Every night is kid’s night at GOP’s national convention
Donald Trump arrived here Wednesday with a few words to the fans assembled at the helicopter pad. Really, just a few. Win Ohio ... make America great ... Mike Pence ... unbelievable vice president.
“Welcome to Cleveland,” Pence said.
It was a little peculiar that the governor of Indiana was doing the greeting, but there was, you know, that problem with John Kasich’s being on strike from the convention.
It was Pence’s big night, although Trump made it pretty clear that he was more excited about his son Eric’s turn on stage. (“Eric’s going to be great ... amazing job. Kids, congratulations. Fantastic job.”)
Which Trump child has been your favorite so far? I think you have to give a little credit to Tiffany, who labors under the burden of having been named for a jewelry store and got stuck with the job of telling the long-awaited touching personal anecdotes about her father.
The kids have been a relatively heartwarming feature, considering that virtually everybody else, including the conventioneers, has spent a large chunk of time demanding that Hillary Clinton be sent directly to the pokey. Trump pops up all over the place, like Pokémon. When he’s not around, the delegates listen to his relatives, or speakers calling for the imprisonment of his opponent.
Ted Cruz began with a shout-out to LeBron James, then generously congratulated Trump “on winning the nomination last night,” before lurching into a speech about the meaning of freedom. The biggest emotional drama of the night came when the enraged delegates realized Cruz was never going to mention the nominee again.
Nobody matched Chris Christie’s pseudo-trial on Tuesday finding Clinton “guilty” of crimes ranging from the war in Syria to the kidnapping of Nigerian schoolgirls by terrorists.
It was hard to imagine anybody topping that performance, but a New Hampshire delegate — who is also a well-known Trump adviser on veterans affairs — upped the ante, telling a radio interviewer that Clinton should be “shot for treason.” State Rep. Al Baldasaro doubled down the next day and added a hope for the electric chair.
The leader of New Hampshire’s Republican Party called on Baldasaro to take it back, but being a Trumpite means never having to say you’re sorry.
In a preconvention interview, CBS’ Lesley Stahl asked Pence if he thought that as vice president, he’d ever be able to go to his boss and say that he’d “crossed the line” and needed to apologize. Pence stammered desperately until Trump broke in and said: “Absolutely. I might not apologize . ... I might not do that. But I would absolutely want him to come in.”
Pence is never going to be a central point of interest in this campaign. But some people do believe the vice presidential selection is more important than usual because Trump could get bored quickly with the actual day-to-day responsibilities of the presidency and toss everything short of declaring nuclear war over to his veep. Which is certainly possible. But on the other hand, Trump could just as easily put Donald Jr. in charge.
And we now know that if Trump did something terrible, Pence would have no chance whatsoever to get him to say he’s sorry. But the vice presidential nominee has total rights to go into his office and be ignored.
The main WASHINGTON — purpose of the modern political convention is to produce four days of televised propaganda. The subsidiary function, now that nominees are invariably chosen in advance, is structural: Unify the party before the final battle. In Cleveland, the Republicans achieved not unity, but only a rough facsimile.
The internal opposition consisted of two factions. The more flamboyant was led by Ted Cruz. Its first operation — an undermanned, underplanned, mini-rebellion over convention rules — was ruthlessly steamrolled on Day One. Its other operation was Cruz’s Wednesday night convention speech