a wide range of common interests. Across the political spectrum, people want good jobs, education, healthcare, safe communities, governments that actually deliver on promises rather than mobilise the most backward and base instincts in the society.The No Kings movement’s organic intellectuals—activists, artists, and community leaders – amplify its message through creative means, from protest art to viral videos, making it accessible and compelling. Its decentralised nature, while messy, allows it to adapt to local contexts, from urban centres to rural heartlands, broadening its reach. In Foundations of the American Century (2012), one of the authors suggests that counter-hegemonic movements must target not just figureheads (like Trump) but the foundational power structures enabling him and the rest of the establishment.The stakes in 2026 As the US rightly marks its 250th anniversary in 2026, the irony of a nation founded to reject monarchy now battling a would-be king underscores the stakes of No Kings’ struggle. This is not merely a political contest but a cultural and ideological battle to define America’s democratic ‘common sense.’ Trump’s hegemonic project seeks to normalise authoritarianism, portraying his rule as the will of ‘real Americans’ while marginalising dissenters. No Kings counters this by reclaiming 1776’s rejection of arbitrary power and reimagining it for a diverse, inclusive future. The movement’s success will hinge on its ability to sustain its coalition, bridge divides, and translate cultural victories into genuine political change. By honouring 1776’s revolutionary promise -not as it was, but as it could be – No Kings fights to forge a democracy where power serves all, not one man or one class. In this way, the 250th anniversary becomes a pivotal moment to redefine America’s democratic spirit, the spirit of Lincoln and the war on slavery, ensuring that the rejection of kings in 1776 inspires the struggle for a truly universal liberty in 2026 and beyond. So “that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”Inderjeet Parmar is a professor of international politics and the associate dean of research, School of Policy and Global Affairs, City St George’s, University of London. He is a Fellow of the Academy of Social Sciences and writes the American Imperium column at The Wire. He is also an International Fellow at the ROADS Initiative think tank, Islamabad, on the board of the Miami Institute for the Social Sciences, USA, and on the advisory board of INCT-INEU, Brazil. He is the author of several books including Foundations of the American Century, and is currently writing a book on the history, politics and crises of the US foreign policy establishment.Bamo Nouri is an Honorary Visiting Research Fellow at City St George’s, University of London and an independent investigative journalist and writer with interests in American foreign policy and the international and domestic politics of West Asia. He is the author of Elite Theory and the 2003 Iraq Occupation by the United States.