Confidence is the quiet engine of a republic. It is essential and a nation cannot function — let alone lead — when its people no longer trust the institutions that bind them together. One of the greatest harms Donald Trump has done is not a single policy, not a single scandal, but the slow, grinding erosion of Americans’ faith in their own system of government. He had made us feel bad about ourselves.
For generations, Americans believed that their institutions were imperfect but resilient. They believed that the Republic could withstand storms because its foundations were strong. Trump’s rise challenged that assumption. His governing style, rhetoric, and relentless attacks on the legitimacy of the very institutions he was elected to lead created a climate in which millions of Americans began to doubt the Republic itself. He has not taken care that the laws be faithfully executed.
This is not a partisan critique; it is a structural one. When a president repeatedly insists that elections are rigged, that courts are corrupt, that the press is the enemy, that Congress is illegitimate unless it serves him, he is not merely attacking opponents — he is attacking the architecture of American self-government. And when a significant portion of the population embraces those claims, the damage could become generational.
The most dangerous consequence is not Trump’s personal behavior, but the way it normalized disdain for democratic institutions. Americans who once disagreed passionately within a shared constitutional framework now question whether that framework is viable. The result is a nation that doubts its own reflection.
A weakened America — one that has lost faith in its Republic — is vulnerable in ways that transcend politics. Domestically, distrust becomes a solvent. It dissolves the social contract. Citizens who no longer believe in the legitimacy of elections are less willing to accept outcomes. Citizens who no longer trust courts are less willing to abide by rulings. Citizens who no longer believe Congress represents them are less willing to see compromise as democratic rather than treasonous. The Republic becomes not a shared project but a battleground.
Internationally, the consequences are even more stark. Allies rely on American stability. Adversaries exploit American division. A nation that doubts its own institutions cannot credibly defend democratic norms abroad. It cannot lead coalitions, deter aggression, or project confidence. The world watches not only what America does, but how America sees itself — and right now, it sees a country struggling with self-doubt.
The tragedy is that this crisis of confidence was avoidable. It did not arise from economic collapse or foreign invasion. It arose from a leader who treated distrust as a political resource. Trump’s attacks on institutions were not incidental; they were strategic. They rallied his base, fueled grievance, and created a narrative in which only he could be trusted. But the cost of that strategy was the public’s faith in the republic itself. Dictators throughout history have used this tactic.
Rebuilding that faith will take years. It will require leaders who understand that institutions are not obstacles but guardians. It will require citizens willing to believe again in the slow, unglamorous work of democracy. And it will require a national commitment to the idea that the republic is bigger than any one man, any one moment, any one movement.
America has been shaken. But it is not broken. Confidence can be restored. Institutions can be strengthened. The republic can recover. The results of our recent election clearly show Americans want to move forward and regain their confidence in our amazing country. The danger lies not in acknowledging the damage, but in pretending it never happened. It has happened and America rejected Trump and his lack of leadership.
(David M. Crane’s professional life spans military service, senior intelligence oversight, international prosecution, academic leadership, and global accountability innovation. His reputation is one of independence, courage, and intellectual leadership. His legacy — particularly the Charles Taylor indictment and the creation of modern accountability mechanisms — places him among the most influential international prosecutors since Nuremberg.)