Donald Trump may well lose next week. Now for the bad news.

There are nine days left until Election Day. In just over one week, we will know if there is a clear winner in the presidential race. But even if Joe Biden wins, and one national nightmare comes to an end, the nation will continue to face challenges that may not be easily addressed by a change in who sits in the Oval Office. 

Four years ago, it was eleven days before Election Day when Jim Comey announced the FBI's new investigation into Hillary Clinton's emails, turned the presidential race on its head, and effectively put Donald Trump on a path to winning the Presidency. While some may debate whether or not Comey's letter led to Clinton's defeat, Donald Trump is quite certain of its impact. It is the reason he has been demanding that Attorney General William Barr or FBI Director Christopher Wray announce that they are opening an investigation into Joe and Hunter Biden. It worked before, and he believes it can work again.

Even as Joe Biden continues to maintain a wide lead in national polls – averaging 9.1% at Fivethirtyeight.com and 8.0% on RealClearPolitics – Democrats, along with a fair share of Republicans and independents, remain terrified that Trump will once again grasp victory from the jaws of defeat. That fear is not unreasonable. While Fivethirtyeight currently gives Trump only twelve chances out of a hundred to win a second term, 2016 was nothing if not a lesson in probability. A twelve percent chance is not zero, and a lot of things happen only twelve percent of the time and we are not surprised. 

The difference this time around is that Donald Trump has a track record. This week, Gallup released a poll indicating that 56% of Americans believe that he does not deserve to be reelected, compared to 43% who believe he does. The 43% number is consistent with Trump's approval rating, which rarely exceeded 44% over the entire course of his presidency. That number is significant because a president's approval rating is widely viewed as the most reliable indicator of how he will perform on Election Day. Indeed, if you look through polls taken over the past several months – nationally and in the battleground states – 44% stands out as a ceiling that Trump has struggled to exceed. 

The reality remains that Trump has lost ground across nearly every demographic group in which he held an edge four years ago. Biden has made strides among the military, the elderly and white women, and even to some extent with less-educated white men. Yet the fear of what may yet happen remains unabated.

Absent being able to engineer a Comey-style October Surprise – so far, Rudy Giuliani's Hunter Biden gambit appears to have had little impact – the final presidential debate was Donald Trump's last opportunity to reframe the narrative of the presidential race away from the pandemic and his own job performance. It has become a truism of politics since the first televised presidential debate between Richard Nixon and John Kennedy in 1960 that the best way to predict voter reaction to a televised debate is to watch it with the sound turned off. And so it was last week. While Donald Trump was more restrained than in the first debate in September, the poll results were no better; he came across once again to focus groups of undecided voters as a nasty, humorless person. With the sound on you heard a man with no compassion for immigrant children torn from their parents' arms. With the sound off, you saw a man scowling and glowering. 

Trump's comfort with cruelty is not something to which his most loyal supporters turn a blind eye. Rather it is what many of them love about him. He has engendered within our politics a dynamic of roiling bitterness and resentment that reverberates at his rallies. Dating back to his early flirtations with David Duke, Trump has sanctioned conduct and brought into the mainstream behavior that has long been kept at the fringes of society. While people were shocked to see white supremacists march in Charlottesville early in Trump's presidency, little shocks us anymore – even when we see images of men with assault weapons lurking threateningly in state capitols. It barely makes news now when the FBI announces that it has made arrests in one plot after another involving plans to kidnap or kill state governors or Joe Biden. We fully expect active voter intimidation, if not violence, around polling places over the coming days. 

Donald Trump has exacted a high moral cost on his supporters, as they have learned to think things and do things they likely never would have thought or done before. One example is the price paid by his supporters in the evangelical community. For forty years, evangelical leaders have undertaken a strategic effort to support Republican candidates in exchange for the GOP commitment to build a conservative judiciary and Supreme Court. This effort reached a new level in 2016, as evangelical support for Donald Trump was more unified than for any President in memory. Yet it was an alliance that came at a steep price. While Trump delivered the judges and justices he promised, the moral stature and credibility of those evangelical leaders who stood by his side and prayed in the Oval Office have been ground into dust as they have become complicit in tolerating deeply inhumane practices. The silence of those leaders as infants and children have been torn from the arms of their parents and held in prisons along our southern border reflects their compact with Trumpism. Giving cover to his cruelty is the price they paid to win the appointment of Amy Coney Barrett to the Supreme Court. 

Over the past four years, as Donald Trump has given succor and support to white nationalist and conspiracy theorists of all stripes, the price that other Republicans are paying for their embrace of the President has become starker still. An interview last Sunday between Fox Business News anchor Maria Bartiromo and Wisconsin Senator Ron Johnson provided a glimpse into the growing influence of conspiracy theories in Republican rhetoric. Bartiromo and Johnson, each prominent members of what was once the center-right political mainstream, bantered freely about Hunter Biden in terms that touched on elements of the QAnon conspiracy theory, and seemed more akin to Alex Jones's InfoWars than a mainstream network. 

QAnon – a conspiracy theory whose main villains are a cabal of Satan-worshipping Democrats involved in pedophilia and child sex-trafficking – has emerged as a growing force in Republican politics. According to recent Yahoo News/YouGov survey research, 50% of Trump supporters believe that "top Democrats are involved in elite child sex-trafficking rings," and only one in six Trump supporters don't believe it is true.

With nine days to go, polls continue to suggest that Joe Biden is favored to win the Presidency. Yet even if he does, the bad news comes in the shape of the world that he would inherit on January 20th. Over the past four years, Donald Trump has taken a wrecking ball to the soul of the country. While we were sorely divided before he arrived, to watch as he and his supporters – in Congress and elsewhere – have worked deliberately to exacerbate those divisions is to realize how difficult the challenges are going to be to rebuild some semblance of normalcy to our politics and to our country. 

Even if he fails to win a second term and one national nightmare comes to an end, we are going to have to confront a deeper, perhaps more difficult reality. Liberated from the prospect of another four years of Donald Trump, the nation and the world will face the arduous – albeit constructive – task of figuring out where we go from here.

Follow David Paul on Twitter @dpaul. He is working on a book, with a working title of "FedExit! To Save Our Democracy, It’s Time to Let Alabama Be Alabama and Set California Free." 

Artwork by Joe Dworetzky.  Follow him on Twitter @joedworetzky or Instagram at @joefaces. 

Republican leaders have to decide: Donald Trump or Democracy.

For a day or so over the weekend, Donald Trump was off Twitter, but for notes of thanks here and there. What a relief it was. The relentless pressure that Trump applied to Joe Biden and Chris Wallace at the first presidential debate last week mirrored the daily pounding the country has had to endure months on end from a President who is determined to dominate every news cycle. 

His surrogates on the Sunday talk shows were subdued. Sparring with Chris Wallace on Fox News, Steve Cortes went so far as to suggest "the MAGA movement is bigger than just President Trump." It seemed to be a ludicrous proposition, but Trump's COVID hiatus has clearly left many of his minions reflecting on where things go from here, with the election less than a month away. 

The future of the Republican Party hangs in the balance. Not just because of the notion that the nightmare of Trumpism might well outlast the President's term in office, but because in a very short time, Republican leaders may be forced to make a choice. Donald Trump has made very real threats that he is prepared to undermine the results of the coming election if it does not go his way, and those leaders are going to have to decide where they stand.

It was barely six weeks ago, on the last night of the Republican National Convention, that the final capitulation of the Republican Party to Donald Trump's will was complete. Few Republican luminaries from the pre-Trump era chose to participate in the quadrennial meeting. Not a single former Republican president, vice president, or nominee chose to attend. There were no Bushes, no Bakers and no Cheneys, no former cabinet officials of any note. Mitt Romney and Paul Ryan – the 2012 standard bearers –  stayed away, each now widely reviled across TrumpWorld. 

As its first order of business when the conventions convened, the RNC Chair Ronna McDaniel announced that the party had decided to dispense with having a party platform. The fundamental debates that have animated the GOP for decades – between small government conservatives and what Pete Peterson famously called the unholy alliance of big-spenders and tax-cutters – have been set aside. After decades of embracing its identity as the Party of Ideas – from its legion of supply side gurus, to Newt Gingrich's Contract with America, to Ryan's myriad plans – any pretense of innovative ideas of diversity of thought was extinguished. In its place, the GOP told the world that it now officially stands for nothing more than whatever Donald Trump might happen to tweet in the moment. 

The fourth night of the convention marked the apex of Donald Trump's triumph. His choice of the White House as the venue for delivering his acceptance speech violated historical and ethical norms, and, as such, encapsulated the raised middle finger to the political establishment that has been central to his political movement. The South Portico was festooned with American flags – the type of over-the-top patriotic imagery that we have come to expect from authoritarians across the globe – and the carefully choreographed entrance was everything the President could have hoped for. 

As he and Melania slowly and deliberately descended the steps from the White House to the south lawn, and he moved to the podium, the imagery was unmistakable. The strongman, wife on his arm, graciously making an appearance before his gathered political retainers. Juan and Eva Perón could not have done it better. As he concluded his hour-long speech, fireworks appeared in the sky above the People's House, spelling out the name "TRUMP." The debasement of the GOP – and the country – was complete. 

The weeks that ensued have been dismal for the Republican Party. In one story after another, in his own words and in the words of others, Donald Trump was revealed for who he is. He was quoted trashing people in the military as losers and suckers, and evangelical pastors as hustlers. His taped interviews with Bob Woodward revealed the depth of his public lies regarding the pandemic and his disregard for the well-being of those who attend his rallies – and foreshadowed his similar disregard for major donors gathered at his Bedminster, New Jersey golf club just hours before his positive COVID test was announced this week. Then came the release of tax information by the New York Times, and the disastrous first presidential debate. 

Even before the RNC gathering in late August, Senate Republicans were showing signs of preparing for life post-Trump. Fully a third of Senate Republicans made it clear to Mitch McConnell that they would no longer rubber stamp Trump's request for additional coronavirus stimulus funding. This weekend, no doubt with a flagging economy and declining poll numbers in mind, Trump tweeted from his hospital bed for McConnell to get a deal done with Nancy Pelosi. Whether McConnell can deliver looms to be a significant test of whether Trump has fully lost his grip over Senate Republicans who are returning to the anti-debt rhetoric of their pre-Trump years. 

The greater challenge facing the Republican Party, however, is not the survival of its members in November – Mitch McConnell's singular concern in the moment – but whether it is prepared, in the face of a contested presidential election, to affirm the primacy of its commitment to the democratic order. The most revealing moment over the past several weeks came during a regular White House press briefing, when the President declined to commit to a peaceful transfer of power should he lose the 2020 election. It was a softball question – similar to "Do you disavow white supremacist groups?" – that the Donald Trump took instead as one more opportunity to amp up his core supporters. 

Should Donald Trump contest the election results as he appears prepared to do, Republican Party leaders will be forced to take a stand. The plans that the Trump campaign appears to have in the works, as described by Barton Gellman in The Atlantic, are not about recounts of close state races, circa 2000, but the wholesale overturning of state results under the fabricated pretext of fraudulent mail-in ballots. The President has been nothing if not transparent in laying the groundwork for such an effort, and has worked assiduously to instigate distrust among his supporters for any election result other than his winning, and winning big. 

The challenge for the GOP is that it the loyalty of the Republican Party base to Donald Trump may well be stronger than to the country itself. Forget the American flags they fly from their pickup trucks and boat flotillas, their love for the President's trolling, tweets and cruelty may well outstrip their affection for American democracy itself. According to Vanderbilt University political scientist Larry Bartels, a large share of Republicans have only a tenuous commitment to the basic principles of democracy. 

In his study released this summer, entitled "Ethnic antagonism erodes Republicans’ commitment to democracy," Bartels observes that that while large majorities have, over time, endorsed core democratic values in the abstract, that support breaks down when put to the test in specific circumstances. Unsurprisingly – but certainly dispiriting – Bartels concludes that "the strongest predictor by far of these antidemocratic attitudes is ethnic antagonism – especially concerns about the political power and claims on government resources of immigrants, African-Americans, and Latinos. The strong tendency of ethnocentric Republicans to countenance violence and lawlessness, even prospectively and hypothetically, underlines the significance of ethnic conflict in contemporary US politics." 

In Bartels' peer-reviewed study, a majority of Republicans agreed with the statement: “The traditional American way of life is disappearing so fast that we may have to use force to save it.” And significantly, more than 40% agreed with the statement:“A time will come when patriotic Americans have to take the law into their own hands.” In both cases, Bartels noted that most of those who did not agree outright with those statements said they were unsure whether or not they agreed. Only 20-25% of the Republicans who participated in the study were clear that they disagreed with either of the propositions. 

Against the backdrop of a significant share of Republicans supporting force or violence to preserve their view of "the traditional American way of life," the Trump campaign pursuing anti-democratic, yet legal paths to circumvent the November vote should Trump lose is relatively mild stuff. Bartels' data suggests that the President will be given wide latitude by a large share of Republicans to use whatever means he sees fit to stay in power.

If there has been any doubt among a large swath of Republicans that the Party of Lincoln has fallen under the sway of a man who has more affinity with autocrats than democrats, events over the past month should be forcing Republicans who care about the future of the party to face that reality. Yet, even in the wake of his straightforward no-peaceful-transfer-of-power threat, Republican apologists did their best to defend the President with their tried and true list of "What the President is saying...." reinterpretations of his words.

For their part, the Wall Street Journal editorial board began by lamely suggesting that the President "clarify his view" lest some voters find his comments reckless and irresponsible. Then they rambled on for hundreds of words explaining how Democrats were the real culprits, for being too easily triggered by a president whose primary political tactic for years now has been trolling Democrats. Finally, when they had exhausted all excuses, they came to rest where they should have started: "The legitimacy of election results is the bedrock of American democracy. 

The notion that the MAGA movement is bigger than just President Trump, as Steve Cortes suggested, is mirrored in Larry Bartels' data. Donald Trump has clarified his views and his intentions: he is willing to create havoc if need be to keep control over the White House and the country. The threat is very real, and there is little reason to believe that his MAGA movement will not support him in whatever he chooses to do. If the Wall Street Journal and Republican leaders – blinded by partisan hatreds as they might be – actually believe in the bedrock principles of Madisonian democracy, as they have long claimed, this would be the moment to stand up and defend it.

Follow David Paul on Twitter @dpaul. He is working on a book, with a working title of "FedExit! To Save Our Democracy, It’s Time to Let Alabama Be Alabama and Set California Free." 

Artwork by Joe Dworetzky.  Follow him on Twitter @joedworetzky or Instagram at @joefaces. 

Waiting for Donald Trump's next tweetstorm.

It occurred to me that Covid-19 might yet save Donald Trump's presidential campaign. I imagined that he might have a moment of epiphany. Lying in his hospital bed, an oxygen mask strapped on his face, fearful of what might lie ahead, he might think of the 210,000 Americans who had died on his watch and consider the mistakes that he made along the way.

His fear would be real. He had described Covid-19 as a killer in his conversations with Bob Woodward, even if he had perpetuated to this day the belief among his followers that it is something between the common flu and a Democrat hoax. Now was the moment that he would come clean, and it could be a powerful, cleansing moment for the country. He would apologize for failing to be honest with the nation. He would promise to do better, and to lead the nation to health. He would assure the country that as we put the pandemic behind us – really put it behind us – he would rebuild the economy to greater heights than ever.

He might even apologize specifically to those who had been most adversely affected. Frontline workers, people of color, service workers whose sources of livelihood had disappeared. He would call on his supporters – his MAGA fire-breathers and wealthy donors alike – to follow his lead and heal a pandemic-stricken nation. 

There are 30 days left until Election Day, and short of revving up Bill Barr's goon squads and the Proud Boys and their ilk, such a moment of confession and renewal might be the only path forward to reelection. Swing voters and suburban women, whom he has alienated step-by-step for months now, culminating in his 90 minutes of rage at the first presidential debate, would respond positively to the contrition and the humility.

It would be a long shot, but it might actually keep him in the White House, and his family out of jail.

I don't know if it was a moment of reverie or fear, but it passed. 

Contrition and humility were never in the cards. "Tremendous progress has been made over the last 6 months in fighting this PLAGUE," Trump tweeted this morning. I don't know what I was thinking.

Before I left for a hike this morning, I thought back to when Len Bias died. One of the great college basketball players of my lifetime, Bias died of a cocaine overdose three days after he was drafted number two by the Boston Celtics. From that moment, recreational cocaine use on Wall Street visibly fell out of favor. I thought that perhaps the President lying in Walter Reed Hospital with Covid-19 might have a similar impact.

I was wrong. Like always, a large percentage of hikers that we passed along the narrow trail continued to disdain wearing masks. The hiker with a "Trump 2020" tee-shirt smiled and greeted my dog warmly. But he did not wear a mask. 

When I drove to the store a bit later, I passed a Trump rally on the street corner. A dozen or so people waving American flags, holding up signs, and darting into traffic to hand out fliers. But, as always, they were clustered close together and only one or two wore masks. 

Clearly, the lessons of Donald Trump lying in the hospital, and the growing toll of the super-spreader event on the White House lawn, had meant little or nothing.

The norm of prayers and condolences in these moments are well understood across society. When someone is sick, you wish them well. When someone dies, you tell people you are sorry for their loss. And the wishes and sorrow should be sincere, and usually are. We are all human, and no one should wish suffering or harm on anyone. 

Yet Donald Trump has changed all that. He has made causing suffering and harm a deliberate goal – or at least a widely acceptable consequence – of public policy in ways we have never seen before. He made it a matter of policy to separate parents from their children along the southern border, and locked their children in cages. He did it with such incompetence and reckless disregard that many could never be reunited. Now, we hear reports of the forced sterilization of young women. It is barbaric, and it is all in our name. We are Americans and this is our policy.

He has used the pain and suffering of others as props in his never-ending political reality show. Now, we are supposed to express our sympathy for a man who publicly derided Hillary Clinton when she was stricken with pneumonia during the last campaign, and who made fun of a disabled journalist, and who promoted or instigated conspiracy theories accusing any number of politically useful targets of unspeakable acts. 

I thought, perhaps, being stricken with Covid-19 might produce a moment of epiphany, even as I knew that was not possible. From the moment I heard that he had been sent to the hospital "as a precaution," I immediately suspected it was a lie. And what has ensued has been a stream of lies. We really have no idea what his condition is from one moment to the next.

Lying has become a matter of habit in this administration. From the top. Donald Trump has always lied, whenever and however it serves his purpose. And those around him must lie. It is a condition of employment, part of the culture. He went to the hospital because his condition was serious, but they cannot call him sick, because that sounds weak, so they lie. 

Today, driving home in the car, after the hike and after the Trump rally, I turned on the radio and heard a physician begin to address the media. My immediate thought was, finally, a doctor with no spin. Then he started. "The patient is 74 years old. Male. Slightly overweight..." There it was, I thought immediately, this is not a Walter Reed physician, this must be Trump's personal physician. And it was. He was spinning Trump's weight, as they have since the beginning. And so it went. A reporter asked, "Has the President been on oxygen." It is a reasonable question for understanding the extent of the illness. "He is not on oxygen now," the doctor responded. He evaded the obvious follow up. More spin. Slightly overweight.

My notion that Donald Trump would emerge from Walter Reed a changed man was an illusion. Perhaps there will be a sympathy vote; we are a forgiving people by nature. But as with all things Trump, the sympathy and compassion will only go one way. His own experience with the nation's best medical care will not leave him sympathetic to those whom his administration is aggressively seeking to deprive of medical care. His own brush with death will not humanize him to the point where he apologizes for his policy failures and cruelty, or shows a modicum of empathy toward those who have suffered under his watch.

It has been 48 hours since Trump's last tweetstorm, where he lashed out at his enemies, near and wide, as he is wont to do. Whether Covid-19 changes him at all will be measured by how long that hiatus lasts, and how soon the viciousness that is his nature and that his supporters love so dearly returns for all the world to see. For a moment there, I suspected that it was possible that things might change. I now realize how unlikely that is.