As the pomp and pageantry of the United States presidential inauguration unfolds in the Federal City, the air is thick with proclamations of a “peaceful transition of power.” Commentators herald this moment as a triumph of democracy, a beacon to the world of stability and order. Yet here I am, an autistic trans woman, attempting to navigate the gnawing anxiety that accompanies these rituals of empire. Writing helps me focus, a small act of defiance against the performative nonsense that dominates this day. Whilst the media encourages us to marvel at the grandeur, I cannot help but see the spectacle for what it is: a coronation, not of a democratic leader, but of a new emperor presiding over a global hegemon.
This is not a moment of collective renewal or progress; it is the cementing of imperial power. The United States, with its sprawling influence and unrelenting control, bears the hallmarks of an empire—one whose power is wielded as much through narrative as through force. I have no desire to bend the knee or swear fealty to this grifter-in-chief, whose primary concern is consolidating his rule and enriching his courtiers. The trappings of democracy, the oaths and speeches, mask the reality of a system designed to preserve the myths that sustain the empire.
Far from embodying democratic ideals, the U.S. presidency is an institution of imperial control, perpetuating policies that whitewash history and suppress truth. The executive orders poised to be issued today serve as royal proclamations, designed to erase criticism of the nation’s past and present. Efforts to stifle critical theory aim to uphold a sanitised version of history that absolves the empire of its foundational sins. Attacks on trans rights deny the humanity of those who, like me, must navigate a society that often refuses to recognise us. Meanwhile, neoliberal schemes cloaked as progress funnel wealth and resources to the emperor’s supporters, expanding their dominion under the guise of free markets and modernisation.
As I watch these proclamations unfold, I see not a celebration of democracy but a carefully orchestrated performance to legitimise the imperial project. This is not leadership—it is domination dressed in the robes of statehood, demanding allegiance whilst tightening its grip on the world and the stories we tell about it.
The Myth of the Peaceful Transition
The inauguration is paraded as the pinnacle of democratic triumph, a ceremonial transfer of power that reinforces the United States’ self-anointed role as a beacon of liberty. Yet, beneath the grand speeches and flag-waving, the event reeks of the power dynamics of a global hegemon. The unprecedented flow of corporate and ruling-class “donations” to this inauguration is more than a gesture of goodwill—it is a calculated investment. Bribes disguised as gifts flood the coffers of the new emperor, securing influence and favour for those who can afford to pay. In a particularly grotesque twist, The Orange Emperor’s crypto meme coin has emerged as a vehicle for donors to shower him with untraceable wealth, a symbolic middle finger to accountability. These are not acts of democratic celebration but the machinations of an empire propping up its ruler.
The obscene amounts spent on this spectacle provoke a sobering question: how much good could these resources do for the people who actually sustain this nation? The corporations and billionaires funnelling fortunes into this event are the same entities who cry poverty when asked to pay a living wage or provide basic benefits to their workers. These are the same voices championing austerity for the masses whilst lavishing luxury upon the emperor. The myth of American exceptionalism—of a benevolent, virtuous nation—relies on this performative grandeur, a distraction from the empire’s failure to meet the needs of its own people.
This bipartisan theatre reinforces the status quo, sustaining an empire where the ruling class thrives regardless of who wears the crown. The differences between parties are cosmetic, designed to stoke divisions and maintain a “right versus left” dichotomy. In truth, the real divide is “top versus bottom,” with the ruling class consolidating power at the expense of the working class. This divisive narrative ensures the working class remains fragmented, squabbling over scraps rather than uniting to challenge the system.
It is bitterly ironic that this coronation falls on the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s holiday. King’s murder was orchestrated to silence his efforts to unite the working class across racial lines through the Poor People’s Campaign. Today’s spectacle is a testament to the success of the empire in maintaining that division, ensuring the working class remains fractured whilst the emperor ascends, draped in the wealth and adulation of those perched firmly at the top.
Executive Orders as Imperial Decrees
Today’s executive orders are less the actions of a democratic leader than the decrees of an emperor, issued from on high without consultation or debate. These proclamations do not govern—they rule, reinforcing the empire’s priorities whilst ignoring or outright attacking those who do not fit neatly into its whitewashed narrative. For people like me, an autistic trans woman, these decrees are not abstract—they are personal, invasive, and dehumanising.
Consider the proposed federal ban on trans people using bathrooms that match our gender. This is not about public safety or policy; it’s a licence for bullies to harass me and others like me for the simple act of trying to pee. The cruelty extends further: with imperious audacity, a decree directs federal agencies like the State Department and Social Security Administration to defy court orders, barring them from updating passports or records to reflect legally mandated name and gender corrections. For trans inmates, protections against violence and abuse are to be stripped away, leaving them at the mercy of a system already stacked against them. Federal funding for programs that acknowledge our existence or use our pronouns is to be slashed, erasing even the most basic forms of recognition. These orders are not governance—they are attacks, designed to deny our humanity.
Meanwhile, other proclamations ensure that the empire’s grand narratives remain intact. Initiatives promoting “patriotic education” seek to replace critical engagement with the past with a glossy myth of American virtue. These efforts silence voices that challenge the status quo, ensuring the empire’s sins—genocide, slavery, exploitation—are sanitised or omitted altogether. Corporate interests are similarly protected, with policies designed to funnel resources to the emperor’s allies under the guise of “development.” The same neoliberal playbook repeats: privatisation schemes that enrich the few whilst leaving the working class and marginalised communities in the dust.
On the global stage, these decrees continue the empire’s long-standing strategies of dominance. Military policies that tighten the U.S.’s grip on key regions, economic sanctions that devastate vulnerable populations, and diplomatic moves that prioritise capital over humanity—all are dressed in the language of progress and stability, but their aim is control.
These executive orders bypass democratic scrutiny entirely, wielding power without accountability. They are royal proclamations in all but name, designed to entrench the empire’s rule while marginalising and erasing those who dare to exist outside its carefully curated image. For those of us targeted by these decrees, it is clear: this is not governance; it is imperial domination disguised as leadership.
The Empire’s Whitewashed History
The empire’s foundations rest on a carefully constructed mythology, a whitewashed version of history that transforms conquest into destiny and genocide into progress. Central to this mythology is the myth of the “empty land,” a narrative that erases the vibrant, millennia-old cultures that existed here long before colonisers arrived. By portraying the continent as an untamed wilderness, this story justifies the violent displacement of Indigenous peoples as an act of civilising necessity. Similarly, the myth of the “civilising mission” reframes the brutalities of colonisation as benevolent acts, casting settlers as heroes who brought order and advancement to a supposedly savage land. Enslaved peoples are reduced to mere tools in this narrative, their humanity denied, their resistance framed as barbaric, and their suffering minimised or erased altogether. The mere suggestion, as highlighted by the 1619 Project, that the founding of what would become the United States cannot be separated from the colonials and their importation of enslaved peoples provoked a frenzy of backlash from the far-right. Their vehement rejection of this project laid bare their desperation to shut down any discussion that challenges the myth of a noble and virtuous founding, exposing the lengths to which they will go to protect their whitewashed version of history.
These myths are not relics of the past but active components of the policies and rhetoric of incoming administrations. Executive proclamations to promote “patriotic education” exemplify the empire’s commitment to sustaining these falsehoods. By sanitising history, these efforts preserve the myth of the United States as a “shining city on a hill,” a beacon of virtue and inevitability. Yet that shining city was built by enslaved people, their humanity stolen to lay its foundations, over the bones of the vanquished, whose lands were seized and lives extinguished. It rose on scorched earth, the result of conquest and genocide cloaked in the language of destiny. These narratives, polished to a gleaming façade, shield the empire from accountability, ensuring that its foundational crimes remain hidden beneath the rhetoric of progress and prosperity.
This whitewashing is deeply intertwined with the suppression of critical theory and factual histories in education. Efforts to ban the teaching of systemic racism, settler colonialism, and the truth about slavery are designed to prevent future generations from questioning the empire’s moral authority. By silencing these truths, the ruling class ensures that the myths endure, protecting the structures of power that benefit them at the expense of marginalised communities.
The empire’s whitewashed history is not just a lie—it is a weapon. It is used to justify the continued marginalisation of Indigenous, Black, and other oppressed groups, to delegitimise their struggles, and to stifle the movements that seek justice. Breaking these myths is essential, not only for understanding the past but for dismantling the systems of oppression they sustain in the present.
Hegemony Abroad, Suppression at Home
The United States exerts its imperial power with an iron grip, wielding military might, economic sanctions, and cultural influence to maintain global dominance. For over fifty years—my entire life—the U.S. has been at war in one place or another. The methods may vary, but the goal remains the same: securing resources, expanding influence, and preserving hegemony. Even policies that don’t involve direct combat, such as the decades-long blockade of Cuba, are undeniably acts of war—economic warfare that cripples nations without a single shot fired. The Orange Emperor himself, during his previous administration, openly boasted about leaving troops in Syria, not to protect civilians or establish stability, but to seize and safeguard oil fields for the benefit of his corporate benefactors. This is the empire in its purest form, unashamed and unabashed in its exploitation.
This global dominance is mirrored by domestic policies designed to suppress dissent and stifle truth. The empire cannot tolerate challenges to its carefully curated narratives, whether at home or abroad. The pushback against critical theory, for instance, is not just about controlling what is taught in schools; it is about ensuring that the myths underpinning the empire remain intact. Truth-telling frameworks that expose the nation’s history of systemic oppression and exploitation are seen as existential threats, for they reveal the rot beneath the shining facade.
Corporate collaborators play a crucial role in maintaining this suppression. Meta’s recent decision to lift fact-checking requirements is but one example of how empire-friendly interests do their part to support the narrative machinery. By allowing misinformation to flourish, they create a fog of confusion that shields the powerful from accountability and keeps the public divided. In this disarray, the empire thrives, its lies left unchallenged while its critics are marginalised or silenced.
The strength of the empire lies not only in its military bases or economic sanctions but in its control of stories—both the ones it tells the world and the ones it tells its own people. These narratives justify its actions abroad and disempower resistance at home. To challenge this hegemony is to dismantle its myths, exposing the stark realities of a system built on exploitation, violence, and suppression, both near and far.
The Role of Executive Orders in Cementing Myths
Executive orders, in practice, function as the imperial decrees of a system that prioritises consolidation of power over democratic governance. They bypass public debate, entrench the status quo, and serve as tools for cementing the empire’s agenda. Over the decades, their use has grown increasingly imperial in nature, evolving from exceptional measures into routine exercises of authority. This shift has been exacerbated by Congress, which has systematically abdicated its role as a co-equal branch of government. Fearful of electoral repercussions, legislators have retreated into inaction, preferring to cede power to the executive rather than risk their votes being held against them. In doing so, they have enabled the executive branch to rule as it wishes, unencumbered by the checks and balances that were ostensibly designed to constrain it.
Whilst the Orange Emperor stands as the titular head of state, it is essential to recognise that the United States is not truly governed by the will of its people or even by the whims of its president. Instead, we are effectively ruled by the dictatorship of capital—a system in which the capitalist class holds the reins of power, shaping policy to serve its interests. In this, King Orange is less a sovereign and more a figurehead, albeit a powerful one, whose decrees reflect and enforce the priorities of the capitalist class. The president acts as a lightning rod for attention, a distraction from the broader structures of domination that remain firmly in place regardless of who occupies the throne.
The historical trajectory of executive orders underscores their role in perpetuating the empire. During the 19th century, they were instrumental in advancing settler colonialism, as seen in Andrew Jackson’s enforcement of the Indian Removal Act, which led to the Trail of Tears and the displacement of entire Indigenous nations. Executive actions facilitated the expansion of slavery, privileging the economic interests of the plantation-owning class over the fundamental rights of millions of human beings. In the 20th century, Franklin D. Roosevelt’s Executive Order 9066, which authorised the internment of Japanese Americans, demonstrated how these decrees could be wielded to legitimise systemic injustice under the guise of national security.
Today, executive orders continue to reflect the priorities of the capitalist class. Decrees stripping protections from marginalised communities, advancing neoliberal privatisation schemes, or enacting sanctions that devastate nations abroad are not merely the whims of a single leader. They are the codification of policies designed to protect corporate profits, suppress dissent, and maintain global hegemony. These actions preserve the myths of American virtue and inevitability while ensuring that the levers of power remain firmly in the hands of the ruling elite.
By sidestepping Congress and bypassing public scrutiny, executive orders epitomise the undemocratic nature of this system. They are tools of empire, wielded not in the interest of the people but in service of the dictatorship of capital. The Orange Emperor may wear the crown, but it is the capitalist class that truly governs, using him as a figurehead to mask the deeper realities of power. This is not leadership—it is rule by decree, a mechanism for ensuring that the empire continues to thrive at the expense of its people and the world.
The Need for Truth in the Face of Empire
The myths that sustain the empire are not just historical fabrications; they are the foundation upon which its power rests. Breaking these myths is not an academic exercise—it is an act of resistance, a step toward dismantling the structures of oppression and exploitation that define the U.S. imperial project. Truth-telling, in education and public discourse, is vital. Critique is not just good—it is essential. A healthy society must embrace critique, not suppress it, for it is through critique that we confront uncomfortable truths, challenge entrenched power, and envision a better world.
Critical theory and historical accuracy strike at the heart of imperial power, exposing the lies that justify conquest, exploitation, and inequality. Works like Das Kapital were not just treatises; they were critiques—bold, incisive examinations of the systems that dominate our lives. Such critiques remain vital today. Reading Das Kapital and other works that challenge the status quo—On Contradiction, What Is to Be Done?, Imperialism: The Highest Stage of Capitalism—is an act of intellectual defiance. These texts provide the tools to understand the mechanisms of power and exploitation, and they serve as blueprints for imagining alternatives to the empire’s relentless march.
Yet, the risks of seeking and speaking truth are growing. Those who push back against the myths of empire face resistance, censorship, and often outright hostility. The suppression of critical theory in schools and the attacks on educators who dare to teach factual history are but one example. Beyond this, one cannot help but wonder about the future: will access to revolutionary literature become constrained? If the capitalist class succeeds in provoking a war with China, what will be the penalty for owning a copy of Mao’s On Contradiction? Will reading and engaging with such texts be deemed subversive, a threat to the empire’s narrative control? History suggests that the answer is likely yes.
Despite these risks, the necessity of truth-telling cannot be overstated. The empire thrives on lies, but it is vulnerable to critique. By challenging the myths, exposing the mechanisms of power, and refusing to be silenced, we create the possibility for change. The pursuit of truth is not just an intellectual exercise; it is a revolutionary act, one that demands courage, persistence, and a refusal to surrender to the empire’s demands for compliance. If we are to dismantle imperial structures, we must begin with the truth, no matter how inconvenient or dangerous it may be.
Final thoughts …
The Orange Emperor stands before us, draped in the trappings of democracy, but the reality beneath the gilded robes is far less majestic. Less than one-third of the electorate voted for him, a stark reminder that he holds no true mandate to rule. Yet, this glaring fact is obscured by the spectacle of the inauguration, a pageant designed to distract from the fragility of the empire’s claim to legitimacy. The pomp and ceremony serve as the emperor’s new clothes, concealing the raw exercise of power that defines imperial governance.
This is not democracy; it is rule by distraction, by myth, by the relentless reinforcement of a narrative that keeps the empire intact. It is imperative for us to recognise these myths for what they are: tools of control, designed to keep us compliant and divided. The story of the “shining city on a hill,” the myth of American exceptionalism, the lies of inevitability and righteousness—all are weapons used to preserve a system that exploits the many for the benefit of the few.
But these myths are not unassailable. They can be challenged, and they must be. The first step is personal: questioning what we have been taught, seeking the truth, and refusing to accept the empire’s lies at face value. The next step is collective: joining with others to dismantle the narratives and systems that sustain imperial rule. Whether through education, activism, or simply the courage to speak out, we each have a role to play in exposing the emperor’s nakedness.
Capitalism, the engine of this empire, is riddled with contradictions. Its relentless drive for profit at the expense of humanity and the planet cannot continue indefinitely. These contradictions will, inevitably, lead to its downfall. When that moment comes, when the empire’s lies can no longer sustain it, the truth will emerge, and a new world will become possible. It is up to us to prepare for that moment, to ensure that when the emperor’s clothes are finally stripped away, we are ready to build something better.
The emperor stands exposed, no matter how dazzling the performance. Now is the time to look beyond the spectacle, to challenge the myths, and to envision a future where truth is no longer suppressed and justice is no longer deferred. The empire’s fall is inevitable. The question is whether we will rise to meet it.