Donald Trump tapping into xenophobia that's un-American and uniquely American.

As Donald Trump made his fascist impulses explicit, calling for a ban on Muslims entering the United States, I sat in a cocoon of righteous reflection at a Ford Foundation convening on “Rights Now: Reimagining Justice for the 21st Century,” listening to civil-rights leaders and thinkers, including U.S. Rep. John Lewis, Demos President Heather McGhee, and Dream Defenders founder Umi Selah sketch a new movement for a new century.

Sheltered from the storm, I came home to find cable shows preempting their regular programming to broadcast yet another terrifying Trump stem-winder, in which he railed against Muslims, expelled another Black Lives Matter protester and derided the reporters covering his campaign as “slime” and “scum.” Having spent the day as I did, it was particularly scary. But it was scary to me not because I think Trump’s brutal xenophobia represents a tragic break with American history; it has been a regular feature of our past, only this time it’s amplified by 24/7 news coverage and blaring social media.

The American story isn’t one of constantly welcoming newcomers and extending them rights; it’s consistently doubting, screening, blocking and sometimes trying to ban those newcomers. A country founded on an ideal of unity and pluralism has in fact always been obsessed with the question of who is really American, and who is a threat.

In a fascinating conversation on voting rights with former Attorney General Eric Holder, The Nation’s Ari Berman reminded us that despite the frequent assertion that American history shows steady progress in extending the vote to more and more Americans, that only occurred as the result of struggle, some of it bloody.

We are still answering the question of whether a nation explicitly founded on racial hierarchy can be redeemed from that original sin; whether the “arc of history” bends toward justice, or whether it has broken, or maybe has to break, to let a new trajectory be shaped. “A nation of ancestral strangers,” McGhee reminded us, “has to find connection every day.” There have been many days we have failed to do so, not just since the tragic presidential candidacy of Donald Trump.

I came home and watched Trump rail against Muslims – and against his presidential rivals, in both parties, who aren’t tough enough to fight them. The worst part wasn’t Trump’s rhetoric, it was the lusty cheers of the adoring crowd. When Trump attacked NBC’s Katy Tur by name – a diligent reporter who’s covered him more than fairly – I shuddered for her, and wondered about the judgment of all the networks that interrupted news programming to beam this fascist message into our homes.

When I woke up, there he was again, breaking the rules of television by phoning into at least four morning shows. I imagined the candidate sitting in his bathrobe in a trashy-opulent Trump hotel, picking at his lavish breakfast tray as he chatted up CNN’s Chris Cuomo. Other guests have to get up early, gulp their morning coffee, get themselves nicely coiffed and dressed. But hosts don’t require that of Trump anymore, not even on the once-prestigious Sunday shows. Fox put on the screen what looked like a Trump publicity still; CNN projected a photo of him looking positively impish.

Then on MSNBC’s Morning Joe, the unthinkable happened: Host Joe Scarborough cut to a break when Trump refused to answer questions. But it was just a few minutes in the timeout corner. When he returned, Trump dutifully fielded queries about his proposed Muslim ban. He wouldn’t include American citizens who are Muslims. It wouldn’t apply to Muslim non-citizens coming to attend “sporting events” (!) It would have to be enforced by customs agents asking people to declare their religion, Trump allowed, since passports and visas don’t record a traveler’s faith, or lack thereof. It wouldn’t be permanent; just until the country figures out how bad the Muslim menace really is. When the ban will end will be a matter of “a feel and a touch,” he told us.

Yes, it’s preposterous. And dangerous. Some of the GOP candidates even denounced Trump’s plan, but it’s too late for reason. Besides, his voters love this stuff. He unveiled his Muslim ban in South Carolina, the first state to secede from the Union, on the battleship USS Yorktown, on the anniversary of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. All of the meanings were clear.

Every time we think Trump’s hit bottom, he finds a new bottom. But I was well-prepared for this. When you spend the day with John Lewis, you can’t throw up your hands in disgust and futility. This is in fact an old fight, and pretending it’s something new keeps us from recognizing its power – and, I hope, ours. 

Joan Walsh is The Nation’s national affairs correspondent.