America’s presidential election is a worldwide obsession—but inside the U.S., it’s become background noise that most citizens have tuned out.
America,
the land of the free and home of the brave, finds itself in an ironic twist:
its presidential election is a global headline, yet strangely muted at home.
While foreigners debate Kamala Harris versus Donald Trump as passionately as
they do their local football clubs, Americans seem as enthusiastic as someone
waiting for a root canal. It appears that the rest of the world is more
invested in the future of U.S. leadership than the Americans themselves—a
phenomenon as puzzling as it is telling.
Take
Europe, for example, where dinner table conversations are filled with heated
debates over Trump’s stance on immigration or Harris's strategies to combat
climate change. Foreign nations like Israel and India seem to have preferences
set, with polls indicating strong support for Trump over Harris in Israel,
while Indian Americans lean towards Harris, albeit less decisively than in
2020. Israeli voters favoring Trump at 66%, and 61% of Indian Americans backing
Harris, are statistics that paint an unusual portrait: the American election is
more "theirs" than "ours." It's almost as though the U.S.
election has turned into a global referendum on leadership, with America merely
providing the ballot box. It’s like planning a party for the neighbors but
forgetting to invite yourself.
Even
Africa is drawn into the mix. Economic migrants and asylum seekers from the
Democratic Republic of Congo and beyond find themselves gripped by anxiety as
the U.S. elections draw near. They fear the implications for immigration
policies—policies that have already caused significant tremors in the past.
Trump's family separation policy, for instance, drew global outrage but seems
to have faded into distant memory for most Americans, much like last year's
failed New Year’s resolutions.
The
curious part, though, is what’s happening—or not happening—inside the U.S. The
media landscape is dominated by divisive rhetoric, with each camp trying to
outdo the other in a desperate quest for relevance. Arnold Schwarzenegger
endorsing Harris and calling Trump "un-American," while Buzz Aldrin
endorses Trump for his "Space Force" policies, epitomizes the
schizophrenic nature of American politics. In any other scenario, the Space
Force endorsement might have been the stuff of science fiction, but this is the
2024 U.S. presidential election: a saga stranger than fiction. It’s a drama
that even Hollywood would shy away from scripting because it lacks a coherent
plot.
And
yet, as these endorsements from celebrities and former astronauts make
headlines globally, the average American is strangely detached. The
hyper-polarized atmosphere has turned politics into a theater where no one
wants to buy a ticket anymore, except, apparently, everyone outside the U.S.
Take Rahm Emanuel’s statement about the election mood: “Everybody’s just in a
pissed-off mood.” It's as if American citizens have collectively decided that
their democracy is someone else’s reality show, not worth the emotional
investment or the popcorn.
Another
curious point is the potential impact of this international focus. With nations
like Singapore eyeing U.S. leadership outcomes for strategic hedging in the
China-U.S. rivalry, and Europe practically salivating at the potential fallout
of a Trump or Harris presidency, it raises the question: does the U.S. still
decide its own destiny? Singapore’s strategic interests highlight a growing
pattern—nations across the globe are plotting their future trajectories based
on who leads the White House. This makes it a global chess game where every
other nation seems to have more at stake than the players themselves.
Fiona
Hill, a former Russia expert, provides a grim insight into this external
influence on American politics. Hill explains that Trump, Putin, and Elon Musk
are all engaging in conversations that seem to blur the line between
international alliances and good-old American electioneering. It’s an emerging
oligarchy, where decisions made by a few seem to wield more power than the
collective will of the American public. And the American public? They seem to
have taken the role of passive observers—resigned, indifferent, and most
dangerously, silent.
Meanwhile,
on Wall Street, Harris versus Trump is not just about politics; it's about the
market, about profits, and about which candidate will make those profit margins
swell. Wall Street, much like a swing state, has no loyalty beyond its
quarterly earnings reports. The volatility of the election isn’t an abstract
concept to global investors; it’s a reality that has billion-dollar
implications. Investors in Europe and Asia tune in, not merely out of
curiosity, but because what happens in the U.S. sends ripples through their
stock exchanges. But for the average American struggling with inflation or
healthcare, these Wall Street concerns are as distant as Pluto—just another
orbit in the financial universe they will never visit.
Biden’s
recent remarks about "garbage" and subsequent firestorm are a perfect
encapsulation of why Americans are tuning out. What might have been an
important discussion on campaign issues turned into a media circus, with Hill
Republicans and Democrats throwing verbal grenades at each other. It's not
surprising that Americans, tired of the endless cycle of scandal and
counter-scandal, have opted out. Yet, ironically, the rest of the world
continues to find these mudslinging contests fascinating. It’s almost as if
non-Americans see in U.S. elections a drama that brings meaning and excitement
to their otherwise ordinary lives. The stakes for them are existential; for
many Americans, it's just exhausting.
Even
the debate around abolishing the Electoral College has stirred more interest
internationally than domestically. If Trump wins the popular vote but loses due
to the Electoral College, as is speculated, it could very well fuel a movement
for reform. But this isn't news to most Americans. The Electoral College has
been a contentious issue since its inception, but reform has always stalled
amid partisan bickering. To many outside the U.S., this outdated system looks
like a relic of a bygone era, something akin to a monarchy’s unwritten
rules—amusing, but ultimately undemocratic.
To
top it off, international media are running commentary on how much U.S.
elections could reshape global alliances, trade deals, and military pacts, yet
most Americans remain blissfully ignorant. Harris trying to win over
Republicans in Arizona, or Tim Scott’s efforts to sway Black voters to Trump,
are stories that have captured attention across Europe and Africa. In America?
These are footnotes to the larger story of distrust, voter fatigue, and a
creeping sense of nihilism.
As
this circus unfolds, one can only wonder: Have Americans forgotten how much
power lies in their vote, or have they simply become numb to its significance?
As Singapore, Israel, and even African asylum seekers eagerly await the
outcome, many Americans seem to be sitting this one out. And if it continues
this way, perhaps next time America will hold an election that’s globally
televised but domestically forgotten—a national event that’s nobody’s party but
everybody’s problem.
After
all, the joke’s on us if the most talked-about U.S. election happens in every
country except its own.
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