No idea how this will turn out, but I love that McCarthy may not be speaker after groveling and selling his soul for the past 6 years.
******OFFICIAL GOP Civil War Thread*********
- Thread starter torbee
- Start date
That 10 million plus is his power. Because nobody, not Trump, not DeSantis, not even JFC himself wins without those 10 million in the red column. Now do I think he’d run 3rd party if he lost to DeSantis? Hell no—he knows he’d never win that and he’d never step into a sure loss, especially after “losing” in the primaries. But he’d do every fvcking thing he possibly could to make sure that DeSantis lost in the general election. The primary was stolen from me! Look at that loser, I’d be your president if I hadn’t had the nomination stolen! Establishment RINOs, blah blah blah! That 10 million would eat that shit up for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and do WHATEVER Der Fuhrer demanded. So that’s the GOP’s dilemma—damned if they do, damned if they don’t. Cause Donald Trump don’t give two shits about them, but they can’t win without him and his base. And it now appears as though winning WITH him is a sketchy proposition, to say the least.
Read an interesting article today comparing Trump to Teddy Roosevelt and how he sabotaged the GOP back in 1912. Claimed the nomination had been stolen from him by the incumbent and establishment Taft. He actually carried 3 times as many states (6) as the incumbent Taft (2) running as a 3rd party, but split the R’s 7 plus million votes in half compared with Wilson’s 6 million, paving the D’s path to unthinkable victory. The parallels are somewhat striking.
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Should I start popping popcorn now?
Unfortunately, the non-maga scum republicans have no spines.
It was never about economics with Trump.
www.theatlantic.com
theintercept.com
It Was Cultural Anxiety That Drove White, Working-Class Voters to Trump
A new study finds that fear of societal change, not economic pressure, motivated votes for the president among non-salaried workers without college degrees.
Time to Kill the Zombie Argument: Another Study Shows Trump Won Because of Racial Anxieties — Not Economic Distress
Three previous studies found a link between cultural anxiety and Trump voters. Now a fourth, from the Voter Study Group, finds the same connections.
theintercept.com
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- Sep 13, 2002
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Excellent read from The New Yorker:
By Jelani Cobb
November 15, 2022
In December, 1954, the United States Senate gathered for the purpose of censuring the junior senator from Wisconsin, Joseph McCarthy. During the preceding months, McCarthy, whose anti-Communist bromides had made him among the most feared and powerful figures in Congress, had suffered a calamitous decline in fortunes. He had been thoroughly humiliated in the nationally televised Army-McCarthy hearings and endured lacerating criticism from the journalist Edward R. Murrow. The once potent brand of innuendo, fearmongering, and outright lying that brought the senator to prominence was now the central reason for his rebuke.
The traditional narrative of McCarthy’s demise centers on the most visible and operatic moments, but there was also an underlying political logic that facilitated them. In 1950, when it was reported that McCarthy, a Republican, falsely claimed to have the names of two hundred and five Communists employed by the State Department, Democrats controlled both chambers of Congress and the White House. In 1954, when the Army-McCarthy hearings took place, Republicans controlled both the House and the Senate (narrowly) and the White House, under President Dwight D. Eisenhower. It was one thing to cast toxic conspiracies that made Democrats look bad, but quite another to spread falsehoods that made his own party look inept. In the end, twenty-two Republican senators voted in favor of censure.
Ever since Donald Trump emerged as a Presidential candidate, observers have compared him to McCarthy, not simply because of their demagogic commonalities and mutual ties to the attorney Roy Cohn but also for the hostile symbiosis they forged with the media outlets of their respective eras. The aftermath of last week’s midterm elections suggests an additional area of comparison: the narratives attached to their political declines. The G.O.P. has abided all manner of corrupt, dishonest, anti-democratic, and potentially illegal behavior from Trump, including his incitement of an armed insurrection against the United States Congress, but the lacklustre midterm performance of Republicans seems to suggest that, like McCarthy sixty-eight years ago, the former President has reached a point where his demagogy has become a liability for his own party.
Few are the demagogues noted for their superior emotional-regulation abilities, but even by that standard the reports that the former President Trump is alternately enraged and defensive over the results of the midterm elections are noteworthy. Not since his grudging exit from the White House in January, 2021, has he inspired such levels of Schadenfreude among his critics. This election—in which the Republicans picked up far fewer congressional seats than expected, the Senate remains in the hands of Democrats, and even those Trump-affiliated candidates who prevailed seemed to have done so against real political headwinds—is being read as a referendum on the dwindling viability of maga-style Republicanism, as well as on the former President’s prospects in 2024.
Republicans are, tentatively, distancing themselves from the Trump brand, and media observers have noted the stream of criticism emanating from Rupert Murdoch-owned news properties. The cumulative effect of these developments is a barely concealed hope that the G.O.P. will jettison Trump like loose cargo on a storm-battered freighter, and that the most volatile and dangerous elements of American politics will sink along with him. But, for reasons that should be more than familiar to us by now, the path the maga movement takes toward irrelevance is likely not so simple—if, in fact, it is headed in that direction.
In the seven years since Trump took his ride down the gold-colored escalator in Trump Tower to declare his candidacy for President of the United States, the movement that coalesced around him has died a thousand deaths, only to climb out of its shallow grave before the first trowel of dirt hit the casket. The political landscape in front of Trump is different and far more formidable than it was even in 2016, when he was a political novice.
Notable Presidents—Ulysses S. Grant and Eisenhower among them—had been elected without much political experience. But, in 2024, a prospective Trump would be attempting reëlection after having lost a Presidential election, a feat that only the Democrat Grover Cleveland achieved, in 1892, by defeating Benjamin Harrison, who was himself hobbled by divisions among Republicans. Moreover, in 2016, Trump sliced through a fairly unimpressive field of G.O.P. competitors in the primaries. This time, though, he could face a significant primary challenger, in the form of Florida’s governor, Ron DeSantis. All this seemingly points to the diminished viability of one of the most disruptive political movements we’ve seen in modern American history. Yet it’s worth thinking about what exactly Trumpism is and how it came to be before penning another potentially premature eulogy on its behalf.
t would be easy at this point to saddle Trump with all the ills and the disastrous implications of what we’ve come to refer to as “Trumpism.” But the most significant parallel between Trump’s careers in business and in politics is his lack of standing as a creator. His talent lies not in organizational leadership or in shepherding a novel concept from its inception to a place of prominence but, rather, in marketing. Trump emerged as a political force in the middle of the first Black Presidency and adroitly played to racist and xenophobic fears that attended Barack Obama’s election. He lied prolifically about Obama’s birth certificate. In early 2011, Trump claimed to have people looking into the matter, “and they cannot believe what they’re finding.” As with Trump’s other canards, he never actually said what these people—if they existed at all—were finding.
It should be recalled, however, that Trump did not invent birtherism; he simply recognized the broader political potential of a ridiculous lie and ran with it. Similarly, the phenomenon known as “McCarthyism” had roots that preceded the 1946 election that sent McCarthy to the Senate. Notably, the House Un-American Activities Committee, chaired by Representative Martin Dies, Jr., the Democrat of Texas, was formed a full decade earlier, and its combative use of Red-baiting innuendo against the subjects of its inquiries provided a template for McCarthy’s approach. Yet the disparate elements of intolerance for dissent, including the suppression of First Amendment rights, and the broader currents of social paranoia might have remained just that but for McCarthy’s ability to synthesize them into a cohesive whole.
The persecution associated with anti-Communism survived McCarthy. It took a series of Supreme Court decisions in 1957 and 1958—most notably the Yates v. United States ruling, which overturned the convictions of several Communists prosecuted under the Smith Act—to curtail the most egregious excesses committed in the name of patriotism. Trump did not single-handedly inject the strains of intolerance, racism, nativism, belligerence, and a durable sympathy for anti-democratic behavior into the Republican Party, and there is no reason to believe that his absence would cause them to evaporate. Immigrants make up just under fourteen per cent of the population of the United States—almost triple their proportion in 1970. The age-old fears about racial and ethnic replacement that Trump so deftly manipulated in 2016 remain ambient.
Moreover, the drive to curate the electorate via voter suppression has lost none of its resonance on the right. In fact, the razor-thin margins in last week’s elections point to the outsized effect that suppressing even a sliver of specific electorates can yield. And, paradoxically, the emerging audacity among right-wing media to criticize Trump points to how little has changed. Part of what has driven the Republican Party so far to the right has been the influence of these same conservative outlets, whose criticism can spark a primary challenge for Republicans deemed too moderate. They helped foster the environment in which Trumpism could not only emerge but thrive. If they play a role in undermining Trump, this serves to reinforce their role as the rudders of the G.O.P.
For critical observers, it has always been apparent that everything Trump offered the public came slathered in snake oil. That is either a statement about the willful blindness of the American public or a barometer of how many Americans view those dangerous liabilities as assets. In either case, the McCarthy example provides at least one other insight: fixating on the salesman misses the point. The problem is, and always has been, the size of the audience rushing to buy what he’s been selling. ♦
The Enduring Power of Trumpism
No matter what becomes of Donald Trump, the forces of intolerance, racism, and belligerence he harnessed in American politics will persist.By Jelani Cobb
November 15, 2022
In December, 1954, the United States Senate gathered for the purpose of censuring the junior senator from Wisconsin, Joseph McCarthy. During the preceding months, McCarthy, whose anti-Communist bromides had made him among the most feared and powerful figures in Congress, had suffered a calamitous decline in fortunes. He had been thoroughly humiliated in the nationally televised Army-McCarthy hearings and endured lacerating criticism from the journalist Edward R. Murrow. The once potent brand of innuendo, fearmongering, and outright lying that brought the senator to prominence was now the central reason for his rebuke.
The traditional narrative of McCarthy’s demise centers on the most visible and operatic moments, but there was also an underlying political logic that facilitated them. In 1950, when it was reported that McCarthy, a Republican, falsely claimed to have the names of two hundred and five Communists employed by the State Department, Democrats controlled both chambers of Congress and the White House. In 1954, when the Army-McCarthy hearings took place, Republicans controlled both the House and the Senate (narrowly) and the White House, under President Dwight D. Eisenhower. It was one thing to cast toxic conspiracies that made Democrats look bad, but quite another to spread falsehoods that made his own party look inept. In the end, twenty-two Republican senators voted in favor of censure.
Ever since Donald Trump emerged as a Presidential candidate, observers have compared him to McCarthy, not simply because of their demagogic commonalities and mutual ties to the attorney Roy Cohn but also for the hostile symbiosis they forged with the media outlets of their respective eras. The aftermath of last week’s midterm elections suggests an additional area of comparison: the narratives attached to their political declines. The G.O.P. has abided all manner of corrupt, dishonest, anti-democratic, and potentially illegal behavior from Trump, including his incitement of an armed insurrection against the United States Congress, but the lacklustre midterm performance of Republicans seems to suggest that, like McCarthy sixty-eight years ago, the former President has reached a point where his demagogy has become a liability for his own party.
Few are the demagogues noted for their superior emotional-regulation abilities, but even by that standard the reports that the former President Trump is alternately enraged and defensive over the results of the midterm elections are noteworthy. Not since his grudging exit from the White House in January, 2021, has he inspired such levels of Schadenfreude among his critics. This election—in which the Republicans picked up far fewer congressional seats than expected, the Senate remains in the hands of Democrats, and even those Trump-affiliated candidates who prevailed seemed to have done so against real political headwinds—is being read as a referendum on the dwindling viability of maga-style Republicanism, as well as on the former President’s prospects in 2024.
Republicans are, tentatively, distancing themselves from the Trump brand, and media observers have noted the stream of criticism emanating from Rupert Murdoch-owned news properties. The cumulative effect of these developments is a barely concealed hope that the G.O.P. will jettison Trump like loose cargo on a storm-battered freighter, and that the most volatile and dangerous elements of American politics will sink along with him. But, for reasons that should be more than familiar to us by now, the path the maga movement takes toward irrelevance is likely not so simple—if, in fact, it is headed in that direction.
In the seven years since Trump took his ride down the gold-colored escalator in Trump Tower to declare his candidacy for President of the United States, the movement that coalesced around him has died a thousand deaths, only to climb out of its shallow grave before the first trowel of dirt hit the casket. The political landscape in front of Trump is different and far more formidable than it was even in 2016, when he was a political novice.
Notable Presidents—Ulysses S. Grant and Eisenhower among them—had been elected without much political experience. But, in 2024, a prospective Trump would be attempting reëlection after having lost a Presidential election, a feat that only the Democrat Grover Cleveland achieved, in 1892, by defeating Benjamin Harrison, who was himself hobbled by divisions among Republicans. Moreover, in 2016, Trump sliced through a fairly unimpressive field of G.O.P. competitors in the primaries. This time, though, he could face a significant primary challenger, in the form of Florida’s governor, Ron DeSantis. All this seemingly points to the diminished viability of one of the most disruptive political movements we’ve seen in modern American history. Yet it’s worth thinking about what exactly Trumpism is and how it came to be before penning another potentially premature eulogy on its behalf.
t would be easy at this point to saddle Trump with all the ills and the disastrous implications of what we’ve come to refer to as “Trumpism.” But the most significant parallel between Trump’s careers in business and in politics is his lack of standing as a creator. His talent lies not in organizational leadership or in shepherding a novel concept from its inception to a place of prominence but, rather, in marketing. Trump emerged as a political force in the middle of the first Black Presidency and adroitly played to racist and xenophobic fears that attended Barack Obama’s election. He lied prolifically about Obama’s birth certificate. In early 2011, Trump claimed to have people looking into the matter, “and they cannot believe what they’re finding.” As with Trump’s other canards, he never actually said what these people—if they existed at all—were finding.
It should be recalled, however, that Trump did not invent birtherism; he simply recognized the broader political potential of a ridiculous lie and ran with it. Similarly, the phenomenon known as “McCarthyism” had roots that preceded the 1946 election that sent McCarthy to the Senate. Notably, the House Un-American Activities Committee, chaired by Representative Martin Dies, Jr., the Democrat of Texas, was formed a full decade earlier, and its combative use of Red-baiting innuendo against the subjects of its inquiries provided a template for McCarthy’s approach. Yet the disparate elements of intolerance for dissent, including the suppression of First Amendment rights, and the broader currents of social paranoia might have remained just that but for McCarthy’s ability to synthesize them into a cohesive whole.
The persecution associated with anti-Communism survived McCarthy. It took a series of Supreme Court decisions in 1957 and 1958—most notably the Yates v. United States ruling, which overturned the convictions of several Communists prosecuted under the Smith Act—to curtail the most egregious excesses committed in the name of patriotism. Trump did not single-handedly inject the strains of intolerance, racism, nativism, belligerence, and a durable sympathy for anti-democratic behavior into the Republican Party, and there is no reason to believe that his absence would cause them to evaporate. Immigrants make up just under fourteen per cent of the population of the United States—almost triple their proportion in 1970. The age-old fears about racial and ethnic replacement that Trump so deftly manipulated in 2016 remain ambient.
Moreover, the drive to curate the electorate via voter suppression has lost none of its resonance on the right. In fact, the razor-thin margins in last week’s elections point to the outsized effect that suppressing even a sliver of specific electorates can yield. And, paradoxically, the emerging audacity among right-wing media to criticize Trump points to how little has changed. Part of what has driven the Republican Party so far to the right has been the influence of these same conservative outlets, whose criticism can spark a primary challenge for Republicans deemed too moderate. They helped foster the environment in which Trumpism could not only emerge but thrive. If they play a role in undermining Trump, this serves to reinforce their role as the rudders of the G.O.P.
For critical observers, it has always been apparent that everything Trump offered the public came slathered in snake oil. That is either a statement about the willful blindness of the American public or a barometer of how many Americans view those dangerous liabilities as assets. In either case, the McCarthy example provides at least one other insight: fixating on the salesman misses the point. The problem is, and always has been, the size of the audience rushing to buy what he’s been selling. ♦
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FWIW, and for once, I actually agree with the talking head on Newsmax/OAN or whatever -- that NY Post stunt was bush league.
I just had a door canvasser come to my place for Herschel Walker. Woman in her 20s.
I normally when I open the door and see them, I just say "Thanks, no thanks" and shut the door, and as I was doing so she said "So you're not going to vote?" and as I was shutting the door I said "Nope."
But before I got the door shut, I decided to engage a little more, and opened the door up and said "Well, I'm not going to vote, but I do vote."
And she said "Just not for Walker? I get it."
And I said "Correct. And just so I'm perfectly clear...I mostly always vote Republican..."
Her: "...but not Walker. I hear you."
Me: "Or any of the Trump candidates."
Her: "Yep, I got you."
It was quite obvious she had heard that PLENTY of times so far.
I normally when I open the door and see them, I just say "Thanks, no thanks" and shut the door, and as I was doing so she said "So you're not going to vote?" and as I was shutting the door I said "Nope."
But before I got the door shut, I decided to engage a little more, and opened the door up and said "Well, I'm not going to vote, but I do vote."
And she said "Just not for Walker? I get it."
And I said "Correct. And just so I'm perfectly clear...I mostly always vote Republican..."
Her: "...but not Walker. I hear you."
Me: "Or any of the Trump candidates."
Her: "Yep, I got you."
It was quite obvious she had heard that PLENTY of times so far.
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Are we 100% sure his isn’t a satirical account?
I wondered but I think he’s serious. He’s always so over the top hard to tell sometimes. Like ihhawk w DeSantis.
I can't tell between him and that Fuente loser. One of them tweeted something like "Dating women is gay" last year. Got to be a gag at some point.
- Sep 13, 2002
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- Sep 13, 2002
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- Sep 13, 2002
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Interesting read here from The Nation.
www.thenation.com
The Disturbing World of the New GOP
The 2022 midterms saw the Republican Party complete its devolution into a party that has fully abandoned its conscience.
www.thenation.com
I'm not sure that Trump changed really and got worse or more racist or focused on racist things. I think the circle of people who are willing to engage with him and work with him has dwindled to the point that this is all that's left.
Could definitely see trump losing the primary and running as an independent just to torpedo Republican chances in 2024.
With a favorable Republican map for congress in 24, it's not a terrible outcome. Gridlock beginning in January and running for at least 4 years should give the economy time to stabilize a bit.
With a favorable Republican map for congress in 24, it's not a terrible outcome. Gridlock beginning in January and running for at least 4 years should give the economy time to stabilize a bit.
I don't think I see that. I'm not sure I see the upside of that for him. I don't know if "getting 8% of the vote to own the Republicans" necessarily fits anything he's going for. He's entirely ego-driven, and I'm not sure that move fits.
I'm not sure "see, I control a minority but decisive portion of the Republican electorate" is something he's going for. Desantis getting 40% of the vote and Trump getting 7-8% of the vote doesn't exactly position him as king of Republicans.
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Fun read from The Atlantic on the pending Trump-DeSantis throwdown:
By Mark Leibovich
Giorgio Viera / AFP / Getty
NOVEMBER 30, 2022
Governor ron desantis has a growing store of admirers. This includes many who have watched the cantankerous Floridian only from afar. They have heard glowing things. He was the biggest winner of an otherwise dark election cycle for Republicans. He has impeccable bona fides as a Donald Trump disciple—without being Trump himself, whom many see as the biggest loser of said dark election cycle.
This has made DeSantis the GOP’s hottest molecule. He is full MAGA without the high drama. He is terrorizing all the right targets while Trump keeps blowing himself up in new and creative ways. “He is Trump with a brain,” goes the whispered refrain among DeSantis aides (this clearly drives Trump nuts—always a noble goal).
While essentially working from home, DeSantis has managed to build an impressive cachet as a favored Fox News funambulist, a flypaper for big donors, and an owner of libs. He has fashioned a kind of GOP utopia in the Sunshine State—where the boss himself chooses to reside, but is safely cordoned off in Palm Beach. DeSantis, meanwhile, clearly runs the empire. “Florida is where woke goes to die,” he said in his chest-thumping victory speech on Election Night.
The question is whether DeSantis’s presidential hopes will perish as he starts getting out more on the Iowa–New Hampshire dating apps. People who know him better and have watched him longer are skeptical of his ability to take on the former president. DeSantis, they say, is no thoroughbred political athlete. He can be awkward and plodding. And Trump tends to eviscerate guys like that.
“He was standoffish in general,” the Virginia Republican Barbara Comstock, a former House colleague of DeSantis’s, told me.
“A strange no-eye-contact oddball,” Rick Wilson, a Republican media consultant, wrote on Resolute Square.
“I’d rather have teeth pulled without anesthetic than be on a boat with Ron DeSantis,” says Mac Stipanovich, a Tallahassee lobbyist who set sail from the GOP over his revulsion for Trump and his knockoffs. To sum up: DeSantis is not a fun and convivial dude. He prefers to keep his earbuds in. His “Step away from the vehicle” vibes are strong.
To stipulate: None of this is necessarily disqualifying.
On the contrary, it could lend DeSantis credibility as an outsider irritant. He is not just another smoothie politician, not part of the “establishment.” Since Trump descended his escalator and dragged the GOP down with him, the party has shown a persistent tolerance, even inclination, for churlish bastards—just as long as they are churlish toward the right rascals, reprobates, and agents of wokeness. DeSantis has a Trumpian proficiency for identifying these. If that leads to cruel treatment of vulnerable populations (refugees, gay and transgender teens), even better.
“I think he is going to run into some challenges,” Carlos Curbelo, a former Republican congressman from Florida who served with DeSantis in the House, told me. “It’s that question that often comes up in politics—the question of ‘Would you want to have a beer with him?’’’ This is a big-time cliché, of course, but it does feel pertinent. Will he grow on voters like a catchy song, or like mold? DeSantis “has this robotic quality that he has to shed,” Curbelo said. “Everything else checks the box. He is smart and competent and committed to his ideology. He just has to humanize himself.”
All while Trump will be running DeSantis through his patented dehumanizer machine, which made such mashed mush of his rivals in 2016. Trump’s efficient cartooning of “Low-Energy Jeb,” “Liddle Marco,” and “Lyin’ Ted” left them flailing pathetically.
“On a debate stage, all of Trump’s strengths go straight to DeSantis’s weaknesses,” Stipanovich told me. Trump has energy and presence; DeSantis “is dour and doesn’t improvise particularly well.”
People who are appropriately sycophantic to Trump swear he possesses a certain charm and charisma. Even those who are eager to vouch for DeSantis don’t say this about him. He would launch any charm offensive unarmed.
“My sense is that Trump would gut DeSantis with a dull deer antler,” said Stipanovich, who has a taste for violent animal metaphors. He also predicted that “Trump would club DeSantis like a baby seal.”
In fairness, DeSantis is not completely defenseless. So far, Trump has whined that DeSantis has not been sufficiently loyal or “classy” toward him. He called DeSantis an “average REPUBLICAN governor.” He’s given him a mean nickname, “Ron DeSanctimonious,” which to be honest is kind of meh—not midseason Trump by any means. DeSantis brushed it off as “just noise.”
Like Trump, DeSantis has a feral, shameless quality. As an underdog candidate for governor in 2018, DeSantis showed a remarkable willingness to prostrate himself before the then-president, even by the cringey standards of Trump-era toadyism. The apex—or nadir—of this effort involved an ad in which the candidate is shown reading a bedtime story to his baby son, the latter clad in a red make america great again onesie.
“Then Mr. Trump said, ‘You’re fired,’” the doting dad reads. This gambit proved wildly effective for DeSantis, propelling the backbencher congressman to an upset victory in the Republican primary. There might be no better example of a candidate allowing his political identity—and self-respect—to be totally devoured by his allegiance to Trump, at least for as long as it suited him. For the sake of the child, hopefully this scene will never be spoken of again.
The pure nerve that allowed DeSantis to so debase himself before Trump and then promptly turn against his former kingmaker could serve him well. DeSantis understands intuitively that loyalty in politics can be a loser’s proposition. “Ron’s strength as a politician is that he doesn’t give a ****,” a Republican consultant told The New Yorker. “Ron’s weakness as a politician is that he doesn’t give a ****.”
Just Wait Until You Get to Know Ron DeSantis
People who haven’t met him think he’s a hot commodity. People who have met him aren’t so sure.By Mark Leibovich
Giorgio Viera / AFP / Getty
NOVEMBER 30, 2022
Governor ron desantis has a growing store of admirers. This includes many who have watched the cantankerous Floridian only from afar. They have heard glowing things. He was the biggest winner of an otherwise dark election cycle for Republicans. He has impeccable bona fides as a Donald Trump disciple—without being Trump himself, whom many see as the biggest loser of said dark election cycle.
This has made DeSantis the GOP’s hottest molecule. He is full MAGA without the high drama. He is terrorizing all the right targets while Trump keeps blowing himself up in new and creative ways. “He is Trump with a brain,” goes the whispered refrain among DeSantis aides (this clearly drives Trump nuts—always a noble goal).
While essentially working from home, DeSantis has managed to build an impressive cachet as a favored Fox News funambulist, a flypaper for big donors, and an owner of libs. He has fashioned a kind of GOP utopia in the Sunshine State—where the boss himself chooses to reside, but is safely cordoned off in Palm Beach. DeSantis, meanwhile, clearly runs the empire. “Florida is where woke goes to die,” he said in his chest-thumping victory speech on Election Night.
The question is whether DeSantis’s presidential hopes will perish as he starts getting out more on the Iowa–New Hampshire dating apps. People who know him better and have watched him longer are skeptical of his ability to take on the former president. DeSantis, they say, is no thoroughbred political athlete. He can be awkward and plodding. And Trump tends to eviscerate guys like that.
“He was standoffish in general,” the Virginia Republican Barbara Comstock, a former House colleague of DeSantis’s, told me.
“A strange no-eye-contact oddball,” Rick Wilson, a Republican media consultant, wrote on Resolute Square.
“I’d rather have teeth pulled without anesthetic than be on a boat with Ron DeSantis,” says Mac Stipanovich, a Tallahassee lobbyist who set sail from the GOP over his revulsion for Trump and his knockoffs. To sum up: DeSantis is not a fun and convivial dude. He prefers to keep his earbuds in. His “Step away from the vehicle” vibes are strong.
To stipulate: None of this is necessarily disqualifying.
On the contrary, it could lend DeSantis credibility as an outsider irritant. He is not just another smoothie politician, not part of the “establishment.” Since Trump descended his escalator and dragged the GOP down with him, the party has shown a persistent tolerance, even inclination, for churlish bastards—just as long as they are churlish toward the right rascals, reprobates, and agents of wokeness. DeSantis has a Trumpian proficiency for identifying these. If that leads to cruel treatment of vulnerable populations (refugees, gay and transgender teens), even better.
But no shortage of alleged heavyweights have entered previous primary races only to reveal themselves as decidedly not ready for prime time, or even late-night C-SPAN. Political handicappers and fundraisers overhype them. Expectations create a cryptolike bubble. Then they finally show up and fail to dazzle. The gloss fades fast. You can ask President Beto O’Rourke about this.“I think he is going to run into some challenges,” Carlos Curbelo, a former Republican congressman from Florida who served with DeSantis in the House, told me. “It’s that question that often comes up in politics—the question of ‘Would you want to have a beer with him?’’’ This is a big-time cliché, of course, but it does feel pertinent. Will he grow on voters like a catchy song, or like mold? DeSantis “has this robotic quality that he has to shed,” Curbelo said. “Everything else checks the box. He is smart and competent and committed to his ideology. He just has to humanize himself.”
All while Trump will be running DeSantis through his patented dehumanizer machine, which made such mashed mush of his rivals in 2016. Trump’s efficient cartooning of “Low-Energy Jeb,” “Liddle Marco,” and “Lyin’ Ted” left them flailing pathetically.
“On a debate stage, all of Trump’s strengths go straight to DeSantis’s weaknesses,” Stipanovich told me. Trump has energy and presence; DeSantis “is dour and doesn’t improvise particularly well.”
People who are appropriately sycophantic to Trump swear he possesses a certain charm and charisma. Even those who are eager to vouch for DeSantis don’t say this about him. He would launch any charm offensive unarmed.
“My sense is that Trump would gut DeSantis with a dull deer antler,” said Stipanovich, who has a taste for violent animal metaphors. He also predicted that “Trump would club DeSantis like a baby seal.”
In fairness, DeSantis is not completely defenseless. So far, Trump has whined that DeSantis has not been sufficiently loyal or “classy” toward him. He called DeSantis an “average REPUBLICAN governor.” He’s given him a mean nickname, “Ron DeSanctimonious,” which to be honest is kind of meh—not midseason Trump by any means. DeSantis brushed it off as “just noise.”
Like Trump, DeSantis has a feral, shameless quality. As an underdog candidate for governor in 2018, DeSantis showed a remarkable willingness to prostrate himself before the then-president, even by the cringey standards of Trump-era toadyism. The apex—or nadir—of this effort involved an ad in which the candidate is shown reading a bedtime story to his baby son, the latter clad in a red make america great again onesie.
“Then Mr. Trump said, ‘You’re fired,’” the doting dad reads. This gambit proved wildly effective for DeSantis, propelling the backbencher congressman to an upset victory in the Republican primary. There might be no better example of a candidate allowing his political identity—and self-respect—to be totally devoured by his allegiance to Trump, at least for as long as it suited him. For the sake of the child, hopefully this scene will never be spoken of again.
The pure nerve that allowed DeSantis to so debase himself before Trump and then promptly turn against his former kingmaker could serve him well. DeSantis understands intuitively that loyalty in politics can be a loser’s proposition. “Ron’s strength as a politician is that he doesn’t give a ****,” a Republican consultant told The New Yorker. “Ron’s weakness as a politician is that he doesn’t give a ****.”
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“I don’t think Ron hangs out with anybody, from what I can tell,” former New Jersey Governor Chris Christie said during an appearance on the Ruthless podcast. Christie, who encountered DeSantis at Republican Governors Association meetings, said his Florida counterpart tended to remain cocooned inside his entourage. “I don’t see him hanging with the other governors,” Christie said.
DeSantis works harder than Trump does, and is more disciplined and capable of adapting. He attended Yale and Harvard Law School and clearly took some classes in populism. He could conceivably grow more adept at carrying on conversations in diners and pretending to care about the pet issues of self-important state reps in the North Country.
But certain political skills are more innate, and require an ability to ad-lib that DeSantis lacks. He can appear needlessly snappish and reactive (earlier this year, he scolded a group of high-school students for wearing masks onstage behind him). One particular interlude during DeSantis’s 2022 campaign bears revisiting. It occurred during a debate with his Democratic opponent, Charlie Crist, who attempted to pin down the governor on whether he would commit to serving out his four-year term if reelected. In other words, was DeSantis running for president in 2024 or not? “Yes or no, Ron?” Crist pressed him. DeSantis froze. “It’s a fair question and he won’t tell you,” Crist said, filling the silence.
Finally, a moderator jumped in and reminded the candidates that they were not permitted to ask each other direct questions, allowing DeSantis to regroup. “Well, I know that Charlie is interested in talking about 2024 and Joe Biden,” DeSantis said, delivering what was clearly a rehearsed line. “But I just want to make this very, very clear. The only worn-out old donkey I’m looking to put out to pasture is Charlie Crist.” Cute recovery. But still awkward.
DeSantis probably figured—rightly—that he was in no danger of losing to Crist and might as well suffer through the silence rather than complicate things when he decides to bolt from Florida to run for president. But a fluid politician could have better finessed that exchange. And Trump likely took note and filed this away. “He knew and assessed the weaknesses of DeSantis on the debate stage and in the media space,” Wilson wrote in his Resolute Square essay, concluding that Trump will tear him to pieces. “He smelled blood.”
Republicans who want to save the party from Trump are investing great hope in a blank slate. The New York Post has dubbed him “DeFuture.” I would dub that DeBatable.
DeSantis works harder than Trump does, and is more disciplined and capable of adapting. He attended Yale and Harvard Law School and clearly took some classes in populism. He could conceivably grow more adept at carrying on conversations in diners and pretending to care about the pet issues of self-important state reps in the North Country.
But certain political skills are more innate, and require an ability to ad-lib that DeSantis lacks. He can appear needlessly snappish and reactive (earlier this year, he scolded a group of high-school students for wearing masks onstage behind him). One particular interlude during DeSantis’s 2022 campaign bears revisiting. It occurred during a debate with his Democratic opponent, Charlie Crist, who attempted to pin down the governor on whether he would commit to serving out his four-year term if reelected. In other words, was DeSantis running for president in 2024 or not? “Yes or no, Ron?” Crist pressed him. DeSantis froze. “It’s a fair question and he won’t tell you,” Crist said, filling the silence.
Finally, a moderator jumped in and reminded the candidates that they were not permitted to ask each other direct questions, allowing DeSantis to regroup. “Well, I know that Charlie is interested in talking about 2024 and Joe Biden,” DeSantis said, delivering what was clearly a rehearsed line. “But I just want to make this very, very clear. The only worn-out old donkey I’m looking to put out to pasture is Charlie Crist.” Cute recovery. But still awkward.
DeSantis probably figured—rightly—that he was in no danger of losing to Crist and might as well suffer through the silence rather than complicate things when he decides to bolt from Florida to run for president. But a fluid politician could have better finessed that exchange. And Trump likely took note and filed this away. “He knew and assessed the weaknesses of DeSantis on the debate stage and in the media space,” Wilson wrote in his Resolute Square essay, concluding that Trump will tear him to pieces. “He smelled blood.”
Republicans who want to save the party from Trump are investing great hope in a blank slate. The New York Post has dubbed him “DeFuture.” I would dub that DeBatable.
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Great column in National Review...
https://www.nationalreview.com/2022/12/when-trump-promises-to-be-a-tyrant-take-him-at-his-word/
The excuses that are being marshaled in Trump’s defense are, as ever, utterly pathetic. Trump said what he said, and he meant what he meant, and what he said and what he meant are flatly unacceptable coming from a man who was once the leader of a free country, and who aspires to be so again. No other figure would inspire the performative downplaying or studied bewilderment that Trump receives from his partisans. His meaning was clear, and — just as important — it was entirely consistent with his previous conduct. This is a guy who, in early 2021, attempted to stage a coup. Forget the riot on January 6 for a moment — in the grand scheme of things, that was a sideshow — and examine what Trump was trying to do while that riot occurred. Repeatedly, and without shame, the president of the United States made an attempt to rewrite the 1887 Electoral Count Act and the Twelfth Amendment to the Constitution so that Mike Pence could be transformed into an election-dictator and declare that he, Donald Trump, rather than the winner, Joe Biden, had prevailed in the election.
Grumble if you must, but those are the plain facts of the case, and they have not changed. More than a year after the election, Trump put out a statement lamenting Pence’s refusal to acquiesce to his scheme. “Unfortunately,” Trump wrote, Pence “didn’t exercise that power, he could have overturned the election!” This is still Trump’s view — and, if anything, the scope of his ambition has broadened. In 2021, he was ranting about the Twelfth Amendment and the Electoral Count Act. Now, he’s set his sights on the “termination of all rules, regulations, and articles” in the country that might obstruct his will to power. This statement alone should mark his banishment from political contention. In conjunction with the others, it ought to represent a political suicide note.
https://www.nationalreview.com/2022/12/when-trump-promises-to-be-a-tyrant-take-him-at-his-word/
The excuses that are being marshaled in Trump’s defense are, as ever, utterly pathetic. Trump said what he said, and he meant what he meant, and what he said and what he meant are flatly unacceptable coming from a man who was once the leader of a free country, and who aspires to be so again. No other figure would inspire the performative downplaying or studied bewilderment that Trump receives from his partisans. His meaning was clear, and — just as important — it was entirely consistent with his previous conduct. This is a guy who, in early 2021, attempted to stage a coup. Forget the riot on January 6 for a moment — in the grand scheme of things, that was a sideshow — and examine what Trump was trying to do while that riot occurred. Repeatedly, and without shame, the president of the United States made an attempt to rewrite the 1887 Electoral Count Act and the Twelfth Amendment to the Constitution so that Mike Pence could be transformed into an election-dictator and declare that he, Donald Trump, rather than the winner, Joe Biden, had prevailed in the election.
Grumble if you must, but those are the plain facts of the case, and they have not changed. More than a year after the election, Trump put out a statement lamenting Pence’s refusal to acquiesce to his scheme. “Unfortunately,” Trump wrote, Pence “didn’t exercise that power, he could have overturned the election!” This is still Trump’s view — and, if anything, the scope of his ambition has broadened. In 2021, he was ranting about the Twelfth Amendment and the Electoral Count Act. Now, he’s set his sights on the “termination of all rules, regulations, and articles” in the country that might obstruct his will to power. This statement alone should mark his banishment from political contention. In conjunction with the others, it ought to represent a political suicide note.
They'll fall back in line. No matter what a Dem is worse.
The guy is scene as George Washington to a good chunk of the population. Republicans fudged up when they didn't convict him. This peeling of the band aid won't work with him.
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"Trump Doom Loop"
On the Republican side, no potential candidate has registered in the national polls as anything close to a Trump-toppler, and that includes, so far, the much touted governor of Florida, Ron DeSantis. I was reminded of this while listening to the conservative radio host Hugh Hewitt interview the former New Jersey governor Chris Christie the other day. Christie is considering running again for President as a former Trump friend who’s seen the light, but it’s hardly clear whether there is a path for him in the field. Hewitt summed up the state of the Republican electorate as being divided into four categories: Never Trump, Sometimes Trump, Always Trump, and Only Trump. The Only Trump category constitutes a more or less immovable twenty-five to thirty per cent of the Party, Hewitt said—which is also the estimate he gave for the percentage of Republicans who will never again vote for Trump. The Party, in other words, is stuck in a Trump doom loop, and the primary will come down to a referendum one way or the other on the former President.
Other rivals in the Republican race, of course, may yet find success in challenging Trump. Many, like DeSantis, will probably emphasize their credentials as culture warriors, attacking “woke” Democrats and the like. Others, such as Trump’s former U.N. Ambassador Nikki Haley and the former Secretary of State Mike Pompeo, may come at him as more traditional conservatives, criticizing his inward-looking “America First” platform as isolationist weakness at a time when rivals like China and Russia demand strength. But it’s an extraordinary fact that Trump remains not only the dominant figure of the Republican Party headed into 2024 but one who is still able to set the Party’s agenda to a remarkable degree. Without Trump, it’s hard to imagine any other Republicans carrying on about 2020, or about the so-called heroes of January 6th. Most parties like to move on from elections they lost.
But, because of Trump, today’s G.O.P. cannot. And his rivals, so far, are proving to be a timid bunch, all too wary of poking Trump. Faced with voters who overwhelmingly supported Trump’s election lies, they kowtow or equivocate as he continues to untruthfully decry the “Massive Fraud” of the 2020 election. This does not suggest a party that is on the verge of abandoning its leader for a newer, less controversial figure. And, besides, the more crowded the field ultimately gets, the more the gumption—or lack thereof—of the other candidates may not matter: in a divided party, the Only and Always Trumpers have more than enough votes to prevail.
On the Republican side, no potential candidate has registered in the national polls as anything close to a Trump-toppler, and that includes, so far, the much touted governor of Florida, Ron DeSantis. I was reminded of this while listening to the conservative radio host Hugh Hewitt interview the former New Jersey governor Chris Christie the other day. Christie is considering running again for President as a former Trump friend who’s seen the light, but it’s hardly clear whether there is a path for him in the field. Hewitt summed up the state of the Republican electorate as being divided into four categories: Never Trump, Sometimes Trump, Always Trump, and Only Trump. The Only Trump category constitutes a more or less immovable twenty-five to thirty per cent of the Party, Hewitt said—which is also the estimate he gave for the percentage of Republicans who will never again vote for Trump. The Party, in other words, is stuck in a Trump doom loop, and the primary will come down to a referendum one way or the other on the former President.
Other rivals in the Republican race, of course, may yet find success in challenging Trump. Many, like DeSantis, will probably emphasize their credentials as culture warriors, attacking “woke” Democrats and the like. Others, such as Trump’s former U.N. Ambassador Nikki Haley and the former Secretary of State Mike Pompeo, may come at him as more traditional conservatives, criticizing his inward-looking “America First” platform as isolationist weakness at a time when rivals like China and Russia demand strength. But it’s an extraordinary fact that Trump remains not only the dominant figure of the Republican Party headed into 2024 but one who is still able to set the Party’s agenda to a remarkable degree. Without Trump, it’s hard to imagine any other Republicans carrying on about 2020, or about the so-called heroes of January 6th. Most parties like to move on from elections they lost.
But, because of Trump, today’s G.O.P. cannot. And his rivals, so far, are proving to be a timid bunch, all too wary of poking Trump. Faced with voters who overwhelmingly supported Trump’s election lies, they kowtow or equivocate as he continues to untruthfully decry the “Massive Fraud” of the 2020 election. This does not suggest a party that is on the verge of abandoning its leader for a newer, less controversial figure. And, besides, the more crowded the field ultimately gets, the more the gumption—or lack thereof—of the other candidates may not matter: in a divided party, the Only and Always Trumpers have more than enough votes to prevail.
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Until he's the nominee. Probably dozens of posters here who wish Trump would disappear, vow to never support him, but will ultimately pull the lever for him if he's the nominee, because Biden or whoever is far worse.
Never Trump, Sometimes Trump, Always Trump, and Only Trump. The Only Trump category constitutes a more or less immovable twenty-five to thirty per cent of the Party, Hewitt said—which is also the estimate he gave for the percentage of Republicans who will never again vote for Trump. The Party, in other words, is stuck in a Trump doom loop, and the primary will come down to a referendum one way or the other on the former President.
I think he's way too high on the Never Tump and Only Trump categories, if I'm reading him correctly that he's talking about the general election (because if he's talking about the primary, there's no distinction between Always Trump and Never Trump).
I don't think there's any way that 25-30% of Republicans stay home in a general election if Trump is not on the ballot, no way. That hasn't at all been reflected in Republican enthusiasm and turnout in places like Georgia and New Hamshire where Trump-opposed Republicans won big. Not a perfect proxy, but I think it's instructive. I don't think you'd have even 10% of Republicans stay home in a general against a Democrat.
I also think his Never Trump number among Republicans is too high as well, no more than 10%, but may be more intractable than Only Trump.
However, in the general, what this does not take into account are independents, especially center right independents who usually vote Republican. I think the Never Trump faction there is probably huge, like 30%+, and the Only Trump faction negligible. Trump will be an absolute poison pill in the general election for that reason.
But I do agree that in the primary Trump is starting with a baseline of 30%+ that is much more formidable than any other contender, and can be enough to win in a crowded field.
I think he's way too high on the Never Tump and Only Trump categories, if I'm reading him correctly that he's talking about the general election (because if he's talking about the primary, there's no distinction between Always Trump and Never Trump).
I don't think there's any way that 25-30% of Republicans stay home in a general election if Trump is not on the ballot, no way. That hasn't at all been reflected in Republican enthusiasm and turnout in places like Georgia and New Hamshire where Trump-opposed Republicans won big. Not a perfect proxy, but I think it's instructive. I don't think you'd have even 10% of Republicans stay home in a general against a Democrat.
I also think his Never Trump number among Republicans is too high as well, no more than 10%, but may be more intractable than Only Trump.
However, in the general, what this does not take into account are independents, especially center right independents who usually vote Republican. I think the Never Trump faction there is probably huge, like 30%+, and the Only Trump faction negligible. Trump will be an absolute poison pill in the general election for that reason.
But I do agree that in the primary Trump is starting with a baseline of 30%+ that is much more formidable than any other contender, and can be enough to win in a crowded field.
