Near the end of Donald Trump’s 93-minute speech in the final hours of the Republican National Convention — mere days before President Joe Biden officially announced he was dropping out of the race for president — a woman sitting with the Illinois delegation was heard saying, “Wrap it up, Don!”
As I crushed against photographers laden with long-lens cameras jostling against journalists clutching tiny notebooks, Secret Service agents and convention organisers were trying to keep the aisles clear, periodically ordering people to stand back, clear a path, “take your shot and move on”.
The now official Republican presidential candidate — speaking to a crowd hyped (or bemused, if you’re Melania) by the preceding performance — had started with a classic Trumpian non-sequitur: “Thank you, Kid Rock, sometimes referred to as Bob.”
He initially stayed on script, reading out an extremely detailed reconstruction of his brush with an assassin’s bullet and frequently referencing being saved by “God”. For the party faithful and Christian fundamentalists, it was exactly what they wanted to hear.
But then the interminable asides, and the asides-within-asides, began. At one point they veered into something about society being on the verge of finding a cure for cancer, but then at times became very intimate. Trump’s rhetorician style, and its connection to traditions of populism, finally clicked: it felt like he was speaking directly to us.
Earlier, JD Vance, Trump’s now official running mate, took to the stage, declaring, “Trump’s vision is so simple, yet so powerful. We’re done with catering to Wall Street, we’re here to fight for the working man.”
“Fight! Fight! Fight!” yelled the crowd.
It was perfectly pitched, 21st-century, mirror-world populism: Trump, a New York real estate mogul and inheritor of roughly US$400 million, and Vance, a guy who worked as a venture capitalist for six years, taking the fight to Wall Street and Silicon Valley.
Claims and contradictions
“It’s like the entire world has been turned upside down…”
Thus spake Donald Trump’s son, Donald Trump Jr, the night before. It’s a sentiment that Republicans and Democrats, Americans and Australians, can all agree with. The point of contention is how the world got turned upside down, or who did the overturning.
For the Trump-dominated Republican Party, the key enemies in 2024 are internal: illegal immigrants, “the radical left”. Dealing with the former is simple — or at least the slogan is, with one sign in the crowd reading: “Mass Deportations Now”. The “Biden border” is a national crisis, with an easily chanted remedy: “Build the wall” (never mind the “astronomical” cost).
When it comes to the “radical” left, a large part of the solution seems to involve public toilet signs. Trump’s quip in his speech, “We will not have men playing in women’s sports”, got one of the biggest roars of the night.
Other examples:
- “Democrats are good at using safe words, but terrible at building safe neighbourhoods and safe cities” (Dallas Mayor Eric Johnson);
- “Left-wing activists are pretending to be educators, teaching our kids that there are 57 genders — but they can’t even define what a woman is!” (Donald Trump Jr);
- “Male athletes, guys my height — 6’5″ — are swimming in women’s sports, destroying the dreams of young girls who have trained every minute of their lives” (Eric Trump);
- “Under Trump we prospered, we were richer, inflation was low — and there were two genders” (Congressman Matt Gaetz)
Gaetz’s claim that under Trump back in 2020 there were two genders gets to the heart of the RNC’s persuasion strategy: a parade of speakers telling the crowd, over and over again, that “things were good with Donald Trump, but everything has gone to hell under Joe Biden”.
Writing for The New Republic, Parker Molloy has explained how the GOP’s strategy of using anti-trans rhetoric as a rallying cry is not a bug but a feature of its platform: “The persistence and escalation of these attacks suggest that the party sees political gain in marginalising and othering the LGBTQ community.” This has direct national policy implications, as laid out on the Republican Party’s website: “We will defund schools that engage in inappropriate political indoctrination of our children using federal taxpayer dollars.”
Meanwhile, Republicans love (mis)quoting Voltaire to the party faithful: “I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.” This gets similar applause to calls to “end” cancel culture.
Pivot points
Ultimately, fact-checking wild claims and pointing out contradictions is a waste of time. It’s more useful to try and understand the ideological impulses (or, if you prefer, the “vibes”) at play.
In MAGA-land, Biden is weak; Trump is strong. Biden is bad; Trump is good. Biden has been wrong about every major government decision of the past 50 years; Trump has been right about all of them. Biden can’t do anything; Trump can and will do whatever he wants.
But how will these talking points pivot in light of Biden dropping out of the race? References to age aside, they’re pretty malleable, especially if Kamala Harris tops the ticket, with JD Vance already tying the VP firmly to Biden’s legacy.
The question now is how Donald Trump, as the Democrats fall behind a candidate presumably under 65, can deliver a message beyond his rusted-on faithful.
As Trump’s speech dribbled towards its end, it felt like the spell the Republican Party had been doing its best to cast — Trump as “fighter”, as strongman — came undone a little. He said a lot of inflammatory things, but also he sounded like a tired old man.
What would the whole Trump show look like outside this giant room? Maybe the televised footage of pastors likening Trump to Jesus, of Hulk Hogan ripping his shirt off, of Kid Rock removing his leather jacket to reveal his pot belly mid “Fight” chant, would embarrass more moderate Republicans than it inspired, and push undecided voters away — even with the “bullet bump”.
Looking back through my hundreds of photos from Trump’s speech, and the minutes of him standing around onstage afterwards, I’m struck by how often he has his eyes closed. And every now and then, he just stares off into space.
With Biden’s withdrawal from the race, Sleepy Don is suddenly the only old man in the room.
What does Joe Biden’s decision to drop out of the race mean for the 2024 US election? Who should the Democrats nominate — and can they beat Donald Trump? Let us know your thoughts by writing to letters@crikey.com.au. Please include your full name to be considered for publication. We reserve the right to edit for length and clarity.
