So Trump’s indicted again, on unprecedentedly serious charges, which will be harder to prove than the documents case. I hold two views simultaneously:
- This needed to be done.
- Any good from convicting Trump will be longer-term rather than soon.
In other words, our situation is dreadful.
Not the very best people
The people with whom Trump surrounds himself are … not the “best people,” as he promised. (But if you are surprised that Trump has failed to keep a promise, you should have asked Mrs. Trump, or Mrs. Trump, or Mrs. Trump, for that matter, or maybe Stormy Daniels.) The list is one that a novelist would blush to invent: Mike Pence, the pious fraud who did Trump’s bidding right up until the moment doing so stopped serving his interests and now presents himself as the second coming of St. Francis; Rudy Giuliani, the knee-walking grifter who still remembers enough law that he already has stipulated the falsehood of his stolen-election nonsense—that swill is fine for the slavering proles in the Fox News audience, but even Giuliani wouldn’t try to defend it in court; Roger Stone, literally the kind of cuckold he likes to accuse others of being metaphorically; etc. And now Trump’s valet, Walt Nauta, is facing the prospect of time in a federal penitentiary after what reports describe as a truly clownish cloak-and-dagger affair involving “shush” emojis, sneaking through the hedges at Mar-a-Lago, and roping another minion into a scheme to destroy evidence when he did not have the technical chops to get the job done himself. These putzes make the White House Plumbers of Watergate infamy look like the Count of Monte Cristo crossed with Professor Moriarty. Criminal masterminds, they ain’t.
Kevin D. Williamson. Williamson suggests that Trump’s valets will prove the weakest of links that blow his criminal defenses away.
And yet, half of America prefers him
[O]ne thing is clear to me now: Donald Trump is a cretin who should never have risen so high in American public life. The fact that he has done so, and might take back the White House, is a giant flashing neon sign of our nation’s decadence.
And yet, the question that so many elites never seem to ask themselves: why is it that despite everything we know about Trump, half the country prefers him as president to Joe Biden?
“Cretin” is one way of putting it. “Incandescently stupid” is another:
Miles Taylor, former chief of staff at Homeland Security, recently told a podcast that part of his job was dumbing down security briefings for the “incandescently stupid” president.
This fifty-page memo that we would normally give to any other president about what his options are is something Trump literally can’t read. … And so I had to write this incandescently stupid memo called something like, “Afghanistan, How to Put America First and Win.” And then bullet by bullet, I summed up this highly classified memo into Trump’s sort of bombastic language because it was the only way he was gonna understand. I mean, I literally said in there, “You know, if we leave Afghanistan too fast, the terrorists will call us losers. But if we wanna be seen as winners, we need to make sure the Afghan forces have the strength to push back against these criminals.” I mean, it was that dumb and that’s how you had to talk to him.
Some of you will know Taylor as “Anonymous,” author of a famous New York Times essay. He eventually quit the administration (when it was more convenient for him to do so), but do you know what he didn’t do? He didn’t say, “Mr. President, you are not smart enough to have this job, and you can’t even read a proper briefing. One of us has to go, and I imagine it will be me, but this needed to be said.”
And yet half the country prefers him. It took me a long time to internalize how that could be, and I think the phrases “flyover country” and “deplorables” are evocative. David Brooks has some thoughts on that, too.
Mitch blew it
Trump could well be convicted in one or more of these trials before Election Day 2024. And he could well win the election, sending him to the White House instead of federal prison. Far from vindicating the rule of law, such an outcome would make a mockery of it.
…
[T]he last opportunity we had to contain and partially neutralize the civically pestilential influence of Donald Trump on our polity was February 13, 2021. That’s the day Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell voted to acquit Donald Trump for his actions on and leading up to the events of January 6. While describing Trump’s words and deeds in the run-up to the insurrectionary violence on Capitol Hill as “disgraceful,” McConnell nonetheless preferred to let the judicial branch of government solve his Trump problem for him, declaring, “We have a criminal justice system in this country. We have civil litigation. And former presidents are not immune from being held accountable by either one.”
In the annals of shirked political responsibility, that has to deserve a special prize. It would have taken ten more votes in the Senate to convict Trump in his second impeachment. Had McConnell taken a public stand against the former president and whipped others in his party to do the same, Trump might have been barred from ever holding public office again. That would have been a political solution to what was and remains a fundamentally political problem.
Instead, we’re left with the legal solution McConnell preferred—and the considerable risk that politics may well overwhelm and devour it.
I feel as if we’re in a tragedy, inexorably working itself out. The latest charges needed to be brought, whatever the political and social consequences, but those consequences could be very weird and ugly.
I pray for America every day. I carefully thought about what I think the country needs, and those are the things I wrote down to ask God for. But I cannot gin myself up to thinking that all we need is for the cup of a 2024 Presidential election between Biden and Trump to be taken from us (two men of their age dying of natural causes, perhaps?). Rather, I feel that “there’s no way out but through.” That doesn’t really lessen the dread.
What if … ?
My mother asked me recently what would happen if Donald Trump were convicted of a crime and then elected president. Would he command the military from inside a prison cell? Would his Secret Service detail be incarcerated with him? Could he pardon himself?
As the (ugh) lawyer in the family, I’m supposed to know. I didn’t, because no one does. The idea of American voters handing presidential power to an inmate is so darkly absurd that the Founders didn’t think to address it.
If we could travel through time and warn James Madison to provide some guidance in the Constitution about how a coup-plotting criminal might be expected to faithfully execute the laws, I imagine he’d stop work and tear up the document. There’d be no point in continuing. A people corrupt enough to force such a dilemma on themselves will abandon the Madisonian project in due course.
…
[One of the Trumpist responses to the indictment was that] Trump honestly believed the election was stolen. “Good luck proving that Trump knew he lost the election, when he—whether behind closed doors or in public, whether with one person or massive crowds—has consistently maintained that he won with an apparent passionate sincerity,” Rich Lowry tweeted. It’s a fair point. How might you prove specific intent to defraud if the defendant ended up talking himself into believing sincerely that he’s the one who’s been defrauded?
One thing you could do is show that Trump did seem to believe that he’d lost, at least at times. “You’re too honest,” he told Mike Pence when Pence claimed he had no authority to block the certification of electoral votes. “Just say that the election was corrupt and leave the rest to me and the Republican congressmen,” he urged acting Attorney General Jeffrey Rosen. Allegedly he described some of his own lawyers’ conspiracy theories about vote-rigging as “crazy.”
Only God and Trump himself know to what extent his brain is capable of separating truth from fiction when the truth cuts against his interests. But there were, it seems, at least glimmers of awareness periodically that Biden had won. (“Can you believe I lost to that f—ing guy? That f—ing corpse?”) Smith might be able to prove that Trump knew the truth. Certainly he can prove that every trustworthy figure within a country mile of him knew it, and told him so.
But even if he can’t, pause here and reflect that the “Trump really believed this insanity” insanity defense is being offered on behalf of a person who’s 35 points ahead in the Republican presidential primary. Much of the right will soon be claiming simultaneously that he can’t be convicted because he can’t distinguish self-serving delusions from reality—and also that he should be president again, with America’s nuclear arsenal at his command.
We are in the grip of a grim, despairing rebellion against reality that imagines itself to be the engine of moral progress.
The end of the world as we know it is not the end of the world.
You can read most of my more impromptu stuff here (cathartic venting) and here (the only social medium I frequent, because people there are quirky, pleasant and real). Both should work in your RSS aggregator, like Feedly or Reeder, should you want to make a habit of it. I’m even playing around a bit here, but uncertain whether I’ll persist.
Tipsy Teetotaler ن 