Forget Ron DeSadness
A young sheriff strutted into the state, where masks, woke and LGBTQ soon were to meet their fate. Even Donald Duck, with feathers and fluff, dared not challenge a sheriff this tough. They all came to Florida to die, but what of an adversary like Donald Trump — would he make young DeSantis tame and shy?
And now he wants to become president. In the long run-up to the start of the primaries this time, particularly in certain sections of right-wing media, there have been many who’ve claimed that the table is all set for Ron DeSantis. A Trump in a different package that might be more acceptable to a wider audience, and also youthful, exciting and with a substantial campaign war chest of over a hundred million dollars to spend on his campaign.
At first glance, it’s easy to see why many are hopeful about DeSantis. In the vast majority of ways, his background aligns with what many Trump-weary Republicans are looking for in a savior-like figure.
Florida’s popular governor is 44 years young, he’s handsome, educated at prestigious institutions like Harvard and Yale, he has a background in Republicans’ often beloved military, he has three cute children and a social media-friendly wife, and he — perhaps most importantly — has been a devoted Christian his whole life.
Since taking office in Florida, he has railed against most things that conservatives typically dislike: politically correct wokeism, LGBTQ propaganda, Disney, abortion rights, draconian covid restrictions, critical race theory, masks, gender reassignments, criticism of Israel, uncontrolled immigration, globalization, porn, George Soros and the deep state, how the Democrats want to destroy the country, and so on. If a drag queen wants to read fairy tales somewhere, Ron The Protector appears as a savior in need and firmly says NOT ON MY WATCH! He has waged a culture war in a skillful media-exposing manner that brought desired headlines, and he has made himself popular by appearing as a fighter with both tenacity and courage. I GET THINGS DONE! One can assume he has nothing against being called “Trump with a brain”. Until his official announcement on May 24th, he strategically took care of two classics in these contexts: he wrote a relatively successful book — boasting and trash, according to critics — and undergone a successful weight loss journey. All, of course, to signal his readiness for higher office.
One aspect of the DeSantis myth that personally fascinates me — a narrative seeking to portray him as a Republican Obama, I’d guess — is that DeSantis, during his six years as one of America’s 435 members of Congress, was described as a loner who kept to himself, stayed away from the social scene, often wore headphones and generally didn’t make a fuss. He focused on his job — the rest of the time he prioritized his young family. Some who know or have worked with him describe him as nerdy, born arrogant, ruthless, uncharismatic and boundlessly ambitious early on. He presents himself as a pragmatic leader who doesn’t care much about what people think, who looks for support in data and wants evidence rather than making decisions based on what will make him popular. Critics, of course, argue the opposite.
Perhaps a fun video like the one above is mainly sly. Perhaps it’s shrewd to make a name for himself by taking on all the culture wars that made Trump so popular. Perhaps it’s even worth it to convey subtle messages by holding up his index finger and using his hands to play an invisible accordion in the same way as the Master. Perhaps it makes him look like the Heir he wants to be.
Looking at polls, surveys and opinion figures, the most important thing for Republican voters is that the candidate they vote for 1) clearly distances themselves from the 2020 election results and says that Trump won, 2) criticizes and fights against everything that is politically correct and woke, 3) does not criticize Trump and 4) “sticks it to the libs”, i.e. make the opposing side of Democrats and liberals as annoyed and upset as possible.
When voters answer the question of who they think best meets these requirements, it is, perhaps not shockingly, the same man almost all of them first think of. His name is not Ron DeSantis.
Still, the real seriousness has barely begun. If DeSantis doesn’t last long, can live up to expectations to at least give Trump a match, pundits will surely compare him to the let-down candidate who fell short in the previous primary election, Scott Walker.
I’m even more negative than that who think DeSantis will rather, when the so-polished surface is properly scratched, come across as a Republican version of Kamala Harris: impressive at first glance — impressively empty inside, easier to like the less you see and hear beyond the headlines. DeSantis and Harris both exude a Janus-faced quality, seem double-natured, lacking that inner compass that makes a person perceived by others as genuine. DeSantis may hate everything a conservative should hate, paints the same threats and plays on the same fears, and yet it’s not enough.
The Achilles’ heel, I think, is that Trump and other opponents will portray him as a weather vane, a political robot missing a heart and a soul, financed by and assembled in the same corrupt Deep State factory alongside the likes of aforementioned Kamala Harris and the evil Hillary Clinton. Reads from a script, rambles on about the same things as if some button in the machine got stuck, is stiff, dull and strangely reminiscent of a hybrid between Mark Zuckerberg, RoboCop and his current admirer Elon Musk. What makes DeSantis look human is that on stage he often looks like he’s either uncomfortable or just hates the whole thing, which of course are two of the absolute worst signals a human can send to an audience.
Linking up with corrupt politician robots won’t be DeSantis’ only problem though — he is smart as well. Really smart. Sharp-witted, eloquent, well-read, and even adept at dropping and picking up modern references. For a party that elected Donald Trump and George W. Bush as presidents in the 21st century, his intelligence should probably be considered as more of a drawback than an asset, having attended Yale and Harvard doesn’t resonate well with voters who’ve struggled their way through the harsh School of Life. DeSantis comes across as elitist, someone who “doesn’t care about ordinary people” as he thinks he is better, smarter, superior. A stark contrast to Trump who treats everyone equally and according to the same fair slogan: if you like Trump, Trump likes you.
Another minus for DeSantis is that, in addition to the unwelcome resemblance to Kamala Harris, he’ll also something of a Republican version of Elizabeth Warren. Smart, skilled and with a devoted following, but pretty soon the vast majority can’t bear to listen anymore. It’s not just the repetition of the same ideas ad nauseam — it’s also in a whiny, annoyed or perpetually upset voice, offended or on the verge of breaking point. Endless negativity about the opposing side that he paints as being the worst and hateful and most dangerous, or bragging about himself and all he thinks he’s accomplished. People will be left feeling exhausted rather than enthused. While Trump certainly also is monotonous and occasionally unbearable, he thrives on stage, entertaining his audience. Trump is a show, an unpredictable and thus exhilarating entertainer tailor-made for the reality tv-like spectacle of these election circuses. DeSantis, on the other hand, entertains more in the style of Siri and Alexa.
The last major weakness in this merciless review is that DeSantis could very well be successful both in a primary and against Biden if he was carried forward by his strengths — brains, action, youth — but incomprehensibly counterproductively he is instead trying to position himself to the right of Trump. It’s the MAGA voters he wants to attract, a Trumpism without Trump with less drama but more MAGA. I think DeSantis, hoping to woo disenchanted Trump voters will, for example, grind on the fact that Trump didn’t fire Dr. Anthony Fauci, the face of the pandemic that many among the contrarians blame for being forced to wear masks and live under threat about constant vaccinations. That Trump both encouraged and took the vaccine himself was seen as a major betrayal by these voters. The contrarians and more religious are the groups with whom Trump is believed to have lost ground, but trying to appeal to them can sometimes be both masochistic and embarrassing. I’ve blushed at DeSantis’ talk about school books filled with sex, “hardcore pornography in libraries for ten-year-olds”, and excessive bans on sex education in schools — the reality is that if children don’t learn about it in school, they inevitably learn from other children or in solitude from the Internet. The reality is what it is, but maybe it attracts Christian voters when he talks about various chimaeras and straw men like all those mentioned in the introduction. Some of the topics have substance, I think, but the war on Disney, relaxation of gun and death penalty laws, and particularly strict abortion laws from week six are too extreme for the vast majority even in a religious country like the US. Republicans are now in favor of exceptions when it comes to abortion, for example, however reluctantly some of the more fundamentalist Christians want to believe it. DeSantis finds himself in the minority on most issues, and on a few, he even advocates for a sort of Christian Sharia law which the majority society presumably perceives as religious fanaticism.
Perhaps precautiously, DeSantis has thus far tried the strategy that 16 primary candidates failed against Trump in 2015–16: never criticize The Dear Leader, try to ally instead, quietly hope for Trumps’ demise and that you’ll be the one getting his voters. Considering how some of Trump’s supporters would die for their leader, there’s really nothing to suggest this strategy would fare any better this year. Voters would rather choose Trump himself than a pretender.
Finally, DeSantis has yet to be tested on a broad front, something that now has begun with his candidacy announcement and soon, most importantly, will be seriously challenged in the context of the first primary debate in August on Fox News. A debate that I think will be completely decisive for him, a make it or break it event as it was for Scott Walker in a similar situation last time. Until then, he must tread cautiously, avoiding unnecessary landmines, staying relevant, and deftly fielding questions thrown at him on a myriad of topics. From his controversial stance on contentious issues like abortion and LGBTQ rights to his enigmatic tenure at Guantanamo Bay prison, which remains shrouded in relative obscurity. And what exactly did Ms. Wiles say? What are his genuine thoughts on Trump? Does he possess a soul and a conscience, or did someone pry him open and install ChatGPT DeepStateRobot_v2.0?
I’m obviously placing my fake bets on DeSantis becoming the flop of the year: in the upcoming debates, this robot will overheat and hence expose visible flaws. It’s one thing to act like a strongman and appear tough in front of schoolchildren, the LGBTQ community and Donald Duck with family, to be asked friendly questions on Fox News or by Elon Musk, and quite another thing entirely to survive a long and grueling presidential campaign and stand up to a resourceful, worshiped and morally unrestrained cult leader bully like Donald Trump. Byebye, Ron DeSadface! You should have thanked me instead!
Whether DeSantis makes a Titanic in the first debate, gradually sinks thereafter or manages to survive until much later, a slew of candidates will be vying for the spotlight, eager to be launched as Trump’s primary challenger. With the luxury of being brutal, I swiftly condemn almost the entire lot of them to failure.
Asa Hutchinson is too boring in every way, will never fly in this social climate. Larry Elder may be a culture warrior beloved by a small group of Christians on the far right, but I see him as too strange and too much of a Trump wannabe to gain widespread support. Vivek Ramaswamy stands out as an oddity among the group, and while he may hold on for a while due to his deviation from the norm, in the long run, he is simply too odd for the Republican electorate. Nikki Haley has long been touted as a future star, especially during her tenure working for her President Trump at the United Nations, but like Kamala Harris she is more suitable for the job in a tv role than in reality as she feels both gray, scripted, lacking genuine conviction and in the wrong party to take shortcuts using her origin or gender. Former Vice President Mike Pence shouldn’t even be running, no matter how much he feels God wants him to be president — those who love their Trump hate Mike Pence, and those who don’t like Trump never liked Mike Pence. Chris Sununu is currently unknown among the masses, possesses quick wit, is relatively balanced, charming and has been successful as governor in primary election opening state of New Hampshire, but certainly the chances of him disappearing amidst the louder competition are significantly greater than the opposite.
Left among potential candidates who can be predicted at this moment — remember that Trump’s unexpected candidacy wasn’t announced until June 16 of the year preceding the election — only two make the cut in my book.
First on the list of the more intriguing contenders is Tim Scott, a man I can’t decide if I like or not. Affably smiling, soft, joking and hard to dislike, seems both competent and — not least in contrast to Trump — genuinely likable. He embodies conservatism without venturing into the realm of craziness, and enjoys popularity among colleagues and intellectuals from both ends of the political spectrum. Being the only black candidate in the party might provide him with some unique potential among certain voters. Similar to the amiable Ben Carson during Trump’s campaign in 2015–16, it’s challenging to envision Scott engaging in the wild pie-tossing and personal attacks that inevitably will define the primary race, which, in itself, lends some extra legitimacy to his candidacy. Should he remain in the race long enough to face Trump in the final stages, I believe many weary voters, seeking respite from chaos, would gladly cast their vote in his favor. More logical, however, is that he’ll bow out when four or five candidates remain, just like Carson did.
The only remaining candidate on my list is Chris Christie, a personal favorite of mine for over a decade. In fact, I must admit that my analysis may lose some credibility due to my fondness for him. Not only have I closely followed his career, read his books and enjoy listening to him, we even met a few times the last time he ran for president. That being said, he’s had a rough time since before the 2012 election when he was touted as the Republican Hope. His reputation first suffered after he embraced disaster relief from President Obama in New Jersey and, it seemed, gave the among Republicans so hated Obama a “hug” that the party and voters never forgave. He completely failed in the 2016 election, and then emerged as some kind of misplaced and disgruntled Trump surrogate whom the president ignored. The fact that he now openly criticizes Trump, seemingly reversing his opinion after over three decades of friendship, strikes many as blatant opportunism. Adding to the tragicomic narrative, Christie fell seriously ill with covid and had likely been infected by the very person he helped prepare for the televised debate against Biden. In classic Trump behavior he’d, despite the risks to others, neglected to inform them of his positive test result the day before. In his latest book, Christie recounts Trump calling him while he lay in his hospital bed, so sick that he bid farewell to his family and summoned a priest for prayers. Rather than expressing concern for his friend’s well-being, Christie claims that his first question from Trump was “are you going to say you got it from me?”. The president wanted to keep his covid infection during the debate a secret. Shortly thereafter, 48 people in Trump’s staff fell ill, and the leader himself had to be airlifted to the appropriate hospital.
Personally I find it difficult to view Christie as anything other than genuine, even if he occasionally appears disoriented in the convoluted reality of the Republican Party. He is as sharp as few, very knowledgeable, funny, quick and easy to like. The problem lies in the fact that he is not radical enough for the party’s voter base, lacks the association with being a winner and, sadly, feels compelled in this primary contest to outdo Trump in launching scathing attacks, making viral videos where he OWNS and HUMILIATES The Dear Leader so he’ll be known as the Master’s worst enemy. Undoubtedly impressive and comedic at times, and entertaining to witness Christie causing Trump’s frustrations to surface — but will people endure this spectacle in the long run? And will it translate into votes? Why would people choose a new president who, in short clips, appears to be yet another unrestrained bull in the china shop?
The crucial distinction from Trump is that this perception does not hold true for Christie: he can definitely push people in entertaining ways, but he’s at the same time a thoughtful and balanced person with the necessary qualities of nuance, intellect, knowledge, hereness and many other strengths needed to be a good president. I genuinely hope that his candidacy does not spiral out of control, that he is once again seen as a heroic figure within the Republican Party, rather than the pitiable figure he became under Trump’s shadow. Anything else would be heartbreaking to me. But I dare not hope.
At this point, in May the year before the election, the only logical conclusion is that Trump will emerge victorious once again.
Short of a prison sentence, the only event capable of halting his expected nomination is a repeat of the 2015 shocker where someone defies the odds and disrupts the political landscape. Indulging in wishful thinking that Trump-critical candidates like Liz Cheney, Mitt Romney or Adam Kinzinger stand a chance among today’s radicalized voters would be nothing short of naive. Considering how the media works, it is just as far-fetched that some today relatively unknown other politician — Brian Kemp, Glenn Youngkin, Mike Rogers, Will Hurd, Kristi Noem or take your pick — would turn into a Messiah figure. Cultish leaders like Tucker Carlson may generate hope for some, but a unifying, balanced figure capable of appealing beyond their fundamentalist niche is an elusive breed in our binary world, bordering on extinction.
No, it will be Don once more. Unless someone dares to confront him fearlessly and resolutely, the opposition will find itself in the same careless predicament as when Trump clinched the presidency by accusing his main opponent of not being born in the United States, his wife ugly and his father complicit in the murder of John F. Kennedy. Trump kept slinging wild knives at his rivals, accusing them of cheating, lying, corruption, or simply being boring and ugly. He even took aim at the only woman in the race by disparaging her appearance and questioning her electability by asking “look at that face! Would anyone vote for that? Can you imagine that, the face of our next president?”. Astonishingly, his audacity only bolstered his popularity, defying media criticism. Opinion figures unmistakably surged even in the wake of something as controversial as his Muslim ban and similar.
If such a formula worked before, why wouldn’t it work again? Also armed with an additional weapon he lacked last time, I believe Trump and his campaign team are poised to, much more than the competition, unabashedly deploy more advanced and refined forms of deepfakes, disinformation and digital manipulation. Nevertheless, the familiar playbook of crankiness and attacks in all directions remains intact: Ron DeSantis will be called Meatball Ron, Ron The Con, Ron DeSanctimonius and Ron DeEstablishment, accused of being possessed by evil forces and fake and RINO — and isn’t he a little gay? Choker! He’s weak! Just look at him! Ron DeSadness! I made him famous and now he complains! Ron DeSaster! Frankly, he should apologize!
Trump definitely has weaknesses though, big and fragile ones that it’s about time someone really made visible. In my next article, I’ll embark on a mission to unravel The Dear Leader’s intricacies within American politics and reveal the ultimate blueprint for bringing him to his knees. Using the weapons and techniques I provide, Trump’s vulnerabilities should soon look like a house of cards in a wind tunnel.
You’re welcome, world. I do this for all of you.
Until then,
N.
