By Richard Ikiebe
A curious possibility is emerging from the recent Republican “midterm convention” in
Dallas: President Donald Trump may once again be underestimated by the very
people who have spent a decade trying to understand and explain him to the world.
From events leading to the U.S.-Denmark-Greenland new security arrangement
announced last week, the point may become clearer, but that is another story.
This is not an argument that the Republican Party is certain to win the U.S. mid-term
elections in November. Available polling says the elections would be difficult for
Republicans, and the normal logic of mid-term elections works against a sitting
president’s party. Recent polls also give Democrats an advantage on the generic
congressional ballot.
The argument is different. Much political commentary on Trump makes the same
analytical error of measuring him against the rules of a political game that he does
not appear to believe in. Other players may again underestimate his capacity to alter
the political equation.
Trump is routinely described as erratic, impulsive, outrageous or unserious. His
words are judged against the conventions of presidential language and established
political practice. However, what looks like disorder from outside may represent a
coherent political method from within.
Throughout his political career, Trump has repeatedly been treated as an aberration:
his candidacy was a curiosity; his nomination seemed unlikely; his 2016 victory was
an extraordinary disruption; and his 2020 defeat was regarded as a restoration of
normality by some. Yet he returned to the presidency.
The deeper problem may be a failure to understand Trump and, crucially, his
audience. What sounds implausible within the conventions of establishment politics
may not sound implausible to his supporters.
Trump’s language is aimed less at the political elite and Washington pundits than
directly at his constituency. His extravagant statements should not automatically be
dismissed as haphazard. They can be acts of political positioning: designed to
communicate, provoke and mobilise on his own terms.
In an election in which his name is not formally on the ballot, Trump has nevertheless
offered to place his political capital beside that of every Republican candidate, state
by state. He has asked voters to “pretend that I’m on the ballot”. Given his current
approval ratings, it is a considerable gamble. But he appears willing to stake his
political standing on it.
The unconventional Dallas convention itself was part of a grand strategy. It was a
national television platform for rallying the Republican base, raising money, and
imposing a single national narrative on what would otherwise be hundreds of
separate congressional contests.
Much of the commentary has concentrated on the length of Trump’s speeches and
the unusual optics of a mid-term convention, rather than the political architecture
beneath them. It is the recurring mistake of reading Trump by the old rules. The
consequences of failing to understand him could be consequential: Republicans
retaining Congress.
His proposal to pay every American adult a US$5,000 dividend if Republicans retain
Congress illustrates the point. Much of the media dismissed the proposal as
absurd or vote-buying, which could be illegal. Critics say it could cost more than
US$1 trillion, require congressional approval, and has no settled financing
mechanism. All of that may be true. But the political significance lies in its simplicity: Republicans
win; you receive a dividend. The word “dividend” itself recasts citizens as
shareholders in the American enterprise.
Winning is the end goal. Whether Congress ultimately approves, modifies or rejects
the payment is another matter. A political promise need not be implemented exactly
as announced to produce electoral consequences. If Republicans win and Congress
later rejects the payment, Trump can say that he fought for it but legislators
prevented it. By then, the objective would have been achieve, helped by the
supposedly “absurd” proposal.
While Trump changes the language of political communication, his opponents laugh.
(Again, reference Denmark and Iceland). Individual statements may seem
disconnected or contradictory when examined in isolation. His apparent
unpredictability can be deceptive. But Trump needs his audience to believe that he
is fighting for them; that the political system is resisting him; and that they have a
stake in helping him overcome that resistance.
Seen from this standpoint, there is something intellectually lazy, and potentially
dangerous, about treating Trump’s claims as objects of ridicule. When Trump says
something outrageous, the important questions are: which constituency is he
addressing? What grievance is he activating? What political distinction is he
creating? What response or behaviour does he want from his audience?
The danger for Trump’s opponents is that they may be misreading the political world
he is creating and operating within. They continue to measure him by established
standards while he establishes new ones. They may discover after the election that
what they dismissed as political theatre was, in fact, political strategy.
There is no guarantee of a Republican victory. The party faces genuine
vulnerabilities, and Trump’s approval ratings remain a significant problem.
Yet, precisely because conventional indicators suggest weakness, the possibility of
another Trump surprise deserves serious attention.
Trump’s most consequential innovation may yet be his refusal to seek permission
from established political culture about how a president should speak or behave. But
will enough voters accept his new rules? If they do, the lesson may be larger than
Trump himself: a changing political system cannot be adequately analysed with
instruments designed for the old one.
Dr Richard Ikiebe is a Media and Management Consultant, Teacher and
Chairman, Board of Businessday Newspaper
