What is Going on in the GOP?
Time for Evangelicals to Start from Where the World Is
What you are witnessing here is a stirring. Of which we must be wary. I applaud your restraint, my liege. After so many years of strife, you are proving to be more than your father’s son. And this is admirable. And sage. You wish to be a king for the people. We must ensure to that end, however, that you do not remain oblivious to the mood of the people.
-William Gascoigne to Henry V, The King (2019)
In the 1960s and 70s, Saul Alinsky told his young Marxist disciples, we must “start from where the world is, as it is,” not as we would like it to be, and “that means working in the system.” The youngsters were frustrated with the DNC’s makeup, culture, and trajectory. Alinsky told them they could either gratuitously stick it to the man or they could put on a suit, comb their hair, and take power in the party—not exactly what a radical wants to hear. Obviously, many of them took his advice. (More on all this in a forthcoming piece.) The present point is that “no politician can sit on a hot issue if you make it hot enough.” But this requires organization, discipline, and, well, showing up. Remember the Biden rule: be there.
There is a clip from 2016 where Trump, in a typical off-script moment, asks no one in particular why Evangelicals aren’t more politically unified and assertive. As an engaged, active block, they could get whatever they want, to paraphrase the president’s answer. But they—we—don’t, so we won’t. Evangelical “thought leaders” have conditioned their audiences to think there would almost be something wrong if we did decide to do so.
The same crowd has spent a decade pulling people away from the Republican Party of the Trump era, and demonizing—only in “respectable” tones, of course—remainers. Even in the before times, it’s not like evangelicals were dominant. Even in the Bush years they had little power in or real respect from the White House or the party.
Joel Berry is right, “We threw our support behind moral, polite men with good hair who paid lip service to our cause while losing on almost every front.” That’s what the Big Eva crowd is comfortable with: appearances that comfort them, that keep them squeaky clean. No qualms with nominating a Mormon so long as he isn’t crass and looks the part.
It is no surprise then if the Convention crowd reflects a broader constituency today than it did 10 years ago. It has had to; Trump effectively conjured up a new stock of voters—new voters, Bernie voters, Obama voters, etc. The Never Trumpers are at least partially to blame for creating this necessity. So, the party looks very different today.
Credit where its due, Wokal Distance is right, Harmeet Dhillon gets it done as an activist and lawyer for conservative causes. She’s out there taking scalps. Where’s the Evangelical equivalent? Also, remember that a Sikh prayer was offered in 2012. Did Evangelicals exit the party then?
And then there was Amber Rose, the porn star with face tattoos. Bizarre? Yes. Obscene? Yes. But that’s the easy analysis. (See below). The point is, Evangelicals, especially the Never Trumpers and classical liberal moralists, have no room to complain when they’ve made mini careers out of dumping on the GOP so long as Trump has been the head of it.
All that said, Joel Berry also right that was the pagan prayer but there were also overt Christian displays, more than usual. It’s true. Trump gave an ode to Billy Graham last night. Sikhs weren’t the only ones praying on stage. What does this mean?
Last week at Nat Con, Al Mohler rightly condemned secular conservatism as impotent. Of course, he and I both only accept true religion as the true alternative to secularism. But I also recall Rusty Reno saying during the Q&A session for our panel that religion is safer in a spiritualized environment as opposed to a despiritualized one. This was in response to a question regarding religious minorities in red states where curriculum plans are becoming more overtly Christian. Reno said they needn’t worry because their children are less likely to abandon their familial faith if other children at school are in a similar boat. The same cannot be said when most of the homes represented in the students are secular, atheist, or thoroughly confused.
I am not sure I buy all of that all the way through but it’s a good point insofar as it goes.
All that to say, if the GOP is becoming more comfortably spiritual, so to speak, if in a pluralistic way, is that better or worse than secularizing? Surely, even now, the majority of GOP’ers are Christians. Not to beat a dead horse, but maybe they just need to be more assertive, more active, and be willing to exploit pain points like other constituencies do. Clearly, the GOP leadership is sensitive to such things. If we had a bunch of Evangelical operators like Dhillon, the RNC might like more like the SBC. If we want the party to look more like us we have to actually be an active part of the party, more than just holding our noses and pulling the lever, I mean.
Admittedly, the GOP is wild this year. You’ve got Russell Brand there. That’s weird. But there’s also the cameo from the UNC-Chapel Hill frat boys who protected the flag from pro-Hamas rioters. Stange bedfellows. Welcome to coalition politics.
But that’s not really the strangest trend.
This year’s convention has also made a point of highlighting Everyday Americans (EDAs), allowing them to speak from the mainstage. Inclusion of this constituency, the average Trump voter, in conjunction with big policy themes of the national populist faction of the party—see Vivek Ramaswamy’s speech—is a good indication of the party’s trajectory, one that will be solidified by the Trump-Vance ticket. J.D. Vance himself made a point of highlighting the plight of Appalachian Americans, opioids, broken families, jobs lost to globalization and technology, forever wars, and class divisions. Vance also took a direct swing at propositional or creedal nationhood, reminding the audience what most of them feel but aren’t allowed to say: “America is not just an idea. It is a group of people, with a shared history and a common future.”
That’s another thing, the Vance selection—a straight, white, Christian male of working-class background and elite credentials—tells us several things: 1) Trump chose a successor, the guy most aligned with his vision (and Vance is only 39, the same age as Nixon when he was chosen as VP). 2) Vance doesn’t help with the more diverse elements of the party, he’s a nod to the base, including the grill American Christian base. This is a better indication of priorities of the post-Trump GOP than any prayer or speech from the floor of the convention itself. All this should be encouraging to us.
As William Wolfe and Jon Harris noted earlier this week, the Buchananites have displaced the Neocon’s and Chamber of Commerce types. The Bush era is finally over. Mission accomplished! Trumpism without Trump will be Vancism. In Vance, Trump has identified his successor and solidified his legacy, and said as much in his speech. That Trump has the foresight and humility to do this says a lot about his posture going into his next and final term.
Or, we might say, conservatism of the heart has overtaken compassionate conservatism. The latter is outward facing, cosmopolitan, global in orientation. The former looks inward first, is particular in its conception of the nation, and domestic in its primary concern. It is America first. It is a welcome, energizing change.
For the first time in a while, there is real energy in the party and real pathos at the Convention. The constant question of pundits over the past 8-10 years has been whether there is a future for Trumpism without Trump. The Vance pick is an answer in the affirmative. And since it appears Trump will be around for some time—even the assassin’s bullet could not take him out—he has a chance to direct the party for the next several years, potentially with more impact even than Reagan. Expect the next term to feature an active VP, a VP more aligned than Mike Pence ever was. Trump would not have picked him if this was not the case.
Returning to Evangelicals for a moment: Did I mention Evangelicals, for all their chirping about separation of church and state, keeping politics out of the pulpit, being sojourners in a strange land, and so on, they sure are bad at understanding what politics really is, how it functions, and what it’s for. All they seem to know how to do is moralize everything.
For instance, instead of the typical evangelical response over Amber Rose, recognize what is actually going on here. Understand the setting, purpose, and effects.
As Michael Knowles aptly pointed out, Rose didn’t advocate her pro-abortion views or pornographic lifestyle from the stage.
[She] “Got up there and said, hey, I was told to hate Trump. I was told by the media that Trump is awful and evil, racist and terrible, and I believed it. And then I realized it wasn’t true. And so, I’m telling people who look like me, who do things that I do, who talk the way that I talk, who are not usually part of the Republican base. Hey, you’re being lied to. Take it from me, as someone you follow. Apparently, this woman has 25 million Instagram followers… she’s telling those people, vote for Trump. That’s it… That’s good. I’m glad she’s doing it.”
Here’s the important part:
“What do you think this is? What do you think we’re doing here [at the RNC]? We’re at the [RNC] in a presidential year. We’re nominating a presidential candidate… And we’re going to go try to win an election in November. The convention exists to help the candidate win the election. That’s it!”
Neither Amber Rose nor anyone else on stage is controlling the party or rewriting the platform. The GOP did the latter all by itself. Knowles is right, “You got to put these things in their proper place.”
This is sober analysis. If we thought more like this, American Protestants could be more focused and effective, reserving energy for actually gaining influence. Basically, the RNC platformed anyone and everyone who would publicly support a candidate who, albeit the polls are currently with him, needs all the help he can get, the largest coalition possible. The binary choice of American party politics is just as much on display at the Convention as it is in the “battle box” in November. In this narrow context of building electoral coalitions, we have to be focused and singular in our outlook. We Evangelicals, of course, would love the presentation of the party to be more agreeable to us, more wholesome. But I repeat myself. Refer to analysis above. If Christian nationalists can accept this then surely our strict separationist, Anabaptist interlocutors can, the aspirations of the latter being decidedly less ambitious.
Moreover, if we want to lead the party, we have to understand its constituency post-Trump. Remember the viral video of the “trailer park mom” making boxed rice and hotdogs for her kids. She had also reportedly had multiple abortions and made money from Only Fans. That’s lots of red America. That’s some of the most unrepresented people in the country. That’s a lot of Trump voters. That’s part of the coalition that Kid Rock and Amber Rose speak to. That’s the way it is right now. One last time, see above. And as Kruptos noted well, the theory-laden dissident right will never win anything if they purity spiral against the commoners:
On to President Trump’s speech. For many of us, it was the most incredible Convention speech in memory. (Forgive us, we were only two or three when Buchanan gave his.)
He told the Washington Examiner on Sunday that this one would be different, and he was true to his word. This was not “American Carnage.” Unity was, indeed, the primary theme, at least for the scripted part. “I am running to be president for ALL of America, not half of America, because there is no victory in winning for half of America,” he began.
“I am here tonight to lay out a vision for the whole nation. To every citizen, whether you’re a young or old, man or woman, Democrat, Republican or Independent, Black or white, Asian or Hispanic, I extend to you a hand of loyalty and of friendship.”
As expected, he provided a moving account of the attempt on his life. Trump was more somber and emotional than we’ve ever seen, understandably so, and vowed to never recount the incident in full again.
Maybe the most revealing moment in this portion of the speech came when Trump said, “I’m not supposed to be here tonight.” To which the crowd responded with the chant, “Yes, you are!” The showman Trump might join in with or adopt that response. The more pensive, reflective Trump kindly responded, “Thank you. But I’m not, And I’ll tell you. I stand before you in this arena only by the grace of almighty God.”
He honored the fallen, Corey Comperatore, and wounded, David Dutch and James Copenhaver from the rally. He acknowledged and thanked God several times more. There were lines like the following that broke the typical—or, at least expected—Trump mold and spoke in decidedly moral terms:
“Our resolve is unbroken and our purpose is unchanged, to deliver a government that serves the American people better than ever before. Nothing will stop me in this mission, because our vision is righteous and our cause is pure.”
And in the entire speech, which lasted for nearly two hours, he never cursed, which he pointed out from the stage to Franklin Graham, and only mentioned President Biden once. The obvious implicit message of the speech, given its length, is that Trump, not a week after being shot, has the stamina and thumos to go another full round; his opponent is running on empty. The contrast has been obvious for some time, but maybe never this obvious.
A sense of newly acknowledged mortality in Trump is obvious, but there also was a recognition that this is his final act:
“No matter what obstacle comes our way, we will not break. We will not bend. We will not back down and I will never stop fighting for you, your family and our magnificent country. Never. And everything I have to give with all of the energy and fight in my heart and soul, I pledge to our nation tonight.”
As we said in our editorial on Monday, no one can claim Trump is just in it for himself anymore. And in his speech, after recalling the now iconic moment of his fist in the air, blood streaming down his face, flag behind him, he pledged everything he has left in the tank to the nation. Truly remarkable, historical stuff.
It wouldn’t be right to say the events of the past week softened Trump, but they have chastened him. The way, at least in this speech, he talks about things has changed. Instead of incessantly bemoaning the treatment he’s received from his opponents—there was some of that, and rightly so—he made more principled statements, taking the high road in his own way:
“[T]he Democrat party should immediately stop weaponizing the justice system and labeling their political opponent as an enemy of democracy […] If Democrats want to unify our country, they should drop these partisan witch hunts, which I’ve been going through for approximately eight years. And they should do that without delay and allow an election to proceed that is worthy of our people.”
A common criticism of his 2020 campaign was that he made it all about himself. He’s corrected that now.
When Trump did go off script—roughly the second hour—he spent the time recounting American grievances, economic, social, and political. The three crises were returned to often: inflation, immigration, and international failures.
Vintage Trump lines like “Drill, baby, drill,” made cameos, more for nostalgia’s sake. He was still funny:
“And by the way, Wisconsin, we are spending over $250 million here, creating jobs and other economic … development all over the place. So, I hope you will remember this in November and give us your vote. I am trying to buy your vote. I’ll be honest about that.”
But, again, this was a different speech. “Vision, strength, competence, and common sense” were the vows taken by this candidacy. And while the external enemies of the nation were covered, what distinguishes this speech, and this candidate, is the positive vision he offered of America.
“We are Americans. Ambition is our heritage, greatness is our birthright,” thundered Trump. He then moved into a rendition of the colonial founding up through the frontier conquest and technological achievements of the 20th century. Who else talks about a country this way? Not as an experiment in infinite becoming—always inchoate in itself—but as an inheritance of achievement? There was here a clear sense of revived manifest destiny toward the end of the speech.
But, perhaps, the most impactful thing about Trump’s speech was not in anything he said, but what he showed. He’s never been more in tune with the mood of the people. What Trump offers, above all else, is a return of American self-confidence and pride. This is, as they say, what gets the people going. Courage, spiritedness, and confidence. Trump has always displayed these virtues but always somewhat sporadically. Over the past week, culminating in this speech, we’ve seen them exhibited all at once in a focused, determined way. It’s inspiring and hopeful. That’s what people want and its what we need.
Dodgy, detached, tone-deaf academics may be intellectually dissatisfied by all this and, therefore, downplay it. They’ll tell you it doesn’t matter, to tone down the rhetoric, that all is ephemeral and fleeting. But that is why they cannot, and are not called to, rule men, no matter how many times they’ve read Luther’s Letter to the Christian Nobility. It would benefit us all if, at least for the next four months, they would remain cloistered in the ivory tower—there they can maintain their purity.
Down here in the muck and mire, real people are hurting, demoralized, downtrodden. And so long as we have governance it should be of the kind that is attuned to their mood and works for their good. Here at American Reformer, we often emphasize the religious nature of man vis-a-vis government. But man is also temporal, in need of civil pastors, as they used to be called, to tend to his immediate, temporal concerns. He may be a citizen of heaven, but inside of Providence, he is a citizen of a nation and subject to human governance. This is God ordained, for our good—hardly something to treat flippantly. That a man offers hope of representation, of safety, of prosperity, to the forgotten and demonized receives devotion is not something to be problematized. It’s not a cult, it’s human politics. Granted, we’ve not experienced that in a long time, so it may take some getting used to.