The Hour of Decisions - and of Doubt

America votes - and yet it is not just about the candidates. It is about the condition of a nation that, since Donald Trump’s return to the White House, has turned into a mixture of dominance, fear, and fatigue. For the first time since his reelection, the United States goes to the polls to choose governors, mayors, and judges - and in almost every race, the shadow of the president is palpable, even where he does not appear at all. The eyes are focused above all on Virginia and New Jersey, the only states electing governors this year. Both were once considered safe Democratic territory, yet both have a tradition of swinging to the right in off years. In Fairfax, Richmond, and New Brunswick, the signs of both worlds stand side by side - on one side the blue banners of Abigail Spanberger and Mikie Sherrill, on the other the red flags of Winsome Earle-Sears and Jack Ciattarelli. It is a struggle for political balance, but even more for the interpretation of the moment.

Trump himself has not set foot in these states. He remains in Washington, letting his voice carry through teleconferences and video appearances, as if he were already more symbol than politician. But his agenda, his language, his threats shape everything. The Republican candidates adorn themselves with his name as if it were a seal of loyalty - even though the president barely mentioned Earle-Sears and praised Ciattarelli only in a passing remark. For them, proximity to power is enough. A victory would be seen as a confirmation of his policies; a defeat as the first sign that his spell may be starting to crack. The Democrats hope for that fracture - yet they are divided on how to achieve it. In Virginia and New Jersey, they are betting on moderation, on familiar biographies meant to inspire trust rather than euphoria. Mikie Sherrill, once a Marine helicopter pilot, and Abigail Spanberger, a former CIA officer, embody pragmatism and discipline. They avoid Trump’s name, speak of food prices, rents, and health insurance. They do not want to provoke but to win back - the trust of the center that was lost in the years of anger.

Completely different is the scene in the north: In New York, where history always sounds louder than elsewhere, Zohran Mamdani carries the dream of most Democrats into the arena. The 34-year-old legislator, son of Ugandan parents, Muslim, socialist, wants to become mayor of a city that rarely hesitates to love extremes. His speeches sound of justice and insistence: free childcare, free public transport, higher taxes for the rich. For some he is the future, for others a risk. Trump has attacked him almost daily, calling him “the disaster New York deserves,” and finally turned to an old rival: Andrew Cuomo.

Cuomo, once governor, then deposed, is running as an independent, with the aura of a man who has outlived himself. “Whether you like him or not,” Trump wrote on the eve of the election, “you have no choice - you have to back him.” It was a poisoned compliment, meant to weaken Mamdani and legitimize Cuomo’s return at once. The Republican Curtis Sliwa remains the outsider, more memory than hope, yet he could become the deciding factor if votes split between the other two camps.

Meanwhile, the country is at a standstill. For more than a month, the government has been paralyzed - another shutdown, this time deep and merciless. More than two million federal employees feel the consequences, many without pay, many without security. In Virginia, where more than 130,000 people work for the federal government, the political conflict has become a personal burden. In New Jersey, more than 20,000 find themselves torn between loyalty and anger. Millions of families are losing access to food assistance through the SNAP program, and in the lines outside the food banks one feels what Washington ignores: that the crisis has long since reached the refrigerator.

Trump presents himself as a reformer of institutions, calling for the abolition of the filibuster rule in the Senate to be able to “finally govern again.” Yet even in his own party, that is seen as risky. His opponents see in it an attempt to undermine the separation of powers once and for all. While New Jersey and Virginia count their votes, California decides on the redrawing of its electoral districts. Governor Gavin Newsom, ambitious, strategic, perhaps a presidential contender himself for 2028, seeks through Proposition 50 to reshape Congress - five additional seats for the Democrats as a counterweight to Republican redistricting in Texas. It is a quiet power struggle over maps, lines, and seats - and thus over the future of the House of Representatives.

In Pennsylvania, meanwhile, the independence of the judiciary is at stake. Three Supreme Court judges must face a retention vote. No party name on the ballot, only a simple yes or no - yet behind the scenes millions are flowing. More than 15 million dollars in campaign funds, a record for judges. The verdict emerging from these elections will determine the fate of voting districts, mail-in ballots, and perhaps the presidency of 2028. Above all this lies the question of whether Trump’s political realignment endures. His victory in 2024 shifted the map: union members, young men, many Black and Latino voters turned toward him. In New Jersey, his deficit shrank from 16 points (2020) to less than six. Yet the base that carried him remains fickle. Workers who followed him out of defiance often stay home when he himself is not on the ballot.

In recent days, Barack Obama has joined the campaign - as the voice of memory. He spoke in Virginia and New Jersey, urging participation, belief in democracy, belief in the strength of institutions. His appearance was a contrast to Trump’s remote control of politics - two presidents, one former, two worlds. And so this day stands for more than just regional elections. It is a test of whether Trump’s power has transferred from the person to the system - and whether the Democrats, after years of defensive battles and little courage, can once again find a sense of their own language. Between Brooklyn and Richmond, between Newark and Los Angeles, it will be decided whether America still has the strength to correct itself - or whether it has long since learned to live with its own inner emptiness.