To better appreciate how philosophically erratic Donald Trump has been over the years, consider this: Less than three years ago, Donald Trump was criticizing Governor Mitt Romney’s comments about “self-deportation.” Today, Mr. Trump is advocating forced (and mass) deportation.
The Trump record on this matter is worth reviewing. A few days ago on NBC’s Meet the Press, Mr. Trump endorsed mass deportation of the estimated 11 million illegal immigrants in America.
“They have to go,” he said.
Then, two nights ago, Fox News Channel’s Bill O’Reilly asked Mr. Trump if he envisions “federal police kicking in the doors in barrios around the country dragging families out and putting them on a bus” as a means to deport everyone he intends to deport. Trump answered, “We have to start a process where we take back our country. Our country is going to hell. We have to start a process, Bill, where we take back our country.” And what a process that will be.
Now let’s go back to just after the 2012 election when Trump criticized Mitt Romney’s “crazy policy of self-deportation, which was maniacal. It sounded as bad as it was, and he lost all of the Latino vote … He lost the Asian vote. He lost everybody who is inspired to come into this country.”
That same year, Trump said:
For people that have been here for years that have been hard-workers, have good jobs, they’re supporting their family — it’s very, very tough to just say, ”By the way, 22 years, you have to leave. Get out.” … I have to tell you on a human basis, how do you throw somebody out that’s lived in this country for 20 years.
And just two years before that, this is what Trump had to say:
You have American interests hiring [illegal immigrants], absolutely. And many cases, they’re great workers. The biggest problem is you have great people come in from Mexico working crops and cutting lawns that I’m not sure a lot of Americans are going to take those jobs. That’s the dichotomy. That’s the problem. You have a lot of great people coming in doing a lot of work. And I’m not so sure that a lot of other people are doing that work, so it’s a very tough problem.
For those with inquiring minds, immigration is only one issue among many where Trump has shown massive inconsistencies, as Max Boot writes about here. As I’ve repeatedly pointed out – and will continue to point out – Mr. Trump was a registered Democrat for most of the last decade. He gave large sums of money to leading progressive politicians, and he supported liberal policies on a whole range of matters, from health care to taxes to guns to abortion to drugs to much else. To this day, he is an opponent of entitlement reform and supports affirmative action.
(Mr. Trump’s effort to compare himself to Ronald Reagan is risible. Mr. Reagan was elected president in 1980. In 1964, he was a great champion for Barry Goldwater. He served as a successful, conservative governor of California for two terms. And he was one of the key figures in the creation of the modern American conservative movement. Donald Trump, on the other hand, was a registered Democrat when it was being led by John Kerry, Nancy Pelosi, and Harry Reid. Mr. Trump was a particularly big donor in elections that brought Pelosi and Reid to power. And he has shown no interest and made no contributions over the years to conservative philosophy and ideas.)
What’s fascinating to me is that for many Trump supporters, the kind of flip-flops and philosophical transgressions that would disqualify any other candidate many times over doesn’t apply to Trump. The question is: Why? What is it about Trump that causes some people on the right to suspend their critical judgments, renounce fidelity to conservative ideology and policies, and extend immunity to Trump in ways they would never to anyone else?
The answers vary person to person, of course. (It’s worth saying here that Trump’s support cuts across ideological lines. Warren Henry and Emily Ekins have written articles for The Federalist here and here examining who Trump supporters are.) But some measure of support for Trump on the right is clearly rooted in deep anger and disenchantment, resentment, and frustration.
This is a populist moment – and for them, Trump is Mr. Anti-Establishment. They see him as the confrontational outsider, unscripted and not politically correct, a person who can shake up the system. Donald Trump is The Great Disrupter. In addition, he knows how to “school” the “establishment” types and has their “number.” The enemy of my enemy is my friend. It’s time to burn down the village – in this case, Washington D.C. — to save the village. And if the man lighting the match is vulgar, inconsistent, and unprincipled, no matter. If in this cause those on the right end up defending and supporting what my Ethics and Public Policy Center colleague Yuval Levin calls “the least conservative Republican presidential aspirant in living memory” – Donald Trump — so be it.
People are entitled to their anger, and they are entitled to support Mr. Trump. But here’s what they’re not entitled to: They cannot take conservatism, reinvent its meaning, and attach it to whatever cause or character they happen to identify with. Conservatism is a philosophy; it has a history and a core set of principles. It’s been shaped by towering intellectual figures. The effort by some on the right to disfigure conservatism in order to justify their support for Mr. Trump is unfortunate. It is also incoherent. Conservatism is not synonymous with alienation and resentments, crudity, and unfiltered rage.
People can support Donald Trump, but they cannot support him on conservative grounds.
Donald Trump is Many Things. Conservative Isn’t One of Them
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Controversies come and go so fast in the Trump administration that it’s all too easy to lose sight of individual issues. It is, therefore, worth remembering that before the events in Charlottesville grabbed public attention on Saturday, the president had been making news with his bellicose statements against North Korea and Venezuela.
Unlike many of the other victims of Trump’s invective, Kim Jong-un and Nicolas Maduro both deserve to be vilified. They are vicious dictators who show no regard for human life or the basic norms of civilized society. Kim’s villainy is of a higher order than Maduro’s—North Korea is the most repressive place on Earth—and he poses a much greater threat to the United States. Maduro isn’t developing nuclear weapons or threatening to attack U.S. territory. He does, however, deserve considerable calumny for destroying the last remnants of Venezuela’s democracy, whereas Kim Jong-un has simply continued the totalitarianism that he inherited from his father and grandfather.
It is entirely fit and proper for a president of the United States to denounce both Kim and Maduro. But that doesn’t mean that the way Trump went about is smart. He is, in fact, playing right into the dictators’ hands with his over-the-top threats.
He warned Kim Jong-un: “North Korea best not make any more threats to the United States. They will be met with fire and fury like the world has never seen.” Far from backing down after these comments were criticized, he doubled down, saying that the U.S. was “locked and loaded” for war. If taken seriously, Trump’s comments suggest that he is prepared to wage war not in response to North Korean actions but simply North Korean words.
There is, in fact, no sign that the U.S. is getting ready for conflict. If that were the case, the U.S. armed forces would be evacuating 200,000 American civilians from South Korea and rushing in the additional forces called for under the Pentagon’s war plan—Oplan 5027. That’s not happening, and senior officials—Secretary of State Rex Tillerson, Secretary of Defense Jim Mattis, National Security Advisor H.R. McMaster, and Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Gen. Joe Dunford—all say that conflict is not “imminent.”
Trump’s saber-rattling is unlikely to cause North Korea to stop its nuclear program. If anything, Kim will only redouble his efforts in the face of this American threat, while basking in further confirmation that the U.S. really is, as his propaganda claims, a warmonger intent on destroying North Korea. With Kim already on the verge of acquiring the capability to hit the U.S. with nuclear-tipped ICBMs, either the North Korean despot will call Trump’s bluff, leading to a loss of American credibility, or he will invite a catastrophic conflict. Neither option, needless to say, is a good one.
Trump’s threat of a “military option” against Venezuela is even more misguided. The U.S. is not going to invade Venezuela no matter how many human-rights abuses Maduro commits because we don’t have any national-security interest in doing so. Normally Trump himself is the first one to argue against humanitarian interventions, but, in this case, he allowed his rhetoric to run away with him.
Whatever his motivation, the Defense Department is even less prepared and willing to attack Venezuela than it is North Korea. The only concrete consequences of Trump’s wild threat is to force America’s Latin American allies to distance themselves from Washington and to hand Maduro a propaganda victory. Like Kim Jong-un, he, too, justifies his dictatorship as a defense against Yanqui colonialism and militarism, and Trump’s words seem to provide support for his propaganda. Moreover, assuming that Trump’s words don’t lead Maduro to change his repressive policies, the failure to back up this threat will further dent American credibility.
Trump found hyperbole to be a useful tool in the real estate business and his pursuit of the White House. But a president in control of the world’s mightiest military cannot afford so much loose talk without doing grave damage to American security and running the risk of needless conflict. Many hoped that the arrival of Gen. John Kelly as White House chief of staff would lead to a more moderate tone from the president. So far it hasn’t happened, but it’s never too late for Trump to adopt Theodore Roosevelt’s motto: “speak softly and carry a big stick.”
We ignored the warning signs.
The only morally acceptable response to the events in Charlottesville is full-throated condemnation. Full stop. This is not the time for moral equivalencies. The barbarism committed by a white supremacist in the name of white supremacy should not elicit sympathy or a deeper exploration of root causes. The root cause of this weekend’s murderous violence is racism. The end.
When addressing the events in Virginia on Saturday, the president declined to condemn and isolate the fringe racist extremists within his supporters’ ranks. Those elements heard his silence loud and clear, as did his more responsible partners—including Kenneth Frazier, the CEO of Merck who resigned from Trump’s advisory council on American manufacturing in protest. The president tried to correct for the oversight on Monday, but the damage was done. Presidents don’t get mulligans.
Yet it is because Trump passed on such an easy opportunity to make examples of subjects so obviously worthy of condemnation that all Americans should engage in some introspection. We posture self-righteously at our moral peril.
The condemnations of Trump and the alt-right proliferate on Facebook and Twitter, in part, because it’s easy. Charlottesville is not complicated. There is nothing morally ambiguous about the actors on that stage. Anachronistic fascists bearing the symbols of racial hatred and genocide are a familiar adversary. It is a dangerous adversary, to be sure, but also one that lost the struggle for hearts and minds generations ago. Charlottesville may provide observers with a rare moral binary, but it may also be the culmination of our refusal to tackle more abstruse conflicts over the last 18 months.
The vehicular attack on peaceful demonstrators this weekend was preceded hours earlier by a violent melee in the streets between white supremacists and counter-demonstrators. This wasn’t the first time in recent history that two demonstrators flying, respectively, the symbols of Nazism and Bolshevism have clashed in American streets. It’s just the first time we as a country stood up and took notice.
In June of last year, a group of neo-Nazis emboldened by Donald Trump’s casual winking in the direction of their movement took to Sacramento’s streets armed with permits allowing them to demonstrate. They were met by a group of counter-protesters and a street battle ensued. “By Any Means Necessary,” a counter-protest group organized by individuals who formed the nucleus of what would become “Antifa,” engaged in a blood-curdling combat with white supremacists. Ten people were injured, some critically, as both groups attacked one another with bats, knives, and other improvised implements. It was not, however, the neo-Nazis who inaugurated violence outside the California state capitol.
“If I had to say who started it and who didn’t, I’d say the permitted group didn’t start it,” said protective services division head and California Highway Patrol officer George Granada. “They came onto the grounds and were met almost instantly with a group of protesters there not to talk.” Authorities alleged that the “Antifa” organizers had prepared for weeks to meet the white supremacist rally with the express intention of shutting it down. One year later, former middle school teacher and “Antifa” organizer Yvette Felarca was arrested and charged with assault and inciting a riot in connection with her role in that event.
Considering the heat of a presidential election year and the relevance of this attack, coverage of this event was muted. Even at the time, this nightmare obviously portended more violence, but few Americans seemed to want to explore its relevance. Perhaps the spectacle was representative of a breakdown of the American social compact too terrible to contemplate. Perhaps it was too evocative of Weimar to contemplate. Maybe the moral complexities of the situation and the ambiguity of the heroes and villains involved rendered the story impossible to relate in a simple soundbite. Whatever the case, we didn’t reckon with what it meant.
There have been other, briefer and less violent confrontations between alt-right agitators and “Antifa,” to say nothing of the confrontations between both organizations and law enforcement, but none of them seared themselves into the national consciousness like the events in Virginia. All the while, a culture of romanticized political violence was taking root in the psyches of America’s political activists.
For a year, the left has muddled through an intramural debate over whether it was noble to physically assault white supremacists (like the kind that was meted out against Richard Spencer earlier this year). For its part, the alt-right has evinced violence. “A man wielding a sword hunted and killed a black man in New York City,” National Review’s David French noted. “A member of an ‘alt-Reich Nation’ Facebook group killed another black man in Maryland. A man opened fire on two immigrants at a bar in Kansas, killing one. A white supremacist in Portland murdered two men on a train who intervened when he harassed a Muslim and her black friend.” In 2016, the violence committed by Trump supporters at his explicit behest was well covered, but the organized campaign of counter-violence—a campaign that long outlasted the president’s incitement—was not.
Donald Trump is a coward. He has repeatedly refused to cast out the most undeserving elements of his coalition, but his cowardice is not unique. America has slouched silently toward this moment of crisis, ignoring all the glaring warning signs along the way. Amid our cowardice, we are sleepwalking back into a terrible past. Absent steely conviction on all our parts, the worst is yet to come.
The nucleolus of Trump.
You can choose to have whatever opinion you have on the president’s statement today condemning white supremacists, but it’s hard to believe he would have read it out if he’d had his druthers. No, the real Donald Trump was the one we saw on Saturday when he decided to condemn violence “on many sides” in response to the deliberately provocative and intentionally violent neo-Nazi march in Charlottesville, Virginia; when he decided to refer to the events as “sad” in tweets; when he wished “best regards” to those injured by the car that was deliberately smashed into them, killing 1 and injuring 20. When he acted in that way, he was operating according to his instinct. And his instinct said: Do not attack the white supremacists.
Why? The answer, I think, has everything to do with how he became president. Let me lay it out for you.
One of the mysteries of Trump’s rise in 2015 was just how meteoric it was. A week after he declared for president he came in second place in a Suffolk University poll in New Hampshire with 11 percent; 29 days after he came down the escalator, he was in the lead in the Suffolk poll nationally. He never surrendered that lead. How did Trump happen so fast?
The usual explanation is that he was just so famous and people didn’t realize how famous he was, how potent his brand would be. Sure. But that explanation is insufficient because Kim Kardashian is famous in a similar way and I doubt she would have led in a Democratic Party poll in 2015. The question is, whose early support for Trump itself played a key role in leading others to take him seriously and help propel him into the nomination?
The answer to this question is one Trump himself knows, I think. If there’s one thing politicians can feel in their marrow, even a non-pol pol like Trump, it’s who is in their base and what it is that binds the base to them. Only in this case, I’m not talking about a base as it’s commonly understood—the wellspring of a politician’s mass support. I’m talking about a nucleus—the very heart of a base, the root of the root of support. Trump found himself with 14 percent support in a month. Those early supporters had been primed to rally to him for a long time.
For years, under the radar and likely with the guidance of his political guru Roger Stone, Trump built a powerful and loyal following through what could be called—yes, I know this is going to sound condescending and elitist, but what can I say, I’m condescending and elitist—the proletarian media.
I’m talking about Alex Jones and Infowars, the conspiracy-theory radio-show/website on which Trump has appeared for years; the radio show has 2 million listeners a week, and Jones was said in 2011 to have a larger online presence than Rush Limbaugh or Glenn Beck. I’m talking about the WWE, which televises wrestling and which, in 2014, could claim a weekly audience of 15 million and on whose programs Trump intermittently served as a kind of Special Guest Villain in the manner of a villain on the 1960s Batman show. I’m talking about American Media, the company that owns the National Enquirer, the Star, the Sun, and the Weekly World News run by Trump’s close friend David Pecker; the combined weekly circulation of its publications is well in excess of 2 million. Trump helped make the birther issue a major one for a month in 2011 by talking about it on “Meet the Press” and “Good Morning America,” on network television. But he was surfacing an issue that had been roiling in the proletarian media, stirred and shaken constantly by his political guru, Roger Stone.
We’ve heard ad nauseam about Trump’s symbiotic relation to the New York City tabloids in the late 1980s and early 1990s, but in point of fact, that relationship declined sharply as his personal life began to calm down, as his proven ability to work the system began to shrink in importance, as Rudy Giuliani’s New York boomed, and new tabloid stars emerged (including Rudy himself).
So his relationship with the Post and the Daily News was replaced in time by a different relationship with a different kind of tabloid media—which is actually far rougher, far harder edged, considerably poorer, and overwhelmingly male. (It’s a mistake to think that the New York Post‘s audience is lumpen. There was a time when the Post outsold the New York Times in Manhattan. ) Trump’s goal was no longer to be the most talked-about person in New York City. It was something else, something larger.
Talk about flying under the radar. These media institutions have no cultural purchase whatsoever except for the contempt they breed. Nobody in the elites ever paid attention to them except to goggle at their ludicrousness as a passing Porsche on the way to the beach might goggle at a townie home with cars up on blocks in the front yard; or to express horror at the potential libelousness of the charges hurled in them. Such coverage would, in essence, wonder at the crudity of some Americans, and then move on.
By paying them heed, Trump was not only feeding his inexhaustible maw for attention. He was reaching a group of disaffected Americans entirely on the margins of American life, politically and culturally and organizationally. The dedicated prole-media audience, which might make up 5 or 6 percent of the electorate, is not enough to make a base. But it’s enough to make a nucleus. And what they knew is that he didn’t dismiss them. They knew he was listening to them. They knew he wanted to talk to them, wanted to hear from them.
They saw how he was jazzed by their conspiracy theories. He loathed Barack Obama as much as they did. He too thought Obama had been born in another country, that something untoward had happened to bury the fact, and that there had been a master plan to get this kid in Hawaii to the White House put in the works decades earlier. He liked them. So they liked him. A lot. And when he began his run for office by saying America was a dump and had left its best people behind by making bad deals with foreigners, they knew he was talking about what had been done to them, and they came to love him.
It was not this nucleus that showed up in Charlottesville. These were, instead, subatomic elements inside what we might call the nucleolus of Trump’s support, the tiny machine inside the atomic machine that forms the core of the Trump base. And that nucleolus is governed by rage, hatred, a sense of being wronged, and the loathing of others due to race and national origin. They are numerically insignificant to a man who secured 63 million votes in November 2016. But he—he, not I—seems to feel they are necessary to the constitution of his core. And he basically let them off with a mild warning.
Podcast: A ugly old adversary reemerges.
In the first COMMENTARY podcast of the week, I ask Noah Rothman and Abe Greenwald whether we are seeing a rise in extremist political violence in the United States and what it portends. And then we talk about what it means for the president to have chosen not to take the layup of denouncing Nazis when he had the chance. Give a listen.
Don’t forget to subscribe to our podcast on iTunes.
Heroes in obscurity.
Perhaps the best book I ever read was Natan Sharansky’s Fear No Evil, a memoir of his time in Soviet custody and an explanation of how he outwitted his KGB interrogators as they sought to break him. Almost every activist imagines that he is speaking truth to power, but to do so when power is overwhelming takes both courage and skill. But while the KGB sought totalitarian control, they could be subtle. That is one adjective that cannot be applied to the Islamic State (ISIS, ISIL, Daesh).
ISIS brought a reign of terror down upon the territory it controlled. And while many more residents welcomed and, indeed, collaborated with the group, others resisted. Some have written about the tremendous risks that local and often anonymous journalists took to transmit the reality of life under ISIS to the outside world.
Until now, little has been known about how those arrested and tortured by the Islamic State resisted their captors. A new International Center for the Study of Violent Extremism report, “The ISIS Prison System: Its Structure, Departmental Affiliations, Processes, Conditions, and Practices of Psychological and Physical Torture,” changes that.
Utilizing interviews with dozens of ISIS defectors, returnees, and former prisoners, it traces the process and mechanism by which various organizations within the Islamic State would arrest prisoners, process them, interrogate them, and seek to indoctrinate them. After all, while ISIS would execute many prisoners and use their murders to produce grizzly recruitment videos, many other detainees would serve sentences and be subject to re-education. Many sought to deceive their captors. In one instance, cited by the report:
One of the former detainees, a 28-year-old man, explained the way some detainees manipulated ISIS jailors:
We would pretend to be reading their books. We would act as though we are asking each other questions from the books. In the classes we would engage with the Shari [the sharia’s lecturer]. If they come [ISIS guards] and see that we are reading their book, they would spare us from their wrath.
The first course was reported to last for forty days.
Others coached fellow detainees on how to fool interrogators:
Upon the decision of interrogators, detainees would be presented in front of an ISIS sharia judge. This phase often preceded the conclusion of elaborate torture and marked the end of interrogation. Former detainees did not report being told about the end of their interrogation. Moreover, the guards only took them to the same interrogation room without telling them that they would now appear in front of an ISIS sharia judge. However, the accounts of one of the interviewees, 54-year-old man, indicate that detainees became aware of signs of this change and how to respond appropriately to avoid further negative repercussions:
The brothers [fellow detainees] taught us how to deal with them [ISIS captors]. First rule: never confess to the interrogator. If you are seated on the floor, that means you are still being interrogated. Second rule: never incriminate yourself in front of the judge. If you know you did something, you should avoid mentioning anybody with any knowledge about it. You ought to bring the names of those without any knowledge of any breach of sharia law for example; those from ISIS or those who sympathize with them. Those names should be part of your story, the thing they arrested you for, but not aware of anything you did against ISIS. And you would know when you appear in front of the sharia judge. The treatment improves. He would ask whether you talked to your family. You would be seated on a chair. If you do well, you will still have to be detained for more, be you innocent or guilty. You would know if there is a punishment or not.
Once ISIS’ sharia judges make their decision, the detainees are taken back to the communal cell, except for those sentenced to execution.
And, in another, one poor father sought to outwit ISIS foreign fighters to protect his daughters:
Men were also targeted for arrest when an ISIS cadre was unsuccessful talking a father into giving his daughter for marriage or the ISIS cadre coveted the man’s wife. These instances usually ended in executions although there were exceptions as this defector told us:
So there was an old man he had two girls. One of the foreign fighters came and eventually offered him two million Syrian pounds and the old man was trying to stall him. Finally they arrested the old man and accused him of being a spy for the regime. So when they detained him as a spy it means he will be killed. So the old man gave in and said you can marry my daughter but we cannot have a wedding when I am detained. So they released him the next day. When he got out he pretended he was preparing for the wedding but he took his daughters and escaped to Turkey.
There is much, much more. The ICSVE report goes further than any published unclassified source (and likely many classified ones) to detail just how the ISIS punishment system worked. But, as Iraqis and Syrians emerge from the tyranny of the Islamic State, understanding how some resisted is crucial, if only to undermine globally other would-be totalitarian regimes.
Natan Sharansky is and was a hero for its resistance to Soviet tyranny. The tyranny of the Islamic State has produced other heroes not so well-known, but they are there. Autocrats and tyrants may believe they can stamp out dissent, but the tremendous courage and the individual desire for life and liberty will always triumph to erode such regimes from within, even as many other succumb to pressure or silence.