Vol. 95: Surviving Trump (again)

The blessings of adversity

         “As democracy is perfected,” H.L. Mencken observed more than a century ago, “the office of the president represents, more and more closely, the inner soul of the people. On some great and glorious day, the plain folks of the land will reach their heart’s desire at last, and the White House will be occupied by a downright fool and a narcissistic moron.”

         Mencken’s prophecy came true in 2016, of course. But even that celebrated cynic never imagined that Americans would make the same mistake twice.

As Churchill put it decades ago, democracy is the worst of all systems of government, “except for all the other systems.” The problem is that democracy empowers the majority, even though that majority consists of fallible humans.

         To Barack Obama’s followers in 2008, the slogan “Yes we can” meant: “Yes we can elect a Black president.” To Trump’s followers in 2016 it meant: “Yes we can elect a bullying, egomaniacal, juvenile, demagogic con man who possesses no discernible government qualifications.” And this year it meant: “Yes we can do it all over again.”

Resistance to women

So, what happened this year? As it turns out, all those women supposedly terrified by the prospect of government control of their bodies, all those Blacks infuriated by police brutality, all those Latinos offended by racist jokes, all those immigrants dreading deportation and family separation, all those climate change crusaders, and all those principled “never Trump” conservatives were no match for Mencken’s “plain folks of the land,” especially all those under-educated angry young white men struggling with unemployment, social alienation, drug addiction, and fears of replacement by immigrants— and unable to articulate their complaints. Trump may have lacked practical solutions for their grievances, but unlike many observers (including yours truly) he did not dismiss them. His defiant posturing struck me as a phony gimmick, but these alienated whites saw him as their champion. “He gets us” became their mantra.

         Trump also benefitted from Americans’ unique and (to me) inexplicable resistance to female leadership. The U.S. is virtually the Western world’s only country that has never put a woman in charge of a national government. Look beyond the familiar examples— Margaret Thatcher in Britain, Angela Merkel in Germany, Golda Meir in Israel, Indira Gandhi in India— and you will find more than 100 nations (even historically macho cultures like Italy, Mexico, and Pakistan) that have elected women. At one point during the 2020 Covid pandemic, the six countries with the lowest infection rates were all run by women. That doesn’t necessarily mean women make better heads of state. But it does suggest to me that voters likely to elect women are also likely to pursue more constructive and less combative responses to issues like public health.

         “Every experience in life is a test,” I once wrote, “and therefore should be welcomed.” That certainly applies to political campaigns. To me, Trump was (and remains) a charlatan bereft of a useful product to peddle. But in a democracy, salesmanship matters, regardless of the product. President Biden’s massive $1.2 trillion Infrastructure Act of 2021 provided a broad array of benefits that most Americans failed to appreciate, at least partly because Biden failed to promote them. Whatever their flaws, Trump and his supporters did a better job of organizing public opinion— of persuading— than Kamala Harris and her followers did.

Like marriage

         As a journalist, I’m unlikely to suffer any short-term repercussions from a second Trump presidency, any more than, say, an undertaker suffers from a cholera epidemic. Since I’ve been following Trump for more than 35 years, his re-election merely enables me to continue doing what I’ve been doing. (Watch this space for more believe-it-or-not Trump stories. I’ve got a million of ’em.) Nor will you, I suspect, suffer any direct consequences of Trump’s return to the White House.

         The immediate victims of Trump’s second term will be the Ukrainians, Palestinians, Israelis, and Latin American refugees who, through no fault of their own, suddenly find their lives in jeopardy due to the new U.S. president’s vulnerability to flattery from autocrats and his fears of appearing weak.

         What to do? When Ben Franklin famously observed that his colleagues had created “a Republic, if you can keep it,” he meant in effect that democracy is like marriage: You must work at it every day. Governments, like all human relationships, can fall apart if neglected.

Will he leave in 2028?

         That sounds easy, except for the details. The New York Times editorial board’s well-intentioned but naïve November 7 post-mortem exhorted Americans to spend the next four years being “clear-eyed about the threat to the nation and its laws that will come from its 47^th president,” and to “be prepared to exercise their rights in defense of the country and the people, law, institutions, and values that have kept it strong.”

         I have just two problems with those stirring words: First, the Times assumes that we Americans are rational beings, when our very irrationality is what produced Trump’s election and re-election to begin with.

         Second, the Times assumes that, thanks to our Constitution, “Mr. Trump can’t run for another term.” Having observed Trump’s gleeful shredding of established rules and customs since 1978, I’m less sanguine about the likelihood that he’ll respect a fragile old piece of parchment paper when 2028 arrives. Unless Trump chokes on a Whopper before then, he’ll try to amend the Constitution so he can remain in office forever, much like his role models Vladmir Putin and Xi Jinping. And if he fails, Trump will find some other way to command our attention until the Grim Reaper finally drags him away, kicking and screaming, much as Trump did when the Secret Service agents drove him off the Ellipse at the January 6 insurrection.

Frank Rizzo tried it

         Philadelphians of my age have already traveled this road. Frank Rizzo— who shared Trump’s hunger for attention, his macho posturing, his blue-collar constituency, and his inflated notions of his own abilities— was twice elected mayor in the 1970s. After he sought unsuccessfully to change the City Charter in 1978 so he could seek a third consecutive term, he ran again without success three more times until he dropped dead of a heart attack midway through the 1991 campaign. (Unlike the U.S. Constitution, which limits a president to two terms, Philadelphia’s charter limits a mayor only to two consecutive terms.) Gracious departures weren’t Rizzo’s thing, nor are they Trump’s.

         In retrospect, I have argued, Rizzo’s tempestuous earthly sojourn was a blessing in disguise, forcing many traditionally reticent Philadelphians to discover strengths they hadn’t previously known they possessed. The persistence of the unlikely anti-Rizzo coalition even to this day explains to some extent Philadelphia’s subsequent emergence as a world-class center of arts, education, medical research, cuisine, upscale hotels, and gleaming high-rise buildings.

         As I’ve suggested before, the good news about Trump is: He’s neither a fascist nor a racist nor a misogynist. Nor is he a Republican or a conservative. Membership in these groups requires the sort of ideological commitment and attention span that Trump lacks. He is a narcissist, and everything he says and does is calculated to feed his insatiable hunger for attention and approval. That narcissism renders him vulnerable to dedicated fascists and bigots capable of massaging his ego.

Navalny’s advice

         So, what can you and I do in the coming years to protect and improve our cherished if fallible democratic system while waiting for Trump to leave?

         The answer isn’t necessarily political. It begins with each individual’s perception of himself or herself as someone who matters. Resolve to live your life as a free man or woman— a citizen, not a subject. Speak up about matters that concern you and encourage others to do the same. Engage in dialogue. Listen respectfully to those who disagree with you. Say no to public nastiness by committing random acts of kindness, starting with your immediate household and spreading outward to your relatives, friends, neighbors, and colleagues. (In my office building, I’ve begin wishing “Have a nice day!” to my elevator mates.)

         Remind yourself that Trump and his enablers are merely noisy manifestations of something each of us confronts every day: adversity. Coping with adversity is what life is all about. It’s the mark of healthy democracies.

Yes, I know: Some people can be destroyed by adversity. But others are strengthened by it. Thanks to Trump’s fanning the flames of misogyny and bigotry, millions of women and minorities targeted by Trump’s rhetoric have summoned the courage to stand up and fight back. That awakening will persist long after Trump has gone the way of Rutherford B. Hayes.    

         What autocrats most fear, the late Russian democracy activist Alexei Navalny remarked in his recently published prison diary, is ordinary people who “tell the truth, spread the truth. This is the most powerful weapon…. Everyone has this weapon. So make use of it.”

         I would add: Thanks to the Internet, today everyone really possesses this weapon.

The Ralph Houk question

         What else?

         —Cultivate a healthy skepticism toward everything you read and hear— especially on the Internet or from Trump. Remind yourself what newspaper editors used to teach cub reporters: “If your mother tells you she loves you, check it out.”

         —In any encounter, ask yourself the “Ralph Houk question” and act accordingly. (Houk, the former New York Yankees manager, was wounded in battle during World War II. Years later, as he prepared to manage his first World Series game, Houk was asked whether he felt nervous. “Why?” he replied. “Is somebody going to be shooting at me?”)

—Take your cue from Marie Curie: “Nothing in life is to be feared. It is only to be understood.”

         —Keep your expectations reasonable. Remember the Talmud’s advice: “It is not upon thee to finish the work; neither art thou free to desist from it.”

         —As needed, repeat the four wisest words ever spoken (in good times as well as bad): “This too shall pass.”

Enjoy Dan Rottenberg’s newest book, The Price We Paid: An Oral History of Penn’s Struggle to Join the Ivy League, 1950-55. You can also visit his website at www.danrottenberg.com