For all his faults and hubris, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy possesses one unmistakable quality: courage.
That became apparent during a memorable moment more than three years ago when Russia launched its invasion of Ukraine.
A foreboding, endless column of Russian tanks and other armoured vehicles had breached the border in a pincer pattern.
In the halting face of such an intimidating display of overwhelming force, defeat seemed close by.
Kyiv looked bound to fall. Zelenskyy and company would be arrested or killed as a lethal exclamation point while Russian President Vladimir Putin installed a puppet regime to bow and obey.
The comedian turned unlikely wartime leader did not flinch. He stood his ground – on the sacred soil of Ukraine.
To reassure fretful Ukrainians, Zelenskyy posted a short video on social media featuring himself surrounded by several solemn-looking officials and cabinet ministers.
“The president is here,” he said. “We are all here … defend[ing] our independence.”
I was reminded of that remarkable scene while I read accounts over the past few months from a disparate group of Americans, including artists and academics, departing their beloved homeland in the distressing wake of President Donald Trump’s jarring return to the Oval Office.
Before I continue, I am obliged to make two instructive points.
First, by invoking Zelenskyy’s vow to remain in Ukraine despite the ominous risks, I do not mean to imply that enlightened Americans opting to forgo living and working in the United States, lack courage.
Far from it.
Each of us has confronted or will confront in due course a defining dilemma: to stay or to go.
Answering the prickly question can stir doubt and anxiety. Making a choice, regardless of the direction, is a bold act. It takes resolve to exchange the familiar for the unknown.
Second, I have avoided the word “flee” to describe why some Americans choose to emigrate due to Trump’s egregious modus operandi. “Flee” evokes impulsive panic or self-preservation, rather than thoughtful, deliberate decision-making.
Still, Zelenskyy offers a compelling example of why it is necessary to stay instead of escaping to Canada or Europe when a bully threatens the values and principles that you hold dear – fairness, truth, empathy, tolerance, justice, diversity, and intelligence.
So, enlightened Americans, I urge you to insist like Zelenskyy: We are all here.
Your presence in America to fight for its promise is a duty and responsibility.
Together, you can fashion a formidable, immovable buttress against the wretched aspects of Trumpism – its assault on facts, erosion of democratic norms, embrace of authoritarianism, and corrosive pursuit of division and fear.
This contest cannot be won remotely – far from the epicentre of the urgent battle. It has to be fought face-to-face with an uncompromising adversary and hand-in-hand with other enlightened Americans, thin on the privileges and resources that have enabled your exit.
Trumpism thrives when opposition retreats. Absence creates space for extremism to entrench itself even more deeply and widely into America’s already frayed and discordant fabric. Withdrawal only comforts the Trumpists determined to quash dissent and erase resistance through edicts, threats, and coercion.
Leaving can also be seen as an admission of defeat – a concession that an angry, ruptured country is beyond redemption or salvation.
Dynamic governance is not self-sustaining; it requires citizens to keep up the struggle, particularly when it is trying. By forsaking the arena, some enlightened Americans forfeit their ability to shape the present and the future.
In contrast, standing with and by enlightened Americans remaining behind, confirms that America belongs to all its people, not just the cartoonish characters shouting the loudest or demanding the most attention.
Trump welcomes the idea of disheartened Americans building new lives in new places because he is president. It is, I suspect, a point of pride since it suggests his vindictive agenda is working.
For Trump, the exodus of “liberal elites” or “out-of-touch” entertainers is proof that the old establishment, never subscribers to his jejune notion of America’s “greatness”, is being replaced by “authentic” patriots.
This response is, of course, symptomatic of Trump’s broader political strategy – drawing a Berlin-Wall-like line between “real” Americans – his supporters – and everyone else.
By celebrating the phenomenon of Americans parting in protest, he promotes the insidious attitude that protest is not an essential ingredient of a mature, confident nation, but a form of disloyalty.
Trump is not interested in unity or persuasion. As such, he frames his presidency as a litmus test of fidelity. If you don’t worship him, you’re encouraged to join the despondent diaspora – and, in his jaundiced view, good riddance.
Despite their arguments and reservations about resettling to avoid the depressing capitulation of major law firms, universities, and corporate media, Americans face an uncomfortable truth: walking out won’t help drive change.
Scholars and intellectuals with the mettle and means to challenge obstinate power should rejoin the fight where it counts: in classrooms, on airwaves, in town halls.
Declarations from abroad, however poignant, are not substitutes for showing up, time and again, in person to remind America that kindness, resiliency, and decency matter.
Trumpism thrives on spectacle, and few understand the potency of spectacle better than celebrities.
Many bidding America adieu did so defiantly, wielding a righteous pulpit from foreign shores. Even so, symbolism without substance is hollow.
Returning means tackling – head-on – the mess, the contradictions, the tarnished ideals of a battered nation still worth the imagination and effort.
Public figures ought to leverage their popular platforms not just to condemn, but to galvanise, to convey resistance not as elitist scorn but as shared obligation. That would impress more than a pointed opinion column in the New York Times or a thread of disparaging tweets ever could.
Zelenskyy knows that hard work is always done on the ground. This is where returnees can make a tangible difference – not as saviours parachuting in, but instead as allies to like-minded collaborators who do that hard work without notice or applause.
Trumpism may be ascendant, but it is not invincible. What it fears most is solidarity that bridges class, race, and background – solidarity that declares that America is not Donald Trump’s to disfigure or define.
The bruised and disillusioned exiles can reclaim their rightful place in that grave fray – if they come home.
The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial stance.
