He takes the stage much as a traditional politician would. He thanks the crowd, acts surprised at the large turnout, and then, taking some folded paper from his suit pocket, begins his speech. But once he gets past the preliminaries, any resemblance to a traditional politician stops and any similarity to a traditional stump speech is lost.
This is Donald Trump on the campaign trail, drawing large crowds at just about every stop (many of the crowds ginned up by his paid staffers, but never mind), and wowing the crowds with a mix of prepared one-liners and seemingly off-the-cuff ad-libs that reflect well on his public-speaking ability and his sense of what his audience wants to hear.
He starts with a few jabs at his opponents, all glancing blows, saying things like, “I guess there are evangelicals in Cuba; I just don’t know,” that are intended to raise questions without making outright accusations (in this case that Ted Cruz isn’t really all that religious and that he may not really be a full-fledged American—a double indirect hit: brilliant and absolutely malevolent). Then he gets into substance, or what passes for substance in a Trump speech.
At one point, he will rail against the nuclear deal with Iran, claiming it is the dumbest/worst foreign policy agreement ever. He criticizes the way the U.S. negotiated (never mind that he has no actual knowledge of how the negotiations went), claiming that the first thing that should have been demanded was a return of America’s hostages. He gets the crowd angry by pointing out that the release of the Americans wasn’t even in the final agreement. And with no one to contradict his interpretation of what actually led to the Iran deal, he’s free to make up whatever scenario he likes, and he does.
Midway through this particular rant, he might digress, perhaps to remind the audience that he is brilliant and went to the Wharton Business School, where he learned how to negotiate “great deals” in the world of business. And then he’ll get back to his critique of the Iran deal, emphasizing how he would only have the best people on his team, people who know how to negotiate tough deals, unlike Obama’s team or the team Hillary would have.
The crowd loves it because they hate everything that Obama and Hillary stand for, and he knows that if he can sound completely positive about himself and what he can do to turn back the mistakes of those two, the crowd will continue to cheer for him.
At one point a heckler or two will shout something negative. “Throw them out,” he’ll say, firing up the crowd against any anti-Trump sentiment. At an Iowa rally in frigid conditions, he’s likely to tell his bouncers to keep the hecklers’ coats, just to show he is ruthless, I suppose. After the hecklers have been removed, he’ll get back to his point about the Iran deal, unless he sees an opportunity to move to another of his stump favorites. Maybe the hecklers looked “foreign,” in which case he’ll get into his anti-immigrant pitch. Or maybe they look like Muslims, in which case he’ll segue to the ISIS threat and how his administration would wipe out the terrorists quickly without pussy-footing around the issue by refusing to call them Islamic terrorists (another attack on Obama and Hillary).
The secret formula that has propelled Donald Trump to the position he now holds with the Republican voters is as follows: Project strength at all times – strength as to himself (best at everything, smartest, most capable, most astute) and strength as to the country (what it can be and should be, as opposed to what it is under Obama and Hillary); Attack opponents by innuendo (making it seem as if it isn’t really an attack, just a question, or an observation), and if attacked, counter-punch forcefully, so as to intimidate the opponent into submission; Make stuff up (usually exaggerations, but sometimes just outright lies), and then cover them with softer language later, if necessary; and, Appear invincible at all times – always in control, never admitting any mistakes.
Trump has been using the same formula for the entirety of his campaign, and his poll numbers have remained strong throughout that period. He may not have gained a lot of support, but he hasn’t really lost any, either. Thus, it is probably a safe assumption that he is attracting a core group of supporters who like what he’s doing, like who he’s projecting himself to be, like how he indicates he would handle the office should he be elected.
So who are these people? And what does their support for this showman say about the country?
The answers to those questions are important, even if they are unclear. If the Trump support is primarily coming from disgruntled, angry Americans who feel that the government is not addressing their needs and that most politicians are untrustworthy, being controlled by mega-corporations and Wall Street fat cats, then Trump’s campaign will ultimately stall and fail. But if the support he has been receiving is representative of a deeper level of anxiety about the country’s direction, then Trump’s campaign could prevail in a close election against an establishment candidate like Hillary Clinton.
Trump would make Hillary look old, older than she is (and he’s the older of the two). He would make her look like just another stooge who is locked into the established way of running the country. He would paint her as the “politically correct” candidate and argue that political correctness is what has put the country in the downward spiral he will claim it is in. (Again, remember, facts will be irrelevant; he’ll say what he needs the voters to believe.)
And he would constantly emphasize strength: his as compared to hers, America’s under him as compared to America’s under her. Such a campaign can be successful. With the right demagogue leading the charge, it can create a groundswell of support that can be unstoppable. It happened in Germany after WWI. It can happen here now.