In 1989, Francis Fukuyama proclaimed the “end of History.” With the collapse of the Soviet Union and the “triumph” of the Western liberal model, we were, according to the author, witnessing the culmination of humanity’s ideological evolution. Liberal democracy and capitalism had won — and the future would simply be the peaceful management of that consensus.
What we see today is not the pacification of History, but rather its rebirth in disturbing forms. Democratic freedom is at risk — and, ironically, not at the hands of foreign totalitarian regimes, but through internal forces that erode it with great efficiency: populism, revisionism, nationalism, and authoritarianism. And no symbol illustrates this better than the recent controversy at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History.
The decision to temporarily remove references to Donald Trump’s two impeachments from the exhibition The American Presidency: A Glorious Burden is an alarming symptom. Pressured by accusations of bias and the ongoing culture war promoted by Trump, the museum revised its displayed historical content — eliminating, albeit briefly, one of the most significant chapters of the contemporary presidency.
The official explanation for the removal — supposedly driven by technical criteria for updating and presentation — is hard to accept when placed in the broader context of Trump’s troubled relationship with the Smithsonian itself. This year, Trump issued an executive order criticising the National Museum of African American History and Culture for promoting a “divisive, race-focused” ideology. Shortly afterwards, he personally attacked Kim Sajet, director of the National Portrait Gallery, accusing her of being “highly partisan” and an advocate of diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) policies, which led to her dismissal. Furthermore, under pressure from the White House, the Smithsonian began a comprehensive review of content and staff across all its institutions, and weeks later — coincidentally or not — the mentions of Trump’s two impeachments disappeared from the exhibition. The removal is both factual and symbolic — and deeply revealing.
It is irrelevant whether or not there was a direct order from the White House. The problem is not formal, it is structural. When public institutions, which should be guardians of collective memory, feel the need to self-censor to avoid political reprisals, the battle is almost lost. The notion that a president can rewrite his own mistakes by erasing them from museums is worthy of authoritarian regimes.
Fukuyama predicted resistance: nationalisms, fundamentalisms, authoritarianisms. But he believed none would be strong enough to propose a viable alternative to “democratic liberalism.” What he perhaps did not foresee is that these forces would not need to create a new model — it would be enough to sabotage memory, distort the narrative, and dominate symbols.
Donald Trump is not an accident. He is the most visible symptom of a deeper erosion: of trust in institutions, of the separation of powers, of civic culture. By promoting a revisionist view of History — whether in museums, universities, or the media — Trump is rewriting the very idea of public truth.
This is where the “end of History” reveals itself as a dangerous illusion. History has not ended. It is being reopened — and it may well be written towards its opposite: not a triumph of freedom, but a calculated return to authoritarianism.
*Editor-in-chief of PLATAFORMA.
