Cleveland
The truest statement of this unrelentingly fact-checked campaign came from Donald Trump adviser Barry Bennett on one of those politically inebriated, barroom conversations we call a “cable news panel” two months ago. Bennett and his debate adversary, former Mitt Romney adviser Dan Senor—he’ll never hold a similar job title with Trump—were splitting atoms over whether or not Trump’s policy proposals constituted just “suggestions.”
“Typically, words matter when political leaders—” Senor began before Bennett, exasperated, cut him off.
“Oh, please. This ‘words matter’ stuff—I mean, this is ridiculous!” Bennett exclaimed. Senor positively beamed. The corners of his lips stretched from ear to ear like he was smiling for his third-grade yearbook photo.
“My favorite line, honestly, of this campaign may have just been articulated by you.”
Mine, too. At Quicken Loans Arena in Cleveland Monday night, would-be first lady of the United States Melania Trump used plagiarized language from remarks Michelle Obama made eight years ago. An unemployed journalist chilling in a coffee shop in California pointed out the unattributed text, then the rest of the media made a fist and beat the issue into the ground. The Trump-Pence campaign of law and disorder reacted to the uproar with typical defiance, then with typical mixed messaging. “As far as we’re concerned, the speech is Melania’s speech,” Paul Manafort said Wednesday morning. Then, a few hours later, this from CNN: “Trump aide offers resignation in Melania Trump plagiarism incident.” The news and the botched damage control, too infuriating to be farce, would enrage every presidential campaign enough to put the matter behind it with dispatch. Every campaign but one.
“Good news is Melania’s speech got more publicity than any in the history of politics especially if you believe that all press is good press!” Trump tweeted Wednesday.
This “words matter” stuff, I mean … it’s ridiculous. Attention matters. This, in 2016, with viral content becoming an end justified by even unseemly means, is not a ridiculous statement in the least.
It should be expected that any of the convention speakers would be prone to generate attention most people would’ve regarded as undesirable prior to June 16, 2015, the day Trump launched his campaign and said Mexico “was not sending its best” across the border. One day after Melania’s address this week, Ben Carson, whose pathology Donald Trump once likened to that of a child molester, mentioned Hillary Clinton and Lucifer in the same sentence. The oratory is usually fiery in a different way. Take New Jersey governor Chris Christie and retired Army general Michael Flynn, who helped make “Lock her up!” the preferred refrain of delegates at Cleveland 2016 during their talks.
But mostly, these speeches are filler—forgettable moments in boilerplate oratory. The list of them is even longer this year, as the Trump campaign failed to attract the apolitical, star-studded lineup for which it had hoped. The affair has slogged through stretches of low energy. Had Jeb Bush attended, at least the boos would’ve made some noise.
On the eve of the convention’s third day, though, there was a 15-minute burst of hope from Donald Trump Jr., who with his siblings has earned praise for his ability as a well-spoken surrogate. He may have been the first talker this week to espouse conservative rhetoric in a way that even approached something resonant. The 38-year-old executive vice president of the Trump Organization spoke Tuesday night about economic opportunity, human potential, the virtues of hard work, the Democratic party’s legacy on issues like education and immigration and government regulation—you know, the stuff that 100 percent of Republicans like to hear.
Trump adopted the script familiar to speeches of this sort while incorporating his father’s signature, populist oomph. It’s a tall order for the son of a billionaire to come off as an outsider. But he tried, and the otherwise sedate crowd was sold.
“We didn’t learn from MBAs,” he said of the Trump children’s upbringing. “We learned from people who had doctorates in common sense.”
That was a good, solid, B+ line. Grading this convention on a curve, it may as well have been lifted straight from Abraham Lincoln.
