By Michael Smith
A Childhood Lesson in McKinley—Before Trump Got His Hands on Him
Growing up in Youngstown, Ohio, I didn’t have to look far to find a connection to William McKinley. He was Niles’ favorite son, a local legend, a name etched into history books and street signs. When I was in fifth grade , I remember carefully pasting together my Ohio history report on McKinley, back when the most controversial thing about him was deciding whether he deserved more credit for the Spanish-American War or the gold standard (spoiler alert: my 10-year-old self didn’t care).
Now, years later, from my home in Atlanta, I see McKinley’s name making headlines again—not because of a renewed interest in his legacy, but because Donald Trump has decided to claim him as a political kindred spirit.
Trump, never one to skip an opportunity for a revisionist history moment, called McKinley an “underrated president” and claimed he had made America rich through tariffs and talent.
Well, since we’re digging up McKinley’s legacy, let’s have a real conversation about it.
Tariffs, Trade Wars, and the Ghosts of Protectionism Past
William McKinley was the face of American protectionism before it was cool (or disastrous, depending on your perspective). He championed high tariffs to protect American industries from foreign competition, believing that shielding domestic production would spur economic growth and keep American labor strong.
Sound familiar? It should.
Trump’s economic playbook—his trade wars with China, Europe, and even Canada—has echoes of McKinley’s belief that America should be a fortress of self-reliance. But while McKinley lived in an era where American industrial power was still emerging, Trump is operating in a fully globalized economy, where pretending America can stand alone is economically delusional.
McKinley’s protectionist policies worked—for a while. But they also deepened class divisions, led to monopolies consolidating power, and, ironically, laid the groundwork for his successor, Teddy Roosevelt, to become the trust-buster-in-chief. Meanwhile, Trump’s own tariff wars have hurt American farmers, raised consumer prices, and caused manufacturing slowdowns—all while promising economic prosperity that never quite materialized.
The Populist Illusion: How Trump Mirrors McKinley’s Politics
Beyond tariffs, there’s another reason Trump sees McKinley as a kindred spirit: populism.
McKinley’s 1896 campaign was a masterclass in political spectacle, driven by big money, big speeches, and an “America First” mentality. He faced off against William Jennings Bryan, a fiery populist who toured the country attacking elites, banks, and corrupt government.
But here’s where the irony comes in: Trump has spent years painting himself as a Bryan-like “outsider” fighting the establishment, when in reality, his strategy is straight from McKinley’s playbook.
McKinley wasn’t out shaking hands at rural farmhouses. He stayed home in Ohio and let surrogates spread his message. He used corporate-backed money to dominate political messaging. He whipped up nationalist sentiment to secure votes.
Sound familiar? Trump’s entire MAGA movement is built on the same tactics—except instead of railroad tycoons funding the campaign, he’s got billionaire PACs, social media propaganda, and an army of cable news loyalists.
The more things change, the more they stay the same.
From Ohio to MAGA: The Danger of Selective History
There’s something deeply frustrating about watching history get cherry-picked to serve a political agenda.
McKinley, for all his flaws, was a deeply serious politician, a Civil War veteran, and a man who understood governance. Trump, on the other hand, is an opportunist, always hunting for ways to frame himself as the inheritor of some long-lost American greatness.
But let’s not forget how McKinley’s story ended: assassinated in 1901, his presidency cut short, and his protectionist policies slowly undone by economic shifts he couldn’t control.
If Trump is looking to McKinley as a model for his second term, he might want to read the whole story.
And for all of us watching from Ohio, from Atlanta, and beyond, it’s a reminder that understanding history isn’t just about memorizing names and dates—it’s about recognizing the patterns before they repeat.
Final Reflection: What We Choose to Learn from History
Trump’s comparison to McKinley is more than just another historical misfire—it’s a reminder that America has been here before. We’ve had trade wars, we’ve had populist movements, we’ve had leaders who promised economic revival but delivered division.
So as we move forward, the real question isn’t whether Trump is McKinley reborn—it’s whether we’ve learned anything since then.
Read more at ReflectiveMVS.com
.png)
.png)
0 Comments