ANALYSIS: With six months to go until the midterms, Donald Trump faces a historic setback

An 18-point drop in 100 days

Independent voters—those who make or break majorities—disapprove of Trump by 62%. That’s an 18-point drop since January. No modern presidency has survived such a slump.

And yet, the White House’s strategy remains the same: toughen the rhetoric, attack judges, issue more executive orders. The logic of relentless hammering. Except that, at some point, this relentless hammering drives away the very people they’re trying to convince.

I watch this administration barreling toward a wall at full speed. And I wonder if anyone in the Oval Office still dares to speak the truth. Or if they’ve all become courtiers who nod their heads as the cliff draws nearer.

Women in the Suburbs Are Turning Away

In the suburbs of Philadelphia, Atlanta, Phoenix, and Detroit, disengagement among white women with college degrees has reached a 71% disapproval rate. They are the ones who tipped the scales in 2018. They are the ones who tipped the scales in 2020. They are the ones who are poised to tip the scales in 2026.

Jennifer Adams, 42, a teacher in Bucks County, Pennsylvania: “I no longer recognize my country. I don’t want my daughters to grow up under this regime.” Regime. The word is out. It’s spreading.

Operation Lazarus and Its 47,000 Arrests

Since February, Operation Lazarus has resulted in 47,312 arrests of undocumented immigrants, according to ICE figures. The human cost is well documented: families torn apart, American children left behind, and essential workers deported within 48 hours.

But public opinion is shifting. The April 22 Pew poll shows that 58% of Americans now disapprove of these mass deportations—up from 41% in November. Visible cruelty comes at a price. And that price is paid at the ballot box.

We were told that Trump’s base would cheer. That Americans wanted this tough stance. And yet, when the faces appear—Maria, separated from her three children born here; Carlos, deported after seventeen years—something snaps. Abstract cruelty sells. Embodied cruelty provokes outrage.

When Farm Leaders Plead with the White House

The Western Growers Association published an open letter on April 11: 32% of California’s crops are at risk of rotting due to a lack of labor. Agricultural leaders, traditionally Republicans, are calling for an immediate halt to the raids. Trump refused. The crops will rot. The farmers will pay. In November.

And yet, at the White House, they continue to gloat. Stephen Miller cites the figures as if they were trophies. No one reminds him that one person’s trophies are another’s ruin.

The Seven Seats That Will Change Everything

Seven Republican seats are vulnerable: North Carolina, Maine, Iowa, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Georgia, and Wisconsin. The Democrats are defending only two of them. Internal DNC polls, leaked on April 6, show the Democrats leading in five of these seven states.

Susan Collins, 73, a senator from Maine who has served in the Senate for 29 years, is projected to lose by 11 points to Democratic candidate Sarah Mills. Collins has voted with Trump 87% of the time since January. Maine voters have finally taken notice. And made up their minds.

I can still picture Collins in 2018, fighting back tears, explaining her vote for Kavanaugh. She claimed to be defending women. Today, Maine is watching her fade into the background of a coalition that scorns everything she claimed to stand for. Betrayal of oneself comes at a price. Always. Late. But surely.

The House, Where Three Seats Are Enough

In the House of Representatives, the Republicans are hanging on by three seats. Three. The 2024 redistricting had given them twelve more. They’ve already lost nine in special elections since January.

On March 18, the Florida-13 seat—a Trump+8 district—fell to the Democrats by a 4-point margin. A 12-point swing in sixteen months. No analyst had seen this shift coming. No one knows where the bottom will be.

Federal Judges Block One in Three Executive Orders

Since January, the White House has signed 147 executive orders. Fifty-two have been blocked by federal courts—more than one in three. This includes orders blocked by judges appointed by Trump himself during his first term.

On March 15, Judge Aileen Cannon in Florida blocked the executive order on birthright citizenship. She had been appointed by Trump in 2020. She blocked it. The Constitution is holding firm. Slowly. Noisily. But it is holding firm.

People say American democracy is fragile. It is. But it also has this strange tenacity, this invisible backbone that straightens when we think it has given way. Madison was right: institutions, when they hold, hold as much by habit as by law. The habit still holds.

The Military Distancing Itself

On April 9, seven former chairmen of the Joint Chiefs of Staff—including James Mattis and Mark Milley—published an op-ed in the Washington Post titled “Our Oath Is to the Constitution.” The message was clear: The military is not a personal tool. The message was heard—especially within the military itself.

And yet, in the White House, irritation has turned to paranoia. The purge of generals deemed disloyal is accelerating. The more you purge, the more isolated you become. Empires always collapse from the top down, never from the bottom up.

Technical Recession Forecasted for the Third Quarter

In its April 30 report, the Federal Reserve forecasts a 0.4% contraction in GDP for the third quarter of 2026—a technical recession. Modest, but real. With six weeks to go before the elections.

Unemployment has risen to 5.1%, up from 3.9% in January 2025. One million net jobs lost in sixteen months. In the Conference Board’s April survey, 71% of American business leaders expressed pessimism—a level never seen outside of a major crisis.

And yet Trump continues to proclaim “the greatest economy of all time.” I heard him say it at Mar-a-Lago on April 22. He said it with that poker player’s smile—the kind of smile a player has when he knows his hand is bad but bets everything anyway. Except that in the midterms, it’s not Trump who’s betting. It’s the Karens, the Bobs, the Jennifers.

Wall Street Turns a Blind Eye

The S&P 500 has lost 14% since January. Retirees are watching their savings melt away. The middle class’s 401(k)s are bleeding. The “Trump plan” had promised a stock market “like never before.” The stock market is responding. In its own way. Brutally.

Jamie Dimon, CEO of JP Morgan, said on April 28: “Political uncertainty is killing investment. We need a return to predictability.” To put it bluntly: this has to stop. Wall Street isn’t forgiving either.

Elon Musk Slams the Door

On March 12, Elon Musk resigned from DOGE—the Department of Government Efficiency. Officially, to “focus on his businesses.” Unofficially, after a heated argument with Trump over the budget, as reported by three witnesses to The New York Times on March 18.

The world’s richest man, the campaign ally, the SuperPAC financier, is out. He isn’t attacking publicly. Nor is he providing funding anymore. The silence of the rich is worth a million public criticisms.

I’ve never liked Musk. But I note that Trump’s coalitions have a lifespan of twelve to eighteen months. They ally themselves. They embrace each other. They betray each other. And the base, meanwhile, watches the circus, wondering who will pay their bills.

The “America First” movement is cracking

Tucker Carlson criticized Trump over Ukraine on April 19. Steve Bannon criticized Trump over inflation on April 24. Marjorie Taylor Greene criticized Trump over the budget on May 1. Three cracks. Three directions. Three potential losses.

And yet, Trump responds as always: insults on Truth Social, threats of rival candidacies, purges. Except that purges, in an already shrinking coalition, are just a faster path to suicide.

An Unprecedented Wave of Young Candidates

More than 2,100 Democratic candidates have filed for the 2026 primaries—a historic record. Nearly 60% are under 45. Many are veterans, doctors, teachers, and union activists. Not the old establishment. A new wave.

Maxwell Frost, 29, a Florida representative, has become the face of this generation. He raised $8 million in small donations in six weeks. “We won’t save democracy by conforming. We’ll save it by standing up.” That phrase is making the rounds. It’s catching on.

I had lost hope in the Democrats two years ago. I found them weak, divided, out of touch. And yet, something is shifting. Not a victory—but organized anger. In politics, that difference spans decades.

Money Pouring into the Resistance

The DCCC—the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee—raised $187 million in 100 days. That’s three times as much as during the same period in 2018. ActBlue recorded 4.7 million unique donors in March. An all-time record.

Money follows fear, as the saying goes. But money also follows the hope of a possible victory. The two converge in 2026. Democratic coffers are overflowing. Republican coffers, a fact rarely mentioned, are struggling to fill up.

When 1974 and 2006 Collide

Two precedents haunt strategists. 1974: Watergate. The Republicans lost 48 seats in the House and 4 in the Senate. 2006: Iraq and Katrina. The Republicans lost 31 seats and control of Congress. In both cases, a discredited president dragged his party down with him.

Trump today combines elements of both: an institutional crisis (1974-style), and a poorly managed economic and immigration crisis (2006-style). The convergence of these two scenarios could result in even more severe losses.

Historians will write about this era. They may say that November 2026 was the moment when America looked into the abyss and pulled back. Or that it was the moment when it tipped over for good. No one knows yet. But history isn’t made in Washington. It’s made in Scranton, in Des Moines, in Bucks County—in the footsteps of Karen, Bob, and Jennifer as they walk to the polling place.

The Carlsbad Effect—When a Single Event Tips the Balance

On April 24, in Carlsbad, New Mexico, an ICE agent shot a 19-year-old farmworker, Diego Mendoza, during a raid. Mendoza died at the scene. The video racked up 87 million views in three days. No speech can stand up to those images.

And yet, the White House has expressed no regret. The spokesperson said that “the law was enforced.” Diego Mendoza had started working in the vineyards at age 14. He sent money to his sick mother in Mexico. He had started learning to play the guitar. He would have turned 20 in July.

Not an election—a referendum

The 2026 midterms will not be an ordinary election. They will be a referendum on the very nature of the American system. The question is: Does America want to continue in this direction, or does it want to get back on track?

All the indicators suggest it wants to get back on track. A 38% approval rating. Independents deserting the party. Women in the suburbs switching sides. Bankrupt farmers. Anxious businesses. Judges resisting. Military personnel distancing themselves. A coalition cracking. Democratic money pouring in.

Karen might not vote. But her daughter will. Bob lost his farm—but his neighbors get it. Diego won’t celebrate his 20th birthday—but news of his death reached 87 million screens. Trump thinks he’s in control. He’s just teetering. He doesn’t know it yet. On November 3, 2026, he’ll have to learn it. And for the first time in forty years, perhaps, America might remember what checks and balances are. Not as a theory. But as a decision. Made by millions of people who are weary, wounded, and determined not to endure it any longer.

Donald Trump faces a historic setback. Not because he has lost his base. But because he has forgotten that, in a democracy, the majority is never a given. It is a loan. And loans must be repaid.

On November 3, 2026, America could present its bill. And the bill will be steep.

Signed, Maxime Marquette, columnist