Mark Latham
Among America’s political
commentators, the most common observation during this year’s presidential
primary season has been, “I don’t know what’s going on”.
In trying to
explain the rise of Donald Trump as the Republican frontrunner, the so-called
experts have been clueless.
Every time they
have declared Trump as having “imploded” electorally – whether it was from his policy
to build a wall on the Mexican border or ban Muslim migration or attack the
media as “lying, disgusting people” – The Donald’s support has continued to
grow.
Occasionally this
happens in public life. The pundits have
no idea and a new narrative is required.
The big question
is: How has Trump been able to defy the elites and push back so successfully
against political correctness?
The first thing to
understand is that this is not a new struggle, in Washington or Canberra.
For the past
quarter-of-a-century, under the 24-hour news cycle, whenever a non-politician,
a genuine outsider has run for elected office, the media have jumped all over
their novelty value, depicting them as some kind of freak show.
If their policies
have been anywhere to the right of Che Guevara, the elites have labeled them as
“racist”, “sexist” and “fascist”.
In Trump’s case,
he has also been depicted as “vulgar”, someone too common, too plain speaking,
too rude to be seriously considered for high office.
Invariably, in the
face of this media firestorm, maverick candidates have lost support, with
elections being won by “respectable” types – insiders who will never challenge
the status quo and upset the political club.
Trump is different
because, at long last, Republican Party voters have twigged to the trickery and
fraud of the campaign against outsiders.
In recent
presidential contests, they have supported doyens of the political
establishment, such as George W Bush and Mitt Romney, and it’s got them
nowhere.
By invading Iraq,
Bush created more terrorism than he ever destroyed – the work of a third-generation
dud from a privileged political dynasty.
In 2012 Romney ran
as a dithering upper class twerp, weakly conceding a second term to Barack
Obama.
In Congress,
“respectable” Republicans have been ineffective in combating the debilitating
impact of identity politics – dividing the United States on the basis of race,
gender and sexuality.
The Republican
base has been baying for a red-meat candidate, a straight talking, authentic,
politically incorrect hard man, and Trump has given them what they want.
He has advocated
bold solutions to longstanding problems, such as illegal immigration and
deficit budgeting, backed by his personal story in building a lucrative
business career.
Why shouldn’t they
support a successful, down-to-earth candidate who talks their language and
shares their values?
The more the media
attack Trump as “mad” and “erratic”, the more his supporters dig in, rejecting
the politics of demonisation.
The US electorate
has seen enough of political correctness to know it’s a con-job: an attempt to
narrow the scope of public debate and lock out millions of voices of suburban
commonsense.
Voters are
starting to realise that terms like “mad” and “erratic” are code for saying:
“We, the establishment, don’t like this guy because we can’t control him and he
might upset the vested interests that currently control Washington.”
The elites have
thrown everything at Trump and he’s still standing – a rallying point for the
anti-PC cause.
As the Republican
Senator Marco Rubio acknowledged in the dying days of his presidential bid, “I
know that a lot of people find appeal in the things Donald says, because he
says what people wish they could say.”
In truth, the
greatest freak show in the American primaries has been Hillary Clinton,
especially last month, when she started barking like a dog at a rally in Nevada.
She once described
her husband Bill as “a hard dog to keep on the porch” and now she’s imitating
one.
When it comes to
tolerating vulgarity, no one beats Mrs Clinton: hanging onto a husband who famously
perfumed his Oval Office cigars with the scent of Monica Lewinsky.
Across the
political class, the attacks on Trump’s manners reek of hypocrisy.
Behind the scenes,
in the United States and Australia, journalists and politicians can be as
rough-as-guts – no less so than The Donald.
As Niki Savva’s
book on Tony Abbott and Peta Credlin demonstrated, much of the insider talk in
Canberra is gossipy and salacious.
For many years on
the Labor side, Kevin Rudd had the electorate conned into thinking he was as
homely and innocent as the Milky Bar Kid.
Then the video of his ranting meltdown at a Chinese interpreter went
viral and the real Rudd was exposed.
During my time in
parliament, I recall an excitable Canberra-based journalist who loved nothing
better than cruelly denigrating her female colleagues and spreading rumours
about extra-marital affairs in the press gallery.
Since then, this
malevolent influence has become a high profile, multi-media personality, lecturing
the nation on the need for civility – a breathtaking hypocrisy.
These are the two
faces of modern politics: privately slagging off at one’s rivals, while using media
platforms to call for higher standards.
At least Trump only
has one face: an energetic, bombastic talking machine who speaks frankly about
the things he believes in.
The Donald is by
no means perfect but I much prefer his approach to the lying snakes of machine
politics and media manipulation.
From an Australian
perspective, there’s another sound reason to ignore the hysterical clamour
about Trump.
His foreign policy
is in our national interest.
“America can’t be
the policeman of the world”, he says, “We have to rebuild our own country”.
This is a return
to the Republican tradition of opposing foreign adventurism: a belief that the
US should spend more time minding its own business.
Trump has been
highly critical of George W Bush and the neo-con invasion of Iraq, which
resulted in the death of 4,500 American servicemen and the rise of ISIS – a
truly vulgar outcome.
If he keeps his
promise, a Trump presidency would mean no more fiascos like Vietnam and Iraq,
sparing young Australian lives from the futile killing fields of US-led
invasions.
Far from being a dangerous
warmonger, Trump has a clear-headed appreciation of his country’s best
interests – and ours.