Over the past few years, I’ve spent a lot of time wondering if what we’re witnessing is actually Fascism. Since Trump’s ascent to power, the term has been bandied about, at times seeming like little more than a convenient slogan, a blanket term intended to imply any totalitarian movement. Although I have never supported this administration, I have hesitated—until now—to call this Fascism. I wanted to be sure that it was indeed an accurate description. My grandparents lived in Mussolini’s Italy, under a militaristic regime that successfully revised an entire nation’s moral language, causing reckless harm and undue trauma all along the way. To point the word at Trump, his administration, and the world in which we live would, it seemed to me, carry a grave responsibility.