Well, hello, America. Guess you’re all pro-Trump after all, eh?
Growing up with Russian roots, the current moment in American politics feels all too familiar. Throughout my life, I’ve been confronted with comments like, “Oh, you’re Russian? So you must support Putin, right?” or, “You voted for him, so you’re pro-war, pro-dictatorship, and part of the problem.” I’ve been told that “all Russians are bad” because we “chose this leader,” and that we “deserve the consequences.” More recently, I even heard someone claim that “the world would be better if Putin was killed.” When I expressed my doubts and that things are little bit more complicated than that, the person looked at me with sadness and said, “So you’re a Putin supporter after all.” It’s ironic, especially since I’ve only visited Russia a couple of times, spent most of my life in Denmark, and many Russians themselves would consider me “non-Russian.”. This tendency to reduce people to their leaders is not limited to Russia or the U.S.; it’s a global issue, where political divides often overshadow the real experiences and perspectives of individuals.
Now, here we are, watching America grapple with its own political divide as Trump holds a spotlight once again. So, let me ask this: if I’ve been labeled pro-Putin simply for being Russian, is every American now pro-Trump? Many people I know would find this idea absurd and offensive.
The answer is, of course, no. We can’ think this way. This is a mental shortcut, a way to assign blame without questioning the complexities of individual belief. Or does that logic only apply to certain countries?
But look, I get it: making these leaps is easier than trying to understand people’s real stories or the often-fraught dynamics between a country and its leaders. But this view misses the complexities and nuances that actually shape our world. No one should be reduced to the policies of their country’s ruling party, no matter how loud those leaders are.
Let’s talk plainly: if you are a citizen of country X ruled by man Y (because reality is that it’s a man anyways), it doesn’t mean you hold all that leader’s views, nor that you have the power to unilaterally alter them. But oversimplification is easy, isn’t it? It’s easier to blame entire populations for what we dislike in their leaders than it is to understand their social, economic, and political landscapes. Or the reasons for why they voted for this person first place.
Recently, a friend of mine posted a thread criticizing Trump voters, calling them “dumb” and labeling Trump himself a clown. Now, I happen to have several people in my network who voted for Trump — coming from a range of backgrounds. Some are from upper-class families, others from different parts of the country, but one thing is certain: none of them would ever want to engage in a conversation with my friend, the one who called them “clowns.”
This situation got me thinking: my friend would never understand why someone would vote for Trump because by calling them “idiots” or “clowns,” they’re effectively shutting down any chance for meaningful dialogue. This isn’t just a matter of disagreeing with political views; it’s about disregarding the humanity of others and rejecting the possibility of learning from them. If we only see people through the lens of labels, we lose sight of their unique experiences, struggles, and points of view.
It’s a microcosm of the larger issue we face globally — our politics are increasingly polarized, and instead of seeking understanding, we often default to dismissing the “other” as ignorant, dumb or wrong. This approach isn’t just unproductive; it perpetuates division. It creates echo chambers where we surround ourselves with only like-minded people and avoid any uncomfortable conversations.
If there’s anything I’d like to ask, it’s for a pause. A shift away from judging nations as monolithic blocks of belief toward seeing the realities of individual people navigating those systems. These aren’t issues that are “easy” to understand or solve, but that doesn’t make them any less real. The truth is that all of us are far more complex than the flags we happen to live under — and it’s high time we stop reducing each other to them.
Especially now, especially today, as we witness the cracks in our political and social systems, it’s clear how much we need nuanced conversations — ones that acknowledge complexity rather than reducing people to simplistic labels. These types of snap judgments are, honestly, boring. They don’t foster real dialogue or understanding; instead, they breed division and hate. And in a world as interconnected as ours, where we face challenges that demand collective solutions, can we afford to waste our time on this narrow-minded view?
There’s so much more we could discuss — values, systems, and the ways people actually experience life under different regimes. But that requires moving beyond the easy labels that are convenient to wield and harmful to hold. Can we try, even just a little, to make room for complexity in each other? It’s exhausting to keep playing by rules that only divide us, and maybe, just maybe, we’re ready for something deeper and more meaningful.
The world is complicated, and so are we. Let’s talk about it.
