Does it even matter that the Haitian immigrants who have flocked to Springfield, Ohio, are in the country legally? Does it matter that Springfield, once a depressed post-industrial Rust belt town like so many others, has been economically revitalized by their arrival? Does it matter that the immigrants from Haiti fled violence and economic deprivation in their own country that are the outcome of American policy? Does it matter that none of the bizarre lies that have been peddled about them by Donald Trump, JD Vance and others on the right, telling lurid tales of the migrants capturing and killing local pets, are true?
But even though the stories are made up, the threats now facing Springfield’s population of roughly 80,000 souls are very real. After last week’s presidential debate, when Trump railed about how Haitians in Springfield were “eating the dogs, eating the cats … they’re eating the pets of the people that live there”, life has been transformed in Springfield. Ordinary life has yielded to a barrage of media attention, nationally broadcast lies and threats.
Two elementary schools in Springfield had to be evacuated because of threats of violence. Think about that: someone contacted Springfield authorities and made threats against grade-school children that were credible enough that the buildings had to be evacuated for the sake of safety. Classes at Wittenberg University in Springfield had to be held online because multiple threats of violence targeting Haitian students and staff there – including a bomb threat and a mass shooting threat – were deemed credible. Two hospitals in the town, Kettering Health Springfield and Mercy Health, had to go into lockdown after receiving threats. Government buildings in the city also had to be closed.
Haitian immigrants in Springfield told news outlets that they were afraid to leave their homes. There were reports of broken windows and acid thrown on cars. There is a word for this kind of large-scale, organized violence against a local ethnic enclave. That word is pogrom.
There was a time, earlier in Trump’s political career, when pundits liked to issue chin-scratching missives about the mutability of truth: about how Trump could spin outright fabrications into vehicles for white or male grievance, and about how shockingly little it mattered when his stories were revealed to be lies. Now, the thoroughly Trumpified Republican party has all but dispensed with the pretext of honesty, instead embracing an avowed sense that the factual truth is actually irrelevant.
In an interview with CNN, Vance, who was instrumental in amplifying the lies about Springfield’s Haitian population, seemed to concede that he knew the stories of immigrants eating pets were false. “If I have to create stories so that the American media actually pays attention to the suffering of the American people, then that’s what I’m going to do,” the vice-presidential candidate said. The suffering of the people of Springfield, apparently, is not his concern.
The episode is typical of Trump’s cynical cycle, one which the rightwing media and his many Republican imitators have almost perfected over the course of the past decade: an outrageous lie is told that provides cover for a racist resentment among Trump’s supporters – and, more importantly, gins up attention for Trump himself. Because the lie is fabricated and because it has no basis in reality, it can exist entirely at the level of fantasy and projection: lurid tales of pet-eating are not true, but because they can’t be proven or disproven, they can propel days’ worth of imaginings, condemnations, hoaxes and frantic factchecking by the media class. That this particular lie evokes longstanding racist imaginations of Black people as brutal and bestial – something more akin to coyotes than to hardworking small-town families – it reaffirms Trump’s particular appeal to the white Republican id. Trump, meanwhile, uses this vulgarity to monopolize the news cycle. Real people pay the price somewhere off camera, while he repeats his libels into a microphone.
Those microphones may be part of the point. One of the great lessons of the past month, as Kamala Harris ascended to the top of the Democratic ticket and took on a more mocking and dismissive approach to Trump and his brand of politics, is that Trump’s entertainment value is a bit like Samson’s hair. When Trump is not getting attention – be it negative, outraged, adulatory or prurient – he is desperate, useless, like a fish out of water. The debate last week was a disaster for Trump: he was belittled, humiliated, made to seem peevish, petty, pathetic and incompetent by the woman who now leads him in most polls.
But this blood libel against a small migrant community in the midwest has turned the attention back to him. That may be all he really wants. Trump’s theory of politics, after all, has always been wildly consistent: he only feels like he’s winning when everyone is looking his way.
Moira Donegan is a Guardian US columnist
