History Has Its Eyes on Us: From Hamilton to Hitler to Trump’s America
When Lin-Manuel Miranda wrote Hamilton, he wasn’t just remixing history with hip-hop — he was holding up a mirror. A mirror that reflects how fragile freedom really is.
I didn’t fully understand that until I found myself standing on the beaches of Normandy, hand in hand with my 15-year-old son and my 75-year-old father, retracing my grandfather’s footsteps through Europe.
"Gold Beach" photo by Sabina Lorkin
Walking Through History
We started in London — my dad’s first trip there, my son’s too. Every tour, every stop was steeped in World War II. The Churchill War Rooms. The HMS Belfast. Bletchley Park — where the codebreakers cracked the Enigma machine.
Each site was a lesson in human resilience and horror. And at every stop, our tour guides — gentle, polite, informed — asked where we were from. When I’d say “California,” there was always a visible exhale, a subtle easing of tension.
You could feel it. A kind of global concern.
Because to Europeans, the rise of Trumpism — and the extremism behind Project 2025 — feels eerily familiar. They’ve seen what happens when democracies surrender to strongmen. When propaganda replaces truth. When citizens trade freedom for order.
The Ghosts Still Speak
Eighty years later, Europe still remembers. They’ve preserved the bombed-out buildings, the bunkers, the memorials. They don’t sanitize history — they showcase it, flaws and all.
In Germany, they don’t hide from the past. They teach it. They say: This happened. This is how it happened. Never again.
And yet… here we are, in 2025, watching the same storylines unfold in America.
✓ Access to books being restricted.
✓ Journalists labeled “the enemy of the people.”
✓ Immigrants demonized.
✓ Education and federal agencies threatened with “loyalty purges.”
It’s as if we learned nothing. Or worse — we forgot on purpose.
The Warning in Hamilton
Somewhere over the Atlantic, I rewatched Hamilton on the plane. And suddenly, its message hit differently.
Every lyric, every cabinet battle, every act of restraint was a flashing red light about the fragility of democracy.
When King George III croons “You’ll be back… to remind you of my love,” it’s hilarious — until you realize it’s not.
That’s how tyrants talk.
They confuse control for affection, obedience for devotion.
When Washington sings “One Last Time” — based on his real farewell address — he models something revolutionary: the peaceful transfer of power.
He steps down when he could have stayed.
He walks away from the throne that never was.
That’s what makes him extraordinary.
And that’s exactly what’s missing in today’s America.
Source: New York Theater, Hamilton on Broadway, March 2019
History Doesn’t Repeat, But It Rhymes
The parallels between 1930s Germany and modern America are impossible to ignore.
Hitler promised to “make Germany great again.”
He built his power on resentment, scapegoating, and myth.
He dismantled institutions slowly — legally — until there were no checks left.
Project 2025’s authors call it “unitary executive authority.” The Nazis called it Gleichschaltung — “coordination.”
Different words. Same playbook.
Replace independent thinkers with loyalists.
Control the story. Silence dissent.
Redefine truth until only one voice matters.
That’s how democracy dies — not with a bang, but with applause.
What Hamilton Got Right — and What We Must Remember
At the end of the musical, Eliza Hamilton steps forward and asks, “Who lives, who dies, who tells your story?”
That’s the most radical act in the show.
Because every dictator, every authoritarian, answers that question the same way: I do.
But Eliza refuses.
She builds schools. She writes. She preserves memory.
She insists on telling the story her way — truthfully, messily, completely.
That’s our task, too.
To remember. To teach.
To tell the story before someone else rewrites it.
The Republic Is Still Ours — For Now
Make it stand out
The founders wrote a system designed to resist kings. But systems don’t save us — people do.
Every time we vote.
Every time we speak out.
Every time we challenge disinformation or protect a teacher’s right to teach, we’re doing what Washington, Eliza, and Hamilton tried to preserve: the living experiment of democracy.
History has its eyes on us — not as spectators, but as participants.
So let’s keep the republic.
Let’s stay awake.
Let’s stay loud.
And for the love of every Broadway nerd, let’s not hand our democracy over to anyone wearing a crown — or even a red hat.
GO VOTE. (Check your voter registration status HERE.)
Watch the full Carrie On! episode on YouTube.
Listen to the episode on Apple Podcasts or Spotify.
Connect with Carrie on LinkedIn and Instagram.
Until next time, keep your head above the chaos and carry on.
xo,
Carrie
