Never underestimate the danger of a man who thinks he is the only answer to every question.
Donald Trump is leading the Republican primary polls. In a nation that treats politics and what should be serious policy discussions as horse race entertainment, it makes sense that the ultimate self-promoter is leading the pack.
Trump is an entertainer, and a good one. A master of being both the victim and the victor in the same sentence, his persona is carefully crafted but delivered like he’s one of the guys, talkin’ smack about his opponents and spinning stories about how it’s gonna be when he’s in charge.
Tell us a story, Donald.
And he does. It’s a simple fiction, filled with a hero with improbable hair who swaggers across the globe, telling this world leader to get in line and calling that Fortune 500 CEO to tell him where he’ll build his new plant — and you’d better believe it won’t be Mexico.
Trump’s followers hear “we” when he refers to himself in the third person as “Trump,” and they cheer. He’s the big guy the little guys want to be close to.
It doesn’t matter to Trump’s most devoted that statements he makes aren’t true, because in a cult of personality facts are a matter of opinion. And he’ll remind his groupies that “the press are liars, they’re terrible people — not all of them, but many of them” for good measure.
Trump’s campaign speech in Phoenix last week was about whose butt he has kicked, whose butt he’s kicking now and whose butt he will kick in the future. He’s a bully, cultivating followers with braggadocio. All that’s missing is the cape.
“ISIS? ISIS? They will be in such trouble!” proclaimed Trump, and the Phoenix crowd roared. “ISIS — believe me, I would take them out so fast!”
Because, you know, it’s that easy. Wave the magic Donald wand and done!
Trade deals? Who do you want to negotiate for you? America’s leaders and his opponents are stupid. They’re not bad people, he says, they’re just stupid. He’s smart, really smart, as he often mentions, and everybody loves him, but who cares if they don’t. He’s going to get along with Putin and China. So think about it, he says — who do you want making the deal?
Trump doesn’t need supporters, because he buys his own campaign. He doesn’t compromise, because he’s the master of any deal. He’s confident and believes no one else can do what he can do. And did he mention that he’s done extremely well for himself financially?
That kind of confidence is appealing to some folks — a lot of folks.
Trump fits the bill in a time and party where money carries more weight than ideas and bravado is more important than compassion. He’s the perfect candidate for a bankrupt political process and a Republican party of malcontents.
Trump is the rich jerky guy who gets the girl, the big shot who loves the sound of his own voice, the slick character who brags, as he did in Phoenix, that “I know the greatest negotiators in the world. Some are horrible people. Horrible human beings. Who cares? Some Wall Street guys, they’re brutal, they’re miserable. You wouldn’t want to go out to dinner with them. They’re terrible people. I love them.”
And his admirers want him to love them, too.
It would be a mistake to write off Donald Trump as too bizarre, too much of a joke to succeed. His campaign isn’t about ideas or policy or improving life for Americans, and he doesn’t pretend it is. He’s tapped into something much deeper, more dangerous.
Trump’s campaign is about a feeling — feeling like you belong, like you’re on the winning team, like you’re finally allowed to sit with the popular kids. It’s about the feeling that now it’s your turn to be a bully and be in charge.
And that feeling, for a lot of people, is hard to resist. It’s not a long-term strategy, but it doesn’t matter because it gets Trump the sale. And that’s what he wants most of all.
