There are just shy of 100 days until the Iowa Republican caucus on January 15, 2024, followed a few weeks later on February 6 by the Republican New Hampshire primary. These are the only political thresholds that could defeat, or even disrupt, Donald Trump’s sweep to the Republican nomination — and from there just a few stumbles by Joe Biden to the presidency.
Yes, the Republicans have fielded hapless wannabe types, personal brand promoters rather than serious candidates. And counting on Florida governor Ron DeSantis to make it a competitive race was something of a Murdoch-media fantasy, the man way too far out on the no-charisma spectrum. But it just may be that conventional politics, that process of least worst choice, of organisational boots on the ground, and of money in the bank, simply has no chance against the Donald Trump show.
This past week has been quite a striking demonstration of why there is no room, hardly even breathing space, for anyone else in the Republican party. And why the most hated man in America, who, additionally, is facing four felony trials, with 91 separate indictments, holds the stage alone. And, indeed, why the collective will of the establishment and of virtually every power centre in the nation to take him down only seems to elevate him.
The collective will of the American establishment to take him down only seems to elevate him
Monday, October 2, began his trial in New York on fraud charges related to his many years as one of the leading hucksters in New York City’s real estate business — which is saying just about all you have to say. This is a civil trial, as opposed to his criminal trials, but campaign insiders have, with casual acceptance of the legal onslaught against him, added it in as a practical fifth indictment (given his civil rape conviction, the defamation case that has grown out of that, and other emerging attacks, the list will continue to expand). It is a trial he is going to lose. A set of pre-trial decisions on the part of Judge Arthur Engoron means, practically speaking, he’s already lost it. He’s a fraudster and the question now is only one of damages. Will he be run out of New York as a business proprietor? Will he face a crushing financial penalty? The answer is yes — an inevitability only to be delayed by further appeals.
He did not have to show up. Virtually any other political playbook (if it had not already recommended a fast exit from politics) would have said stay away. But, in a sudden decision on the campaign trial — accompanied by headlines of would he or wouldn’t he appear — and then a surprise flight (a well foreshadowed surprise) to New York on Sunday night, he arrived, to sturm und drang fanfare, at Trump Tower. Quite proving once again that politics is beside the point, that drama — reality show anticipation — is Trump’s currency as well as that of our time. But, still, would he actually show up and sit in court, the on-camera face of his own humiliation?
In the spring, he had snubbed the New York courtroom where E. Jean Carroll accused him of raping her in a New York department store changing room several decades ago. The result here was a faint accompli, a New York jury was going to get him, and advisers convinced him not to appear and certainly not to testify — quite the reasonable approach. But what had that gotten him? He lost anyway and lost the opportunity to play to the crowd. Now, believing his presence could make a difference, even if that difference was only to put him, rather than his accusers, at the centre of attention, he made his way in his many-car caravan to the courthouse downtown (getting to be, for him, a well-worn route).
The liberal press continues to mock his courtroom face, including the mug shot that raised $20 a time for his campaign. It’s his dead stare, implacable, menacing — here I am, wanna make something of it? It’s always the same shot. That’s what the mockers miss. He stays in character. He never gets caught in any other pose. He always finds the camera and looks directly into it. And it’s always the front page shot — with quite the subliminal message: get used to it.
The split screen reality at the trial certainly seems to defy logic. Not only is he going to lose — has already lost — but in their opening remarks his lawyers delivered trembling, half-hearted rebuttals to the charges (his lawyers had already egregiously fumbled the case by neglecting to request a jury trial). But at every break, Trump left the courtroom and went to the cameras — summoned the cameras. Against all legal advice, and practices, each Trump appearance — and they occurred throughout the day — became an opportunity to attack the New York attorney general who was prosecuting him, the judge sitting in judgement on him, and even the judge’s clerk, who had posted a picture of herself with New York senator Chuck Schumer on social media, turning her, for Trump, into “Schumer’s girlfriend”. It was victimhood, conspiracy, election interference — him against the world. At every bathroom break.
On Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, you could not forget, he would not let you forget, this was his trial. He was the hero and martyr — and entertaining insult king and flawless performer — who inevitably topped the news cycle.
Politics is beside the point, drama is Trump’s currency — as well as that of our time
And the week was still not half over. The Trump-led far-Right faction in the House deposed its more-moderate (by an infinitesimal degree) leader, Kevin McCarthy. Heretofore, McCarthy had been backed by Trump. And, for a moment, Trump looked uncomfortably caught in the middle. But suddenly — without procedural logic or possibility, or historical precedent — Trump himself became the wildcard replacement House leader. Why not? It was never going to happen, could not in fact happen, but it was another 24 hours of Trump leading the news cycle, and, to boot, knocking off any mention of his pesky trial (no story without Trump there). At the end, earning another day of news, he, the kingmaker, bequeathed his endorsement (curiously it’s his endorsement that makes news, not particularly the results of it).
And then Hamas attacked Israel. Trump rolled out his all-purpose, Sun God, foreign policy doctrine: Wouldnt’ve happened if I had been president, they wouldn’t dare, not if I had been president, not if it had been me they had to face (with a slight diss from the corner of his mouth at Netanyahu, who’d offered early congratulations to Biden on his 2020 victory).
Meanwhile, everybody in the Republican field in Iowa was trying to get someone — anyone — to notice them.
