Trump’s New Administration, Elon Musk, and the March of Capital
I have watched from Britain with growing concern the rise of Trump 2.0—the resurgence of his authoritarian politics, the malign influence of the Heritage Foundation and its Project 2025, the unchecked power of tech oligarchs, the feeble opposition from the Democrats, and the growing acceptance of open fascism. Donald Trump’s second term has ushered in a radical restructuring of the American state, one that can only be fully understood through the lens of capitalist class interests and the accelerating decay of neoliberalism. At the heart of this transformation is Elon Musk, a billionaire whose role in dismantling state institutions is not merely about personal gain but emblematic of capital’s broader drive to subordinate public institutions to private accumulation.
The State in Late Capitalism
The state is not a neutral entity; it is a battleground for class struggle, shaped by the economic system it operates within. In advanced capitalism, the state serves a dual purpose: managing capitalism’s crises through regulation and welfare while ensuring conditions for continued profit and accumulation. The neoliberal era, beginning in the late 20th century, systematically weakened the former role in favour of the latter, promoting privatisation and deregulation under the banner of efficiency. Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan were pivotal in this shift, treating the state not as a mechanism for economic balance but as an enforcer of market discipline. Their policies hollowed out public institutions, crushed trade unions, and transferred vast swathes of public assets into private hands, fundamentally reshaping the relationship between state and capital.
“Their policies hollowed out public institutions, crushed trade unions, and transferred vast swathes of public assets into private hands, fundamentally reshaping the relationship between state and capital.”
Bill Clinton’s administration played a similar role in the United States, solidifying the very neoliberal orthodoxy that had been accelerated under Reagan. While Clinton campaigned on themes of economic justice, his presidency was marked by the deregulation of financial markets, the gutting of welfare programs, and the expansion of corporate influence over public policy. His repeal of Glass-Steagall removed barriers between commercial and investment banking, paving the way for the financialisation of the economy and the 2008 crash. At the same time, his 1996 welfare reform act slashed social protections under the guise of “ending welfare as we know it,” intensifying the precarious conditions for millions of working-class Americans. His embrace of free trade agreements like NAFTA further entrenched global capital’s dominance, accelerating the deindustrialisation of the U.S. while devastating economies in Mexico and beyond.
Tony Blair’s New Labour largely entrenched this logic rather than reversing it. While his government maintained a veneer of social investment, it operated within the same neoliberal framework, expanding private sector involvement in public services, embracing financialisation, and consolidating the idea that the state’s role was to facilitate, rather than regulate, capitalist expansion. Blair followed the Clinton model: public-private partnerships that funnelled wealth into corporate hands, university tuition fees that deepened class divides, and a zealous commitment to the market even in areas like health and education (through PFI building schems). Just as Clinton had brokered a neoliberal consensus in Washington, Blair ensured that Thatcherism remained Britain’s governing ideology, repackaged with the language of modernisation and opportunity.
“Just as Clinton had brokered a neoliberal consensus in Washington, Blair ensured that Thatcherism remained Britain’s governing ideology, repackaged with the language of modernisation and opportunity.”
Trump’s second term, however, represents a departure beyond conventional neoliberalism—towards a more overt fusion of state and capital, where government functions are increasingly subordinated to corporate power rather than merely influenced by it. This marks a shift from the neoliberal state’s emphasis on market mechanisms towards a more direct and authoritarian alignment of state apparatus with corporate interests, eroding even the minimal regulatory functions that previous neoliberal governments had preserved. This escalating convergence of corporate and state power not only reconfigures the neoliberal order but also sets the stage for a more insidious transformation, one that aligns closely with the neofascist tendencies described by Gilbert Achcar.
Neofascism and State Transformation
Gilbert Achcar writes in “The Age of Neofascism and Its Distinctive Features” about the emergence of a modern form of fascism that corrodes democratic institutions from within while maintaining a veneer of procedural legality. This framework is crucial in understanding Trump’s administration, which—under the guise of economic nationalism and efficiency—is systematically dismantling state institutions while consolidating power within an elite capitalist class. The erosion of regulatory agencies, the militarisation of domestic policing, and the suppression of protest movements align with Achcar’s thesis that contemporary neofascism is not a sudden rupture but a controlled demolition of liberal democracy. This erosion of democratic institutions and the consolidation of power within a capitalist elite is not an abstract process but is embodied in figures like Elon Musk, whose role in Trump’s administration exemplifies the corporate capture of the state.
The Corporate Seizure of the State
Musk’s central role in this process is emblematic of a deeper transformation. Appointed to head the newly created and self named Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), Musk has spearheaded a campaign to dismantle key federal agencies under the banner of “reducing bureaucracy.” This has included mass layoffs, the gutting of regulatory bodies, and the closure of institutions deemed ‘unnecessary’—chief among them, the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID).
Dan La Botz’s argues that Musk embodies a new form of capitalist governance, where tech oligarchs circumvent traditional bureaucratic oversight and reorient state functions towards private capital. Musk’s direct control over agencies like the Treasury Department and the Office of Personnel Management epitomises this trend, where regulatory frameworks are not merely weakened but actively weaponised to serve monopolistic control.
Trump and the Erosion of the Rule of Law
Trump’s second term has seen an even more blatant disregard for the rule of law, a characteristic that is emblematic of his broader political strategy. His recent suggestion that the population of Gaza be forcibly displaced to neighbouring states, with the area bulldozed to create a ‘Riviera of the Middle East,’ exemplifies both his disregard for international norms and his alignment with settler-colonial ideology. Such proposals, which amount to ethnic cleansing, not only violate international law and several UN mandates but further alienate the U.S. from global institutions.
Moreover, Trump’s hostility towards the International Criminal Court (ICC) has intensified, with his administration threatening sanctions and legal action against ICC officials investigating U.S. and allied (Israeli) war crimes. By undermining international legal institutions, Trump signals his broader rejection of any accountability mechanisms that might restrain imperial power. This further erodes the post-war legal framework, consolidating a world order in which force, rather than law, dictates geopolitical realities.
Trump’s Regime: Fascist, Nationalist, or Neoliberal Collapse?
Debate continues regarding the exact nature of Trump’s administration. Is it fascist? Nationalist? A new form of imperialism? A materialist analysis suggests that while aspects of each are present, the administration’s defining feature is its adaptation to the contradictions of late capitalism.
Nationalist Rhetoric, Global Capital
While Trump’s rhetoric is steeped in nationalism and protectionism, his actual policies overwhelmingly serve global capital. His tariffs on Chinese imports, for example, are not genuine attempts to revive American industry but maneuvers to assert dominance in an increasingly multipolar world order. Even his isolationist gestures—such as slashing USAID—do not signify a retreat from empire but a strategic shift toward economic coercion in place of traditional diplomacy.
Trump’s global economic ambitions further expose the contradictions of his nationalism. His attempt to purchase Greenland, dismissed as absurd, reveals a strategic aim: securing control over Arctic resources and military positioning amid intensifying U.S.-China tensions. His renewed focus on the Panama Canal highlights Washington’s determination to curb Chinese influence in global trade (even if it means attacking capital) infrastructure, potentially escalating economic confrontation in Cental/South America. Most revealingly, his approach to Ukraine demonstrates how military aid has become an explicit tool of economic extraction—Trump has made it clear that continued U.S. support is conditional on American access to Ukraine’s vast lithium, grain, and natural gas reserves. This transactional foreign policy underscores a shift in imperial strategy, where direct military interventions are increasingly replaced by economic leverage and resource-driven coercion.
Authoritarianism as a Response to Capitalist Instability
The erosion of civil liberties, the centralisation of executive power, and the restructuring of civil service into a loyalty-based apparatus signal a shift towards an authoritarian state form. I would argue that this is not merely an ideological shift—it is a material necessity in an era of deepening economic and social crises. Traditional institutions of bourgeois democracy—the lower courts, regulatory agencies, and trade unions—are increasingly perceived by capital as obstacles to accumulation, necessitating their dismantling or subordination.
The ‘New’ Imperialism
While 20th-century U.S. imperialism was characterised by military interventions (dripping in blood), Trump’s administration experiments with a new imperialism, one rooted in economic warfare rather than territorial occupation. The dismantling of USAID does not reflect an abandonment of global influence but a reconfiguration of imperial strategy, shifting from developmental aid to raw economic coercion. The aggressive deployment of tariffs, sanctions, and a new series of trade wars is a method of disciplining both rival powers and dependent economies. This logic extends to Trump’s geopolitical ambitions—whether seeking control over Greenland’s untapped resources, limiting China’s perceived grip over the Panama Canal, or leveraging Ukraine’s natural wealth in return for military support. These moves illustrate a deepening fusion of state and capital, where economic domination, rather than military force, becomes the primary instrument of imperial strategy.
Against this backdrop of escalating economic coercion and corporate-led governance, resistance to Trumpism cannot merely rely on procedural democracy, it requires a structural challenge to the forces that enabled its rise.
Resisting Trumpism
British Prime Minister Keir Starmer has framed Labour as a bulwark of democratic values—marking a political reset from the previous Tory government—and as an opponent of the far right, exemplified by his calls for harsher sentences after last year’s riots. Yet his approach remains largely rhetorical, as evidenced by his decision to echo Reform UK’s hardline stance on small boat crossings. To meaningfully resist Trumpism, Labour must move beyond conventional centrism and present a radical alternative, one that directly confronts the neoliberal policies that laid the groundwork for Trump’s rise. This requires shifting power away from corporate monopolies and towards genuine democratic economic control.
A transformative industrial strategy is essential. The Labour government must commit to renewed public ownership in key sectors, particularly energy and critical infrastructure, to reduce Britain’s reliance on U.S.-controlled capital. This includes telecommunications, water, and energy sector—areas where private monopolies and foreign ownership have driven up costs and eroded service quality. Alongside this, strengthening trade union rights and embedding workplace democracy into the economic structure would ensure that resistance to corporate power is not left to sporadic movements but is instead institutionalised.
Crucially, any future trade deal must include an explicit red line: U.S. private healthcare must be kept out of the NHS, and American pharmaceutical companies must not be allowed to drive up drug prices through aggressive intellectual property provisions. The NHS cannot be treated as a market for exploitation by foreign capital—protecting it from corporate capture is fundamental to maintaining universal healthcare and resisting further privatisation by stealth. Our NHS is not for sale.
On the international stage, resisting Trumpism demands a foreign policy independent of U.S. imperial interests. This means not just distancing Britain from Trump’s economic and future military interventions but actively supporting international frameworks that promote stability and self-determination. By expanding foreign aid and stepping into the space left by USAID’s retreat, Britain (and the EU) could position itself as a counterweight to U.S. corporate dominance rather than a willing subordinate. A Labour government that leads a European realignment against Trumpism would have far greater strategic leverage than one that merely reacts to Washington’s dictates.
But that alone is not enough. Starmer and his Foreign Secretary must demand that Trump upholds international norms and the rule of law. The forced displacement of civilians in Gaza—Trump’s tacit endorsement of an Israeli policy demanding Palestinians leave—is a war crime and must be called out for what it is: ethnic cleansing. The UK cannot claim to stand for international law while remaining silent as entire populations are driven from their homes under the guise of security and prime real estate. The International Criminal Court (ICC) must be supported in prosecuting war crimes, regardless of whether the perpetrators reside in Washington, Tel Aviv, or Moscow. If Labour’s foreign policy amounts to nothing more than following in the wake of American aggression, it will have failed before it has even begun. Resisting Trumpism requires not just divergence from U.S. economic control but the courage to name imperialism for what it is, and to fight it.
“The International Criminal Court (ICC) must be supported in prosecuting war crimes, regardless of whether the perpetrators reside in Washington, Tel Aviv, or Moscow.”
The return of Trump and the consolidation of corporate-state rule in the U.S. pose a direct challenge to Britain, particularly to a Labour government under Starmer, who is not a natural ally, regardless of the special relationship. If he is serious about resisting Trumpism, he must reject Britain’s status as an economic vassal of the United States and instead pursue a path that strengthens ties with Europe while curbing American economic influence.
This requires a decisive diplomatic shift. Re-engaging with the European Union on trade, regulatory alignment, and security cooperation would not only provide economic stability but also create a buffer against U.S. attempts to reshape the global order to its advantage. At the same time, Britain must take the initiative in global development, not simply as a counterweight to U.S. influence but as part of a broader restructuring of global economic relations. This is not a call for neo-colonialism or a rebranded Commonwealth but for a genuinely new playing field—one where developing nations are freed from the burden of legacy debt and the economic stranglehold of international financial institutions. If Britain is serious about building a multipolar world that resists both U.S. and Chinese economic coercion, it must champion an international financial system that serves the interests of the global working class rather than reinforcing cycles of dependency.
To resist Trump’s isolationism and his dismantling of USAID, Britain must go further. A Labour government should take the lead in a renewed global campaign for debt cancellation, recognising that IMF and World Bank-imposed austerity has been the single greatest driver of instability in the Global South. Rather than funnelling aid through exploitative financial structures that only deepen economic dependence, Britain must push for systemic change—one that prioritises development on sovereign terms rather than Western-dictated conditionality. Breaking with neoliberal financial orthodoxy is not just a moral imperative but a strategic necessity. By forging real economic partnerships and offering an alternative to both U.S. capital and Chinese state finance, Britain can shift the balance of power in global diplomacy, positioning itself as a leader in a truly multilateral order rather than an appendage of American economic interests.
Yet these ambitions are constrained by Britain’s growing economic subservience to U.S. capital. As Angus Hanton argues in his book The Vassal State, a substantial portion of British industry is now under American ownership, limiting the government’s autonomy in shaping economic policy. But the problem extends beyond ownership—British businesses are also deeply entangled in U.S. service infrastructure, from financial systems to cloud computing, making economic independence even harder to achieve. If Starmer is serious about resisting Trumpism, he must introduce measures to reduce dependency on U.S. capital and infrastructure. This means prioritising domestic investment through an assertive industrial strategy, tightening regulations on foreign takeovers, and revitalising public ownership in key sectors.
This dynamic was evident during Trump’s first term when the US pressured Britain to block Huawei from developing its 5G network, citing security concerns. In reality, this was less about national security and more about protecting US capital’s dominance in the tech sector. The episode drove a wedge between the two countries, but Britain ultimately backed down—despite the irony that US firms already dominate key sectors of the British economy, including tech, finance, pharmaceuticals, and military procurement.
Resisting Trumpism is not simply about rejecting Trump himself; it requires breaking with the neoliberal orthodoxy that has left Britain economically and politically vulnerable. If Starmer’s Labour fails to offer a progressive alternative that reclaims sovereignty from corporate and foreign domination, it will remain trapped in a cycle of reaction rather than leading a decisive break from the conditions that fuel right-wing populism.
“Resisting Trumpism is not simply about rejecting Trump himself; it requires breaking with the neoliberal orthodoxy that has left Britain economically and politically vulnerable.”
The Future of the State
Trump’s administration, rather than an anomaly, represents the latest stage in capital’s ongoing adaptation to crisis. The hollowing out of the state, the direct integration of capitalists like Musk and Peter Thiel into governance, and the increasing authoritarian turn are symptoms of a system incapable of resolving its contradictions through traditional means.
For the left, the challenge is twofold: first, to recognise that resisting Trumpism requires more than electoral strategies—it necessitates a direct confrontation with the system of capitalist power itself. Second, to build alternatives that do not merely aim to restore the old welfare state but actively challenge the structures of capital accumulation that made its decline inevitable. The choice is not between Trumpism and neoliberal democracy—it is between capitalist barbarism and socialist transformation.
The Hollowing of the State: Reprise
A traditional Marxist analysis understands the state as an instrument of class rule—one that exists to serve the interests of capital and must ultimately be abolished in the transition to socialism. But I argue that the danger today is not the withering away of the capitalist state in the face of workers’ power, but its hollowing out in the service of capital itself. The structures that once mediated social conflict, public services, regulatory institutions, even the bureaucratic mechanisms of governance, are being dismantled, not in the name of proletarian emancipation, but to free capital from any remaining constraints.
This is not the revolutionary collapse Marx envisioned, where the working class supersedes the bourgeois state, but a decay that strengthens the dominance of private power. As the state is stripped of its capacity to provide social protections, regulate markets, uphold environmental protections or enforce even a minimal standard of democratic accountability, it ceases to be a contested space and becomes little more than a shell through which capital operates unchecked. Trump’s executive orders illustrate this process in its most extreme form—state agencies are no longer even performing the function of balancing contradictions within capitalism but are instead being reduced to tools of pure accumulation and repression.
I do not argue that the capitalist state is something to be preserved in the long run, but I do insist that the absence of a functioning state does not lead to workers’ control, it leads to an even greater entrenchment of corporate power, enforced by a mixture of authoritarian decree, private security forces, and algorithmic governance. When the state is no longer an arena in which the working class can push back—through labour laws, welfare protections, or even basic rights—it does not disappear; it simply fuses with capital entirely. What remains is not socialism, nor even classical neoliberalism, but a form of post-state capitalism in which corporate monopolies dictate the social order more directly than ever before.
Some on the left may argue that this is still preferable to the bloated, bureaucratic state that exists now, that this decay is part of the capitalist system’s internal contradictions. But I would counter that the nature of its disintegration matters. The challenge is not to mourn the decline of a capitalist state but to recognise that its hollowing out—without an organised alternative—only accelerates the consolidation of power in private hands. If Trumpism, or any form of reactionary politics, is allowed to complete the transformation of the state into an empty vessel of corporate rule, the struggle for socialism will become immeasurably harder. It is not enough to oppose Trump; the left must actively build the institutions that will take power when the state, as we know it, is finally unrecognisable. Resisting Trumpism is crucial.
If the tech elite get their way and build their so-called “freedom cities,” it will not be the first step on the path to utopia, it will be the final enclosure. For the majority, the working poor, these techno-libertarian enclaves will not be places of opportunity but fortresses from which they are locked out, monitored, and controlled, while beyond their walls, a global police state keeps order in the wreckage. The oligarchs will party through the end of the world, insulated from the consequences of the system they created, as the rest of humanity is left to toil in the ruins. If the left does not fight now, we may wake up in a world where capital has finally achieved its ultimate dream: a society where wealth is liberated, and people are not. The old order is dying, but the new one is not yet born. What emerges next will be determined by who is most prepared to shape it—and if the left does not seize this moment, capital will.
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