What’s most impressive—and frightening—about Donald Trump is the size of his fan base. Trump could disappear, I commented in a recent post, but they won’t: “There are tens of millions of them now. They are a fundamental piece of American reality.” Trump didn’t create these multitudes, but thanks to him now we know they’re there. Even more importantly, now they know they’re there.
And so we see, thanks to Trump, the conservative movement beginning to eat its own, its intellectuals turning against rabble they can no longer count on to swallow whatever medicine they’re spooned. Who can argue against “real opportunity”? But if real opportunity requires “real change,” Williamson prescribes a U-Haul. The rabble thinks the change is Trump.
A lot of people agree. When Trump shows up to speak they’re in his face, not to mention in the faces of anyone who’s showed up to cheer him on. On CNN last Saturday, I saw protesters blocking traffic on one of Phoenix’s busiest streets as sheriff Joe Arpaio, sounding patient and rueful, allowed that they left him no choice but to step in soon and make arrests: cars needed to get moving, and Trump supporters needed to be able to get to his rally.
How deep is their passion for Trump, anyway? How would Trump’s multitudes respond to signs that say “You Can Do Better Than This Guy.” How many would think,Yeah, but he’s all we’ve got? One clear takeaway from the Republican debates is that although Trump is a bully and blowhard, the other candidates are ideological robots, all programmed to spew identical cant about Obamacare, climate change, and Planned Parenthood. Cut corporate taxes and nix the Iran deal and they’ll be happy—and what good does that do the welder in Phoenix who hasn’t worked in five years?
