By Nick Catoggio
Monday, January 29,
2024
On Friday evening we had a family quarrel in the Dispatch Slack
channel. I started it.
It began with this tweet from Nikki Haley reacting to
the latest
hourly evidence that her opponent’s thriving political career is an
unanswerable indictment of America and its people.
As the most insufferably shrill Never Trumper on staff, I
naturally shared the tweet with our Slack community and sniffed that Trump
being distracted from policy is perhaps not the biggest problem with him
manically defaming a woman he was found liable for sexually abusing.
Sure, said a colleague, but Never Trumpers aren’t the
target of that tweet. Persuadable Republicans are.
Haley can’t attack Trump’s fitness directly without
essentially telling GOP voters that they’ve made a terrible mistake in
supporting him for so many years, another commented. That would alienate people
she’s trying to win over.
What’s the upside of Haley burning Trump down, a third
asked? Many Republican officials formerly trusted by his base, like former
Attorney General Bill Barr, have spoken bracingly about his fitness yet he’s
still on track for a 50-state sweep in the primary. Shouldn’t she try to be
effective rather than cathartic?
“Effective or cathartic?” has been a hot topic among the
wider punditocracy over the past week as Haley has tiptoed toward sharper
criticism of Trump.
Some, like Ross
Douthat, believe Haley should spend her remaining time in the race
calibrating her message toward maximizing her share of the vote, eschewing
nuclear attacks on the frontrunner. Others, like Peggy
Noonan, want Haley to be more aggressive toward Trump but with a lighter,
more oblique touch than the glowering batting ram Chris Christie. Our
friends at The
Bulwark, on the other hand, see no point in Haley restraining herself
in a race she obviously won’t win. “This moment in American history calls for
bold truth-telling, drawing lines in the sand,” Michael Wood wrote
recently for the publication. “It’s time to embrace your inner Liz Cheney,” he
advised Haley.
Is that right? Is it time for “the full Liz”?
By “the full Liz” I mean a frontal assault on Trump’s
fitness for office, largely dispensing with arguments over policy differences.
Cheney has sharp disagreements with Trump on foreign policy, for instance, but
those have become an afterthought to her core critique that he’s unbalanced and
an authoritarian threat to American democracy. The full Liz is a fast track to
pariah status in the modern Republican Party, as Cheney and Christie might tell
you.
Opposite from “the full Liz” is what we might call “the
full DeSantis.” If the full Liz concerns itself with character to the near
exclusion of policy, the full DeSantis concerns itself with policy to the near
exclusion of character. The governor of Florida had much to say during his
campaign about Trump’s handling of COVID, his failure to build the wall, and so
on, but had precious few thoughts about whether a coup-plotting demagogue is
worthy of the White House. The full DeSantis, it turns out, is a fast track to
underperforming abysmally in a primary against Trump.
Neither the full Liz nor the full DeSantis are great
options for Nikki Haley.
So it looks to me like what she’s currently attempting,
perhaps novelly, is what we might call “the half Liz.”
***
Haley spent most of the campaign practicing the full
DeSantis, deflecting questions about the frontrunner’s fitness with meekly
passive formulations about how “chaos follows him.” Fergus
Cullen, the former chair of the New Hampshire Republican Party, summarized
her approach memorably: “She says in her stump speech, ‘I’m going to give you
hard truths,’ and then she gives you easy truths.”
Now that she’s become the last challenger standing, she’s gotten punchier. Particularly on the subject of Trump’s mental competence.
She didn’t just say that to reporters, she said it
to crowds
of supporters on the trail in New Hampshire. And she hasn’t limited
herself to age-based critiques. She’s begun to describe Trump lately as
“unhinged” per his boorish victory speech last week in New Hampshire, even
resorting to armchair psychology to explain his behavior. “When he feels
insecure, he starts to rail. He starts to rant. He starts to flail his arms,
and he starts to get upset. When he gets—feels threatened, he starts to throw
all kinds of things out there,” Haley said Sunday on Meet
the Press, describing Trump’s speech as a “temper tantrum.” The analogy
is unmistakable: Nikki Haley, a mother of two, knows better than to take a
cranky child seriously and so should you.
There was another notable exchange in that interview.
When she was pressed about Friday’s blockbuster defamation judgment against
Trump, for once Haley sounded conspicuously more like Liz Cheney than Ron
DeSantis.
Benjy Sarlin pointed to that answer as tantamount to
“crossing the Rubicon” in a piece published Sunday at Semafor.
He summarized the essence of “the half Liz” in tracking Haley’s recent
evolution on the subject of Trump’s fitness and her growing willingness
to tell
the truth about who won the 2020 election.
What stands out about Haley’s
remarks is not just that it’s a Republican taking on Trump over sexual
misconduct, something that’s almost unheard of since he survived the Access
Hollywood tape in 2016. It’s that a top rival is actually addressing
the core argument of Trump’s candidacy: That he is the target of a vast
conspiracy that stole the last election and is targeting him now in order to
steal the next one.
These twin premises, which Trump
has spent years working to build up and maintain, have made it virtually
impossible to attack him. “Electability” is not an effective angle when losses
are not considered legitimate. Attacks on Trump’s personal character, ethics,
and competence are not effective angles when some malicious outside force — the
“deep state,” “partisan prosecutors,” etc.— is to blame for his problems. To
the extent his nomination looks inevitable, this is the reason.
The “core argument of Trump’s candidacy” is really just
the man’s narcissism distilled to its essence, that he’s never to blame for his
own failings. Whether personal, political, or legal, he’ll invariably attribute
his setbacks to the corruption of others. You can’t be a Republican in good
standing in 2024 without sharing that belief. It’s the first commandment of the
cult.
Nikki Haley will probably never follow Liz Cheney’s lead
by calling Trump an existential threat to the constitutional order. But Sarlin
is right that questioning his mental stability and vouching for the defamation
judgment are meaningful, if lesser, transgressions to GOP orthodoxy in their
own right. By moving past policy to blame him for causing his own biggest
problems, Haley is rejecting the first commandment. From “chaos follows him” to
“he surrounds
himself in chaos”: That’s the half Liz.
The full Liz is a nonstarter among Republican voters
because it aligns foursquare with Democratic messaging about Trump. Liz Cheney
will tell you that Trump is the most dangerous, least qualified person ever to
run for president and Joe Biden will tell you the same, verbatim. Cheney would
also doubtless have many dark observations about Trump’s psychological
disposition if pressed to comment on it, and those observations would likely be
indistinguishable from the average Democrat’s.
The half Liz seeks ways to challenge Trump’s fitness
that don’t perfectly replicate Democratic talking points. For
instance, Haley won’t praise E. Jean Carroll as some truth-to-power feminist
hero or the various prosecutors who’ve indicted Trump as pillars of the rule of
law, as liberals might. She will say that she trusts juries
composed of everyday Americans, as many Republican voters do. Haley won’t
denigrate Trump by speculating where, precisely, he sits on the spectrum of “dark triad”
personality traits, but she will hint repeatedly that politicians over age 75
have lost some of their marbles. That’s an argument that the Biden White House
is, er, reluctant to make but one that Republican voters have spent the last
three years warming up to.
There’s another important difference between the full Liz
and the half Liz: Tone.
Trump’s harshest critics, like Liz Cheney and Chris
Christie, are inescapably dour, apocalyptic, and prone to chastising Republican
voters. Marco Rubio and Ted Cruz sounded
similar in the final days of their campaigns in 2016, plainly
mortified by the choice their party was preparing to make. Watching the
American right rally around a lowlife has always been dispiriting but watching
them do so again after he attempted a coup will leave any
decent person exasperated and even contemptuous of his fellow citizens. There’s
a reason this newsletter routinely reads the way it does.
Haley doesn’t sound like that, though. Strangely, as
numerous political reporters have
observed, she seems to be enjoying herself on the trail after losing Iowa
and New Hampshire. Whether that’s because she feels liberated by her situation
to speak her mind more freely, because she’s jonesing on having outlasted the
other pretenders in the race, or because she’s in denial about the looming end
of her political career, only she knows. But it’s notable how little scorn
there seems to be in her recent attacks on Trump’s fitness. The vibe, as I’ve
said, is less Cheney-esque fire and brimstone than that of a parent amused by
the silly fit their attention-seeking child is pitching.
There’s no venom toward Trump in the half Liz, just a
patient, ever-smiling grown-up encouraging Republican voters to be as much of a
grown-up as she is. The repeated use of the term “temper tantrum” is surely no
accident.
It must drive Trump batty to be genially condescended to
not just by an opponent but
by a woman. Historically he’s shrugged off jabs thrown at him by male
candidates, expecting a competition for dominance with them and never doubting
that he’s the most alpha of the bunch. Being needled by women has always seemed
to bug him as a
special affront, though. He’ll have to endure it for another month now,
maybe more.
Which brings us back to our threshold question. Is the
half Liz effective as a strategy for Nikki Haley? Would catharsis, a la the
full Liz, be preferable?
***
We can answer that question with a question. What does it
mean for a candidate in Haley’s position to be “effective”?
Traditionally, to campaign “effectively” means to
increase one’s chances of victory. If you’re winning over undecideds and
closing the gap with the frontrunner, you’re being effective.
Haley has no chance of victory. She won’t win a single
state. Her realistic best-case scenario is to lose in South Carolina by a
smaller margin than expected, fight on to Super Tuesday, then bow out after
getting swept. She might as well go full Liz, deliver the catharsis
anti-Trumpers are craving, and bolster the “permission structure” Chris
Christie tried to create for disaffected Republicans to oppose the
miscreant nominated by their party in November. By any typical definition of
“effective” electoral politics, the half Liz strategy is pointless.
But it’s silly to apply the typical definition of
“effective” politics to a party that is, to put it charitably, atypical. What
does it mean to be “effective” running against a strongman backed by a
personality cult and bent on provoking multiple constitutional crises if
reelected?
I would say that an “effective” campaign under those
circumstances is one that weakens that strongman’s chances of winning the
general election to the maximum extent possible. And by that definition, the
half Liz might be optimal.
If Haley went full Liz before South Carolina, there’s
every reason to think some of her supporters would peel away in disgust at
seeing their favored candidate suddenly adopt “Democratic talking points.” New
Hampshire was the experiment that proves it. Haley ran the full DeSantis
strategy there while Christie ran the full Liz; Christie is now an ex-candidate
while Haley is being given national
platforms to rip Trump for being a squealing geriatric manbaby who
seems increasingly “confused” as he approaches 80.
Assume that the full Liz would produce an 80-20 Haley
defeat in South Carolina while the half Liz would hold Trump’s margin to 60-40.
That might be the difference between Haley dropping out immediately versus
sticking around for Super Tuesday, giving her more time to get under Trump’s
skin, creating more opportunities for him to needlessly
alienate Republicans who prefer Haley, and possibly changing the tenor of
the news coverage about his victory. In an 80-20 landslide, the story will be
how utterly Trump dominates his party. In a 60-40 win, the story will be that
the candidate who supposedly dominates his party keeps losing 40 percent of
“his” voters to Nikki Haley in Republican primaries.
If, in other words, the half Liz strategy ends up
revealing the hidden extent of the GOP electorate’s misgivings about its
leader, incrementally normalizing opposition to him on the right, I’d say that
counts as “effective” for the anti-Trump cause before the general election.
There are other points in its favor. As one Dispatch colleague
pointed out to me, voters, staffers, and donors may be more inclined to stick
with a candidate who’s trying to win, however improbably, than
with one who’s resolved to burn the party to the ground a la Liz Cheney.
Haley’s extra weeks on the trail will also give Democrats an opportunity to
study which of her attacks on Trump are landing with special force, information
they can repurpose for November.
Even after she leaves the race, the residue of the half
Liz approach might be useful in persuading wavering Republican voters not to
support their nominee. Someone who’s categorically unwilling right now to
listen to Cheney’s critique of Trump might have a seed of doubt about his
fitness planted in their mind by the more amiable Haley. If that leaves that
voter more susceptible to the full Liz argument this fall, that’s valuable.
But it’s also pure speculation, maybe even wishful
thinking.
The obvious problem with the half Liz strategy is that it
offers no reason not to prefer Trump in November as the least bad option
available.
The full Liz strategy does. Trump is a threat to
democracy, Biden is not: Cheney has been clear in framing the
stakes of the election in those stark terms. Those who agree with her
will vote accordingly this fall. Haley’s message, by contrast, is that Trump is
“a raging incompetent who upsets swing voters that Republicans need to win,”
as Sarlin puts
it. He’s old, in decline, and needlessly alienates Americans who’d be willing
to vote for a less objectionable nominee …
…but all of that is also true of Joe Biden. Absent the
moral force of Cheney’s case, it’s not clear why any wary Republican would view
Trump as the greater of two evils in the general election. There’s nothing in
Haley’s criticism about that, only that the GOP can do better in a nominee.
Even her complaint about the defamation judgment against him, that it’s a
needless distraction from making the case against Democrats on policy, will
evaporate when the primary is over and he’s the only game left in town for
right-wing voters.
The full Liz is an earnest argument against returning
Trump to the presidency; the half Liz is agnostic at best on that subject and,
pending Nikki Haley’s eventual endorsement, potentially counterproductive at
worst. After all, who cares about mental fitness or defamation once it’s a
binary choice between Trump and yadda yadda “Flight 93” “end of America”?
All of this is a (very) long way of saying, I think, that
what Nikki Haley says about Trump after her campaign ends will be much more
significant than what she says about him during its current “hospice care”
stage. The half Liz strategy is fine for now—she’s earned the benefit of the
doubt on her political instincts by overperforming in the primary—but if she
turns around after exiting the race and supports Trump, she’ll have proved my
critique correct. Unless it eventually progresses to the full Liz, the half Liz
is ultimately just a “permission structure” to vote MAGA in the general
election, albeit a bit more grudgingly than you otherwise might have.
But we’ve got another month at least before Haley comes to that fork in the road and no suspense whatsoever about who’ll win the nomination to occupy our time until then. Go figure that certainly insufferably shrill Never Trumpers might cope with their boredom and fatalism by obsessing over the precise phrasing of the incantation that will at last break Trump’s spell over Republican voters and restore sanity to the right. Half Liz or full Liz? It could matter! Maybe!
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