In a recent CNN appearance, actress Jane Fonda unleashed a tirade against Democratic Party leaders, labeling them “not good enough” and decrying their failures in the face of what she perceives as existential threats from Donald Trump. She warned of Trump “amassing power in a way that will destroy our democracy,” invoking unsubstantiated claims about him sending troops into cities and attempting to control the Federal Reserve. Fonda positioned herself as a defender of democracy, promoting the relaunch of her father’s Cold War-era Committee for the First Amendment and touting her climate PAC as vehicles for change. But as she rallies “creatives and storytellers” to combat alleged repression, a deeper examination of Fonda’s background, actions, and opinions reveals a figure whose history is riddled with missteps, biases, and outright betrayals—making her arguably the least authoritative voice in today’s political discourse.
PJ Media: ‘Hanoi’ Jane Fonda Explodes Like Dynamite on Dem Leaders Losing to Trump
Actress “Hanoi” Jane Fonda blew a gasket this week during an appearance on CNN, where she went off on Democrat Party leaders for being “not good enough” while she spewed the same tired “Trump is authoritarian” nonsense she and the other left-wing “evangelists” in Hollywoke keep pushing.
Fonda was promoting the relaunch of her Committee for the First Amendment. Hollywood liberals birthed the organization during the Cold War in the late 1940s to fight the blacklisting that arose during the McCarthy era.
A liberal started a committee to allegedly promote the First Amendment even though someone on her side of the political divide recently killed a man in cold blood for exercising his right to free speech. Also, it’s conservatives in the entertainment industry who are often blacklisted and passed over for roles due to their political beliefs.
What, exactly, is Fonda aiming to accomplish with her committee other than virtue signaling and desperately attempting to become relevant again?
“No president has ever sent troops into the Democratic cities across the country saying full force,” Fonda remarked during the interview.
“No president, as far as I know, has tried to control the Federal Reserve, the central bank. He is amassing power in a way that will destroy our democracy. And so we‘re going to stand up. We‘re creatives. We‘re storytellers. We can do it creatively. We can have a good time while we do it,” she continued.
Born in 1937 into Hollywood royalty as the daughter of actor Henry Fonda, Jane Seymour Fonda rose to fame in the 1960s through films like *Barbarella* and *Klute*, earning two Academy Awards and establishing herself as a sex symbol turned serious performer. Her foray into political activism began amid the turbulence of the era, influenced by leftist intellectuals during time spent in France, where she embraced what she later called “small-c communism.” By the late 1960s, Fonda aligned with progressive causes, supporting the Civil Rights Movement, the occupation of Alcatraz by Native Americans, and the Black Panthers—whom she hailed as “our revolutionary vanguard” deserving of “love, money, propaganda, and risk.” This early activism set the stage for a lifetime of involvement in feminism, environmentalism, LGBTQ+ rights, and opposition to various wars, including Iraq.
Yet, Fonda’s activism is inseparable from profound controversies that have eroded her credibility. The most infamous—and enduring—stain on her record is the 1972 trip to North Vietnam during the height of the Vietnam War, which cemented her nickname “Hanoi Jane” among critics and veterans. Invited by the North Vietnamese government, Fonda toured bombed sites, broadcast anti-American messages over Hanoi Radio denouncing U.S. military policy, and infamously posed for photographs sitting on a North Vietnamese anti-aircraft gun—a weapon used to shoot down American pilots. These broadcasts included vivid descriptions of alleged U.S. atrocities, such as bombings of villages, hospitals, and schools, while she dismissed returning POWs’ accounts of torture as lies from “hypocrites and pawns.” The backlash was swift and severe: Many Americans, particularly veterans, viewed her actions as treasonous, aiding the enemy during wartime and demoralizing U.S. troops.
Fonda has since expressed regret over the anti-aircraft gun photo, calling it a “two-minute lapse of sanity” in her 2005 autobiography, but she has stood by her broader anti-war stance. This partial apology has done little to quell resentment. In 2005, a Navy veteran spat tobacco in her face at a book signing as a “debt of honor”; in 2011, QVC canceled her appearance due to viewer protests; and as recently as 2024, Los Angeles County’s attempt to declare “Jane Fonda Day” for her environmental work sparked outrage from Vietnamese American communities, forcing a date change to avoid coinciding with “Black April,” the anniversary of Saigon’s fall. These incidents underscore how her Vietnam-era choices continue to alienate large swaths of the public, casting doubt on her judgment and patriotism.
Beyond Vietnam, Fonda’s political opinions often veer into the extreme or inconsistent, further undermining her authority. In the 1970s, she co-founded anti-war groups and funded campaigns, but her support for revolutionary figures like Huey Newton of the Black Panthers—whose organization was embroiled in violence and FBI scrutiny—raised eyebrows about her associations. She predicted dire outcomes for the Iraq War in 2005, planning an anti-war bus tour that she abruptly canceled, citing personal reasons amid criticism. In more recent years, Fonda endorsed Bernie Sanders in 2020 as the “climate candidate,” criticized Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau for environmental “betrayals” in 2017, and signed onto AI safety initiatives in 2024. Her latest venture, relaunching the Committee for the First Amendment with A-list support, frames it as a bulwark against Trump-era “censorship threats”—yet critics point out the irony, given Hollywood’s history of blacklisting conservatives, a point echoed in analyses of her efforts as more virtue-signaling than substantive.
What makes Fonda particularly unqualified as a political commentator is her lack of formal expertise. She holds no degrees in political science, history, or international relations; her insights stem from celebrity privilege and personal anecdotes rather than rigorous analysis. Her claims, like those in her CNN rant about Trump’s unprecedented authoritarianism, often ignore historical context—such as presidents deploying federal forces in cities (e.g., during the 1960s civil unrest) or influencing economic institutions. Moreover, her history includes spreading misinformation: During Vietnam, she denied POW torture despite later evidence to the contrary, fueling perceptions of her as unreliable. At 87, as some observers note, her commentary may reflect age-related confusion, akin to public figures who’ve overstayed their prime.
Fonda’s activism, while passionate, is deeply partisan, often aligning with far-left causes without balanced critique. Her Hollywood Women’s Political Committee helped elect Democrats in the 1980s and ’90s, but dissolved amid internal strife. Today, as a “climate-change hero” among Democrats, she leverages her fame for arrests in protests—five in 2019 alone—but these stunts prioritize spectacle over substance. Veterans’ groups and conservative commentators have long lambasted her as a symbol of elite hypocrisy, with one 2012 list dubbing her Hanoi actions among her “top 10 mistakes.” French outlet Le Monde described her as perpetually controversial, from Hanoi to Hollywood, earning “the hatred of conservative America.”
In an era demanding credible voices amid polarized politics, Jane Fonda’s track record—marred by betrayal, exaggeration, and unyielding bias—renders her commentary not just unpersuasive but actively counterproductive. Her celebrity may amplify her message, but it cannot substitute for authority earned through expertise and integrity. As she “explodes like dynamite” on CNN, one must ask: Is this the sage we need, or merely a relic of past divisions?