In short, longtime syndicated pundit William Safire defined "political machine" as, "...The election of officials and the passage of legislation through the power of an organization created for Political action." Which might sound harmless enough, that is, until you take a good look at the history of boss-led urban machines in the USA during the era in which they ruled. 

Speaking of history, of course, it is replete with stories about dictators, monarchs, strongmen, emperors, etc., down through the ages, all over the world. Yet, "bossism," an ism that originated in America's big cities, was a gift to society from the Gilded Age, 1870-1900. 

In 1969, author and New York Times editorial writer William V. Shannon wrote: "The big city and the political boss grew up together in America. Bossism, with all its color and corruption and human drama, was a natural and perhaps necessary accompaniment to the rapid development of cities ... By 1890 virtually every sizable city had a political boss or was in the process of developing one. By 1950, sixty years later, almost every urban political machine was in an advanced state of obsolescence and its boss in trouble."

Growing up in Virginia I got a firsthand look at statewide machine politics. For over four decades of the 1900s the Byrd Machine ruled the Commonwealth of Virginia by having officials loyal to Harry F. Byrd installed in virtually all of the positions of power in most of the Old Dominion's jurisdictions, especially in the rural areas. In the 1950s and '60s the Byrd Machine was the engine that drove the Massive Resistance strategy crafted to derail the integration of public schools.  

Of the other legendary American political machines of the twentieth century, two of the most colorful of them may have been the Pendergast Machine based in Kansas City in the 1920s and '30s and the Daley Machine of Chicago in the 1950s and '60s. Mayor Richard J. Daley was frequently referred to as the "last of the big city bosses." 

While the extent of the corruption and the degree of the intimidation tactics may have varied from one city's, or state's, dominant political machine to another, bare-knuckled autocracy was pretty much the ruling style of bossism wherever it took root.

The most remembered American political machine bosses routinely corrupted local governments with jobs, or bribes, or threats. By hook or by crook they installed obedient stooges in positions of power in the governments of cities, counties and in states. To assist the stooges there were enforcers. And, fixing elections is covered in chapter one of the How to Be a Political Machine Boss instruction manual.

Inevitably, political machines needed a charismatic, self-absorbed, large personality as the  boss. So, those organizations were commonly ruled by a personality much more than by the tenets of an ideology or some big picture objective. Among his skills the boss needed was the knack for grabbing whatever passions were in the air and converting them into tools. Ethnic clashes were handy that way. Stoking new fears and old grudges are still reliable as monkey wrenches.     

Anyway, Trump wants to be the boss of a national political machine -- the Trumpists. He wants to see the USA run like a big city or statewide political machine was run in the day. Thus, when Democrats call Trump a "fascist," it might feel good to say it, but the label doesn't stick. Plus, it sounds a little bit hysterical, so it is probably time for a new label. 

Fascism in Europe was largely a reaction to the collapse of monarchies; it rushed in and filled a vacuum. Bossism in the USA was a reaction to the nation's urbanization. To a great extent it was an opportunity spawned by the chaos resulting from unprecedented rapid urban growth that overwhelmed systems.

While they are similar, fascism and bossism are not exactly the same thing and Trump doesn't know or care much about ideology. However, just like Johnny Rocco, the gangster, played by Edward G. Robinson, in "Key Largo" (1948), Trump always wants more and he will never get enough.

But like most machine bosses and mobster top dogs, Trump's power stems entirely from the loyalty he commands. Unravel that factor and without his stooges to prop him up, Trump will start to melt like a wicked witch in a water balloon battle. 

The stunning 8-to-1 loss Trump just suffered at the hands of the Supreme Court was a balloon burst in his face. Now the most important job of the Justice Department and the January 6th Committee is to focus on dismantling the Trump Machine. 

Pronto! 

-- Words and art by F.T. Rea

-- 30 --