On June 16, 2015, Donald Trump announced his candidacy for the presidency of the United States. Aside from the predictable incoherence, his “prepared” remarks were notable for his infamous declaration that Mexicans are an insufferable plague on American society, and immigration is evil because “They’re bringing drugs. They’re bringing crime. They’re rapists.” Most observers were shocked, but nonetheless didn’t give the issue its full due because conventional wisdom also held that there was no way he’d be a major contender for the nomination.
More than a year later (and one month from the general election), Donald Trump is the Republican nominee for president. Despite the fact that the Republican Party commissioned and widely disseminated a 2012 “Autopsy Report” that explicitly stated the necessity for minority outreach, they turned around and nominated a candidate who is undeniably repellant to minorities.
It appeared on the eighth page of the report. The Republican Party, it said, "must embrace and champion comprehensive-immigration reform." This came off an election in which the party's nominee had, in the primary, advocated the practice of "self-deportation," which followed Romney until Election Day. He lost the Hispanic vote, 73% to 27%, according to exit polls.
The report warned that if the party did not back immigration reform, its appeal to minority groups would continue to shrink, particularly among Hispanic voters.
A lot of ink has been spilled in an attempt to understand why and how the GOP could knowingly sabotage its own chances at the White House by hitching its hopes to Trump, but very little of it has examined the politics of personal insult.
For the past year, we’ve been treated to political analysis that is largely predicated on the plight of the “white working class,” and the “economic anxiety” allegedly felt by Trump supporters who adore him simply because he “tells it like it is.” We’ve been asked repeatedly to believe that these disgruntled Americans are simply nervous about their financial future, not the inevitable social change they incessantly denounce. We’ve been asked to overlook Trump’s fervent support from White supremacists, and the preponderance of Confederate flag fliers in attendance at his rallies. We’ve been asked to overlook studies revealing that nearly 50 percent of Trump supporters view blacks as more criminal and violent than whites. We’ve been asked to make light of his vulgar misogyny and disrespect for his female detractors. We’ve been asked to let his mocking of a disabled journalist roll right off our backs. All in service of maintaining the fantasy that both parties are presenting qualified candidates to assume the nation’s highest leadership post. But like a perfectly timed segue in one of Trump’s reality shows: cue the debates.
As if to refocus the punditry on the unrepentantly arrogant elephant in the room, Trump presented yet another master class in the privileged politics of personal insult. He bragged about fanning the flames of Birtherism, took cheap shots at Rosie O’Donnell, and mocked the overweight/obese. He spent the entire week after the debate hurling slurs and salacious innuendo at former Miss Universe Alicia Machado. He is now struggling to defend an audio-tape of himself touting the "privilege” of sexual harassment and assault. In essence, he’s removed all doubt that his campaign and the GOP policy it puts forth are about anything other than othering and oppressing people.
Yet we are still being treated to analyses that somehow see the toxic narcissism, bigotry, and intolerance of Trumpism as “winning.” It is this ever-present tacit approval of white male supremacy from a white male-dominated media that serves to symbiotically legitimize the candidates who exploit it. In other words, just like beauty, winning in politics is in the eye of the beholder. Victory in the debates or news cycle is no longer predicated on facts and policy, but how many insults and metaphorical punches were thrown at marginalized people.
In this vein, the punditry isn't much different than the average Trump supporter, who scores him on a curve precisely because he “tells it like it is.” But who exactly determines what ‘it’ and ‘is’ are in this election? To be very clear, both terms have scientifically been shown to be synonymous with racism and misogyny, particularly among angry white Americans who plan to vote for Trump. It is impossible for him to even make it through a 90-minute debate without insulting multiple voting demographics. Yet this attribute does very little to tarnish him in the eyes of his supporters or much of the Beltway media, because they admittedly identify with the ugly sentiments.
At some point it would be wise to ask ourselves once and for all why they're legitimizing the privileged politics of personal insult—and who stands to suffer because of it.
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