Opinion by
Jennifer Rubin
Columnist
Today at 8:00 a.m. EDT
This essay was adapted from the book “Resistance: How Women Saved Democracy from Donald Trump” by Jennifer Rubin. Copyright 2021 by Jennifer Rubin. William Morrow/HarperCollins Publishers.
Donald Trump’s victory in 2016 came as a shock to Republican-leaning women like me who had crossed party lines to vote for Hillary Clinton.
I had always voted Republican for president — from my first vote, for Ronald Reagan, to my last, for Mitt Romney. I admired mainstream Republicans who were dedicated to victory in the Cold War. I looked to free markets for expanded economic opportunity and embraced free trade and robust legal immigration.
If I differed with “movement conservatives” on some issues, I appreciated their preference for incrementalism and resistance to allowing centralized power to bigfoot the “laboratories of democracy.” I shared their wariness that the executive branch had aggrandized power at the expense of Congress. And I held the deep conviction that character matters in leaders, that public virtue is not an oxymoron and that truth is not relative.
Given that I actually believed in these things, I watched in horror in 2016 as Republicans embraced a racist bully bent on undermining our democracy and promoting White Christians’ quest for political dominance. I witnessed one conservative “intellectual” and “respectable” publication after another deny, then rationalize, then defend and then laud a detestable figure who repudiated principles and positions that once animated them.
I saw social conservatives who demonized Bill Clinton swoon at the feet of a serial liar, adulterer and racist whose cruelty became a central feature of his presidency. Republicans who once insisted character was a critical factor in selecting leaders seemed almost giddy when Trump unleashed his personal viciousness on their progressive opponents.
Submit a question or comment for Jennifer Rubin's upcoming live chat
Indeed, I had experienced Trump’s misogynistic wrath myself. In December 2015, I wrote a column for The Post in reaction to his taunting demand that CNN pay $5 million to charity in exchange for his appearance at a Republican presidential debate. Of Trump’s attempts at a shakedown, I wrote: “That would give Trump, who has done worse in each successive debate, an excuse to beg off. Why is he scared of debating his competitors?” I suggested that he couldn’t speak cogently on substantive issues, “especially foreign policy, where he has blundered in the past.”
This evidently struck too close to home. Trump tweeted, “Highly untalented Wash Post blogger, Jennifer Rubin, a real dummy, never writes fairly about me. Why does Wash Post have low IQ people?” This tweet instantly made me a target of his base, many of whom hurled vulgar insults by email and social media. The hate email and tweets, often threatening and antisemitic, were a preview of what was to come for me and for scores of women when MAGA’s cult of toxic masculinity implicitly encouraged its devotees to harass and threaten critics of its leader.
For months, I harbored some hope that Republicans would come to their senses and deny Trump the nomination. That fantasy faded with each primary victory. With no hesitation, I concluded I could not remain in a party that embraced a character so at odds with American (let alone conservative) values. In May 2016, I wrote a column “breaking up” with the GOP. I wrote it because I was still “a believer in America’s ability and obligation to do good in the world; in the wonders of the free market — including free trade and legal immigration; in limited but energetic government (although not all centralized at the federal level); and in the rule of law and individual rights” and I could no longer remain in a party warped by Trumpism. I took a step that permanently severed my bonds with many past allies.
Later that year, I cast my first presidential vote for a Democrat. Like most voters, I never expected Hillary Clinton would lose. The outcome left me gobsmacked and despondent. But I also did not expect that millions of women shared my sense of dread and disorientation. The 2016 election would spawn a new spirit of resistance to a party that abandoned loyalty to the country, the Constitution and the truth.
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Jennifer Rubin
Columnist
Today at 8:00 a.m. EDT
This essay was adapted from the book “Resistance: How Women Saved Democracy from Donald Trump” by Jennifer Rubin. Copyright 2021 by Jennifer Rubin. William Morrow/HarperCollins Publishers.
Donald Trump’s victory in 2016 came as a shock to Republican-leaning women like me who had crossed party lines to vote for Hillary Clinton.
I had always voted Republican for president — from my first vote, for Ronald Reagan, to my last, for Mitt Romney. I admired mainstream Republicans who were dedicated to victory in the Cold War. I looked to free markets for expanded economic opportunity and embraced free trade and robust legal immigration.
If I differed with “movement conservatives” on some issues, I appreciated their preference for incrementalism and resistance to allowing centralized power to bigfoot the “laboratories of democracy.” I shared their wariness that the executive branch had aggrandized power at the expense of Congress. And I held the deep conviction that character matters in leaders, that public virtue is not an oxymoron and that truth is not relative.
Given that I actually believed in these things, I watched in horror in 2016 as Republicans embraced a racist bully bent on undermining our democracy and promoting White Christians’ quest for political dominance. I witnessed one conservative “intellectual” and “respectable” publication after another deny, then rationalize, then defend and then laud a detestable figure who repudiated principles and positions that once animated them.
I saw social conservatives who demonized Bill Clinton swoon at the feet of a serial liar, adulterer and racist whose cruelty became a central feature of his presidency. Republicans who once insisted character was a critical factor in selecting leaders seemed almost giddy when Trump unleashed his personal viciousness on their progressive opponents.
Submit a question or comment for Jennifer Rubin's upcoming live chat
Indeed, I had experienced Trump’s misogynistic wrath myself. In December 2015, I wrote a column for The Post in reaction to his taunting demand that CNN pay $5 million to charity in exchange for his appearance at a Republican presidential debate. Of Trump’s attempts at a shakedown, I wrote: “That would give Trump, who has done worse in each successive debate, an excuse to beg off. Why is he scared of debating his competitors?” I suggested that he couldn’t speak cogently on substantive issues, “especially foreign policy, where he has blundered in the past.”
This evidently struck too close to home. Trump tweeted, “Highly untalented Wash Post blogger, Jennifer Rubin, a real dummy, never writes fairly about me. Why does Wash Post have low IQ people?” This tweet instantly made me a target of his base, many of whom hurled vulgar insults by email and social media. The hate email and tweets, often threatening and antisemitic, were a preview of what was to come for me and for scores of women when MAGA’s cult of toxic masculinity implicitly encouraged its devotees to harass and threaten critics of its leader.
For months, I harbored some hope that Republicans would come to their senses and deny Trump the nomination. That fantasy faded with each primary victory. With no hesitation, I concluded I could not remain in a party that embraced a character so at odds with American (let alone conservative) values. In May 2016, I wrote a column “breaking up” with the GOP. I wrote it because I was still “a believer in America’s ability and obligation to do good in the world; in the wonders of the free market — including free trade and legal immigration; in limited but energetic government (although not all centralized at the federal level); and in the rule of law and individual rights” and I could no longer remain in a party warped by Trumpism. I took a step that permanently severed my bonds with many past allies.
Later that year, I cast my first presidential vote for a Democrat. Like most voters, I never expected Hillary Clinton would lose. The outcome left me gobsmacked and despondent. But I also did not expect that millions of women shared my sense of dread and disorientation. The 2016 election would spawn a new spirit of resistance to a party that abandoned loyalty to the country, the Constitution and the truth.
ADVERTISING