The “Hands Off” demonstrations on April 5 reached Idaho and Montana—two very pro-Trump states. Over 4,000 people turned out in Missoula (pop. 78,000), and eighteen other Montana cities saw protests, including Kalispell (pop. 30,000), Hamilton (pop.  5,600), and even tiny Troy (pop. 900). Idaho protests included a “massive crowd” in Boise, 1,000 protesters in Pocatello, 500 in Twin Falls, and “several hundred” in Coeur d’Alene and Driggs (pop. 2,300). 

Spring was in the air. The sun was bright. Protest signs blossomed. Passing motorists seemed supportive—according to news reports, more thumbs up than middle fingers and monster trucks. The participants were pleased to have something tangible to do, something that seemed to matter. Well-meaning folks got to express their frustrations and fears and discovered they aren’t alone—not locally, not nationally. A beautiful day. 

But…was it a momentum-building activity? Would it bear fruit? Or was it merely catharsis? 

This example might be typical: Some 800 people (sadly, almost no one under age 30) lined a downtown street in Sandpoint, Idaho. The crowd, including a few Republicans, was enthusiastic and amiable, even inspired. Yet there were no formal orations, no one distributing flyers, no educational opportunities, no calls for action, no invitations to join or form a resistance organization, no public discussion of a next step. Shout, wave your signs, go home. 

So, what is the next step for those who wish to resist Trumpism but live in the rural, intermountain West? There will be more nationwide days of protest and, hopefully, nationwide acts of noncooperation, such as boycotts and general strikes. But what can be accomplished locally when you are outnumbered by Trump voters, ignored by state and national lawmakers, and isolated from the centers of financial, political, and demographic power? Frankly, without national media attention, anti-Trump chants in your quiet mountain town will go mostly unheard. 

Trump is one man. Trumpism, especially presidential contempt for constitutional separation of powers, relies on the support or acquiescence of thousands of lawmakers. Red-state resisters have almost no direct leverage over the president, but they do have access to their federal congressional delegation, governor, and state legislators. The basic strategy should be to pressure these high-profile Trump enablers, make them pay a political price for cooperating with presidential assaults on the Constitution while betraying their constituents’ interests. 

In the past few years, Montana state legislators have passed a series of voter suppression laws. In Idaho, the attorney general and a group of state legislators continue their disingenuous campaign to impair statewide ballot propositions. The state supreme courts have blocked these stratagems—for the moment.  

Recently, the Idaho governor’s office established an automated phone line— “press 2 for veto”—because so many people were objecting to House Bill 93. This “tax  credit” legislation, pushed by out-of-state lobbyists and narrowly passed by state  senators, would likely shift $50 million from Idaho’s underfunded public schools into private religious schools. Despite the fact that 86 percent of 37,457 phone messages and emails to the governor opposed the bill, he signed it into law. The special phone  number was just for show. 

Democrats, unaffiliated voters, and traditional Republicans tend to agree on supporting public education, constitutional church-state separation, and voting rights. Many Republicans are souring on MAGA extremism. The ground is fertile for nonviolent campaigns—something beyond petitions, phone calls, and biennial voting—to defend and expand state-level democracy. So why a special day of protest against Trump and no special days of protest against anti-democracy lawmakers closer to  home? 

Currently, it’s (relatively) easy to organize an anti-Trump protest because 1) his despicable words and actions are constantly in the news, 2) national organizations are providing leadership, and 3) potential protesters know you’re not going to ask them to march on Washington. Organizing to demand democratic integrity from a governor or legislator will require greater effort because 1) such politicians may appear decent and polite, 2) you can’t rely on national leadership, and 3) potential protesters may worry that you will ask them to take the next step, such as rally outside someone’s office or occupy the state capitol. 

But if U.S. citizens really want to roll back repressive rule by wealthy interests, they’ll have to sacrifice more than two hours on a Saturday afternoon. The choice, as always, is complacency or democracy. Maybe people are finally ready. Maybe that’s why so many are now asking, What can we do? 

As you build a non-partisan, pro-democracy campaign—as you strategize tangible actions—think about separating Trump voters from Trumpism. That’s not impossible. Trump’s incompetent appointees and economic policies are already undermining his support. His tariff program will prove to be a significant tax on the middle class. 

The average U.S. voter isn’t sure what to believe about political news and pays more attention to personal economic indicators. The average small-town voter is socially conscious within their community—more so than urbanites may realize—and far less concerned with people they can’t see. 

A promising path, then, is to make plain the connection between Trump policies and declining prospects at the local level. Letters to editors, study groups, social media, panel discussions (teach-ins), and neighborly conversations can be effective, with little risk involved, especially if you follow these guidelines:

-Leave out party politics and personalities; this is about policies and how individuals are faring locally. 

-Speak the local language—freedom, founding fathers, Constitution—but sincerely, not  sardonically. 

-Emphasize shared values, such as local self-determination, human decency, equal economic opportunity. 

-Don’t expect miraculous conversions. Plant seeds. Serve food for thought.

-Rather than engage in debate, listen to concerns and ask questions, build friendships.

-Don’t worry about your hardcore MAGA neighbors; they aren’t your audience.

-This essay may be a useful example. 

To summarize: 1) organize a local and state-level, non-partisan, pro-democracy action campaign, 2) educate residents on how Trumpism hurts them, 3) force state officials to choose between Trumpism and their disaffected constituents. The odds might seem long in a rural red state, but with U.S. democracy imperiled, every bit of  resistance (short of violence) is needed, every bit of pressure helps. 

Furthermore, because the fascist danger (government thuggery) may be worse than you think, and because, presumably, you don’t want to be like the polite, decent Germans in the 1930s who kept their heads down while Nazis gradually consolidated power, consider these two steps: 

Identify true allies. A day may come when you find yourself protecting vulnerable individuals, such as immigrants, single mothers, medical professionals, teachers, LGBTQ+ folks, yourself. Know who you can trust. Prepare encrypted methods of communication. Use thought experiments to ponder how you (and your tight network) might respond to a crisis. If all of this sounds overly dramatic, think about those unsuspecting, unprepared Germans. 

Carry out acts of civil disobedience—if you’re willing to suffer the potential legal consequences. But be strategic, not self-serving. Focus on exposing injustices in your community or state. Think in terms of educating and inspiring. Which is to say, make sure your action is compelling enough to “go viral” and nonviolent enough to win sympathy—like this infamous town hall incident. Silence is consent; private dissent is complaining; public dissent empowers others. 

Last, but perhaps first, be positive—though not in a trite way. Trumpism is the culmination of political trends that began in the 1980s or sooner. It depends on fear, hatred, ignorance, and division. In recent years, Idaho and Montana have attracted thousands of new residents with fear-based worldviews.  

The antidote is to build a joyful community—for the long term. Plan upbeat public events to overcome your fears. Employ humor, make political dissent fun, get teenagers involved (their futures are in jeopardy, after all). See what happens. Changing your own energy changes the energy of those around you. Physicists call it high vibrational frequency. Christians call it love.

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