Donald Trump could taste victory. He walked out onto the stage on the final night of the Republican national convention on 18 July in front of a giant gold “TRUMP” sign, which transformed into a mock-up of the White House. “With faith and devotion, I proudly accept your nomination for president of the United States,” he said. The crowd rose to their feet and chanted, “Fight! Fight! Fight!”
It had been quite the build-up. Hulk Hogan took to the stage to praise the “greatest tag team of my life” and ripped off his top to reveal a bright red “Trump-Vance 2024” shirt underneath. Kid Rock lip-synced his way through his expletive-laden hit “American Bad Ass”, a tolling bell sound covering up the swear words, as JD Vance nodded along politely, and Melania Trump stared straight ahead. Ultimate Fighting Championship CEO Dana White introduced Trump as a “man who truly cares about people.” The country music singer Lee Greenwood performed “Proud to be an American” as Trump finally appeared, his right ear still bandaged after the assassination attempt five days earlier.
All he had to do was stick to the script. His speech had been billed as a “unity” sermon that would offer a vision of strength and hope, in contrast to his previous campaigns, and it started off well enough. Trump called for the “division in our society” to be healed. “We rise together or we fall apart,” he intoned. “I am running to be president of all of America, not half of America.”
Then he told the story of how he had come “within a quarter of an inch” of the would-be assassin’s bullet taking his life (he said this was the only time he would ever tell this story because it was “too painful” for him to talk about, which seems unlikely to be the case). The crowd was “cheering wildly” and he was speaking “very strongly, powerfully, and happily”, he said, when he turned to look at a screen to his right. He heard a “loud whizzing sound” and felt something hit his ear “really hard.” When he put his hand to his head, he saw that it was covered with blood. “I immediately knew it was very serious, that we were under attack,” he said, recounting how he had dropped to the ground as secret service agents rushed to the stage to shield him. “There was blood pouring everywhere,” he said, “yet I felt very safe because I had god on my side.”
By this stage, some of the delegates on the convention floor were in tears. “I’m not supposed to be here tonight,” Trump said. “Yes, you are,” they chanted back. “Thank you, but I’m not,” he said, sounding uncharacteristically humble. I stand before you in this arena only by the grace of almighty god.” He asked for a moment of silence to remember Corey Comparatore, the Pennsylvania firefighter who died at the rally as he protected his family during the attack, and kissed his helmet, which had been positioned with his firefighter’s uniform at the side of the stage.
If only Trump had left it at that.
He had everything going in his favour ahead of this speech. His opponent, Joe Biden, appeared to be on the verge of dropping out of the race, with close aides briefing reporters on 18 July that “we’re close to the end” as poll after poll showed him losing to Trump, and senior members of the Democratic party appealed to him to stand aside. As though the situation was not already bad enough for Biden, he had tested positive for Covid and had to isolate at his beach house in Delaware while Trump delivered his triumphant primetime speech in Wisconsin. Over the previous three days, the Republican convention had been unusually disciplined, with speakers sticking to their designated messages about making America wealthy, safe, and strong again. The stage was set for Trump to draw the contrast between his own strength, having dodged an assassin’s bullet, with his party united behind him, and the frail figure of Biden, with his party in disarray.
But Trump just could not do it. After delivering his message of hope and unity, he veered off into a rambling litany of his greatest grievances, from his claims that the 2020 election was stolen, to the “partisan witch hunts’ supposedly being waged against him, to “crazy Nancy Pelosi,” and how the Democrats were “weaponizing” the justice system. He warned that the planet was “teetering on the verge of World War III,” led the crowd in chants of “drill, baby, drill!” and complained about the “massive invasion” on the southern border. “107 percent of jobs are being taken by illegal aliens,” he said. There had “never been an invasion like this anywhere in the world… Third world countries would fight with sticks and stones to stop this happening.”
Still, it got worse. He wondered aloud whether Kim Jong Un missed him. At one point, he asked whether anyone had seen The Silence of the Lambs. “The late, great Hannibal Lecter,” he said, inexplicably. “He’d love to have you for dinner.”
It was, in the immortal words of George W. Bush after Trump’s 2017 inauguration speech, “some weird shit.”
By the 90-minute mark, delegates in the convention hall were checking their phones, looking anxiously at the teleprompter for signs that the speech might be coming to an end. The euphoria and quasi-religious fervour that had greeted Trump’s arrival at the start of the night had given way to something that looked more like a mass hostage situation. At one hour, 32 minutes long, it was the longest presidential nomination acceptance speech in modern American history. As he finally wrapped up, Trump briefly tried to get the crowd to chant, “win, win, win, win.” But it was too late for that. By the time his family joined him on stage and the balloons dropped, the primary emotion in the room appeared to be relief that it was over.
As many Americans backed slowly away from their television sets, freshly reminded of what, exactly, the first Trump presidency was really like, it was clear for the first time since Biden’s calamitous debate in June, that this election is not a foregone conclusion. Trump is still Trump, and his running mate, JD Vance, is a polarising figure who has previously endorsed a nationwide abortion ban and cast serious doubt on whether he would have certified the results of the last election. Biden’s time is over. But the Trump-Vance ticket is beatable, if only the Democrats can get their act together.
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