'You have to respond forcefully': can Joe Biden fight Trump's brutal tactics?
Once, Joe Biden was adamant. He would wait until after the November election to give his opponent a nickname: “Former president Donald Trump.” But as the smears from the president, his family and his campaign grew increasingly caustic, Biden responded with a moniker of his own.
“I call him President Tweety,” Biden said this week.
The name was perhaps more a statement of fact than an effective rejoinder to Trump’s own nickname for Biden: “Sleepy Joe”. But its genesis also reflected the difficulty of running against a man whose appetite for political combat defined his rise to power.
Name-calling, conspiracy-peddling and grievance-airing were parts of the playbook Trump deployed in 2016, first against 16 Republicans, then against Hillary Clinton.
Now, six months before another election, eager to distract from a pandemic that has killed nearly 100,000 and ravaged the US economy, Trump and his allies are reprising these same brutal tactics, generating a fog of insinuations, accusations and smears.
“He’s going to throw everything and the kitchen sink,” said Moe Vela, a former senior adviser to Biden. “And we haven’t seen the kitchen sink yet.”
Flush with cash and digital prowess, the Trump campaign recently unveiled an ad offensive targeting Biden on fronts including his age and past comments on China. Trump hammered the theme in an interview on Sunday, the 73-year-old president accusing his 77-year-old rival of lacking the mental acuity to lead an economic recovery, claiming Biden “doesn’t know he’s alive”.
The president’s sons also got in on the act. On Fox News, Eric Trump accused Democrats of “milking” coronavirus lockdowns to improve their electoral prospects. Donald Trump Jr shared a meme that baselessly suggested Biden was a pedophile. The younger Trump claimed he was “just joking” – then shared another message that made the same insinuation.
All of that came as Trump launched a dark and unfounded accusation that Barack Obama – and by extension his vice-president – was involved in a plot to undermine his successor.
“God almighty this is sick,” Biden told Yahoo News. But he dismissed the onslaught as a tired attempt to divert the public from Trump’s handling of the coronavirus outbreak, a central theme of the Biden post-primary campaign so far.
Asked if he intended to ignore the president, Biden, who once challenged Trump to a push-up contest, replied: “I don’t want to get down in the mud with these guys.”
And yet his campaign has acknowledged the effectiveness of Trump’s tactics in a fundraising email that included a screen grab of one of the president’s campaign blasts to supporters that carried the subject line: Joe Biden Is Guilty.Biden’s campaign, lamenting the falsehoods in the email, warned: “It is the EXACT same thing he did in 2016. And quite honestly, we’re scared because we know it worked last time.”
‘The more he talks, the better off I am’
The Trump camp hopes to frame the election as it did in 2016: a choice between an anti-establishment change agent and a corrupt Washington insider. But it is far from certain if it can deliver the same dramatic ending, as the cast, roles and backdrop have all changed significantly.
Trump is now a president with a governing record to defend. And Biden, despite his vulnerabilities and a lengthy record of his own, is far less polarizing than Clinton, who had been the target of decades of sensationalist attacks.
The campaign looks different too. It remains uncertain when, if ever, the candidates will be able return to the traditional trail. Under the pandemic, rallies, debates, even party conventions are in doubt. And though Biden lacks Trump’s bully pulpit, he believes the new landscape has worked to his advantage.
“The more he talks, the better off I
am,” the challenger said this week.
Yet even by the standards of Trump’s presidency, his behavior has alarmed some in his party. They fear he may cost them the Senate and the White House. But he has also rattled some Democrats, who warn that he now has at his disposal the arsenal of the federal government, reinforced by Republican allies in Congress.
“He used to tweet, ‘Lock her up,’ said Jesse Ferguson, a Democratic operative who worked on Clinton’s campaign. “Now he pressures the justice department to issue a subpoena.”
After Trump alleged criminal conduct by his predecessor in the Oval Office, attorney general William Barr was forced to respond, dismissing the possibility of an investigation into Obama or Biden. But Barr did not count out investigations of Obama aides and Senate Republicans vowed to look into the matter. Ron Johnson, of Wisconsin,forged aheadwith a vote this week, authorizing a subpoena to investigate business dealings involving Biden’s son, Hunter.
Democrats think an anxious nation simply wants leadership in a moment of crisis.
“[Trump] tries to be the master distractor but it’s those very distractions that are one of his biggest problems right now,” Ferguson said. “Every time he goes in for a smear, what people see is him avoiding responsibility for his failures.”
‘A lizard brain’
Trump’s penchant for conspiracy theories poses a unique problem. Responding to baseless claims risks elevating them. Not responding can allow such claims to spread uncontrollably.
Already Trump has elevated unsubstantiated claims about Biden’s ties to China, his son’s business dealings and the supposed “deep state” plot he calls “Obamagate”. Inside the conservative media echo chamber, these messages are easily amplified.
“Trump is uniquely skilled at this,” said Tim Miller, a Republican who worked on Jeb Bush’s 2016 campaign. “He’s got a lizard brain for it.”
Miller said it was important to closely monitor stories on social media and fringe websites, to determine what is gaining traction and thus warrants a response.
Part of the trick is knowing when and how to respond. He said Biden’s campaign should arm allies and surrogates with forceful rebuttals, particularly to claims about Hunter Biden and the Obama administration. Perhaps most importantly, he said, the campaign must be ready to go on the offensive.
“One of the lessons we learned from 2016 is that just pivoting to policy is not a solution,” he said.
Biden’s campaign has been quick to decry Trump’s attacks as a sign of desperation, as the president slides in national polls. In response to the effort to paint Biden as “China’s puppet”, an ad hit Trump as soft on Beijing. And the campaign has also escalated critiques of Trump’s response to the coronavirus crisis.
“We know that Donald Trump has utterly failed his test of leadership,” Biden said at a virtual Wisconsin rally. “He thinks he’s a builder but he’s a destroyer of everything he touches.”
In turn, the Trump camp has indicated that little will be off limits – even charges that apply equally to the president himself. When Biden said on Friday that African Americans who don’t support him “ain’t black”, the Trump campaign quickly assembled a press call featuring prominent black supporters of a president whose critics regularly accuse him of racism. Hours later, Biden apologized.
As one Republican operative described the strategy, “It’s not, ‘My guy is better than your guy.’ It’s ‘Your guy isn’t as good as you think he is.’”
‘You can’t let any attack go unanswered’
Give the current national crisis, few strategists believe Trump can successfully reframe the election as anything but a referendum on his record in office. Democrats say his scattershot messaging suggests his campaign is struggling to find a line of attack that sticks.
But even a marginal impact on support or turnout could make a difference in what will likely be another close race, said Ben Tulchin, a top pollster on both Bernie Sanders campaigns for the Democratic nomination.
“You can’t let any attack go unanswered,” he said. “Any attack he makes, you have to respond forcefully. You can’t allow him to define you.”
After nearly 50 years in national politics, Biden believes Trump and his allies face an uphill battle trying to change public perception of him.
“People know me,” Biden said this week. “The good news is the bad news.”
On Friday evening, perhaps seeking to assuage any doubts stoked by Trump’s “Sleepy Joe” attacks, the candidate outlined for donors a daily workout routine designed by a former White House doctor. Every exercise and repetition must add up to 46, Biden said, because he would be the 46th president.
“I wish I’d been the 20th president,” he said. “It would have been a lot easier.”
at 5.30pm, and then waiting until bedtime (or the peak of your starter) to make the preferment.
Once the starter is ready to go, mix it with the water and then add the flour. Stir until combined and cover with cling film or a wrap. I hate recommending cling film but it does do a good job here.
Leave this in a reasonably warm, draft-free place overnight. I use my oven without the light or heat on.
To make the bread (the next morning)
In a large bowl, combine the flours, salt and ginger powder (if you’re using it). Whisk to combine.
In a medium sized mixing bowl, combine the psyllium husk and water and whisk to combine. Allow the mixture to sit until it has gelled up before adding the honey or maple syrup and apple cider vinegar.
Add the psyllium husk gel to the preferment, whisking to mix. Add this wet mixture to the flours and use a spoon to combine as much as possible. Once it’s almost mixed, gently squelch the dough through your hands, picking up dry bits of flour as you go.
If you’ve weighed everything diligently there shouldn’t be a need for extra water, but you can add 1-2 tbsp if it’s truly necessary. You should be able to pick up the dough and shape it, although depending on how much water you’ve used it might be a little wobbly in your hands.
Once the dough is completely mixed through and formed into a rough ball, tip it onto a very lightly (white rice) floured bench. Use your hands to close any seams as much as possible. Make sure the side with no seams is the top of your loaf.
When the dough is shaped, very lightly flour your banneton or bowl with white rice flour (this is particularly important if your banneton is new). Place the nice side of the dough (aka the side with no seams) down into the banneton. The base of the loaf (with the seams) should be facing upwards now.
Cover the loaf with a lightly oiled shower cap or the cling you used for the preferment. Place this in a plastic bag or airtight container in a warm, draft free place for 2-3 hours, or until it’s a little jiggly – a finger-poke should spring back halfway. In winter, I like to use my oven with just the light turned on to proof my loaves halfway.
To bake the loaf
An hour or so before baking the loaf, place your Dutch oven in the oven and get the heat up to 250C. Making sure the dutch oven is very hot is integral to getting oven spring. Ensure you’ve checked that your dutch oven is high heat safe, or you might lose a lid handle.
When the oven and loaf are both ready, take a medium-length piece of baking paper and lay it on the bench. It needs to be long enough that you can lower the loaf into the dutch oven without burning your arms. In my experience, dropping the loaf into the dutch oven results in a flat and gummy loaf.
Invert the loaf onto the centre of the baking paper, leaving the edges for lowering handles. You might need to use your fingers to (very gently) encourage the loaf to detach from the banneton. Don’t use force or you’ll knock the air out of the loaf.
Use a lame (sharp scoring blade) or a sharp knife to make a reasonably deep incision in the loaf. Google ‘bread scoring’ for some pattern ideas, or just keep it simple and score straight down the centre.
Get all your oven gear ready to work quickly for this next step. Carefully and quickly remove the super hot dutch oven from the oven. Shut the oven door while you work. Take the lid off and quickly lower in the bread. If you’re using an ice cube for extra oven spring, add it now – the ice cube will create steam which will help the bread rise quickly when it first enters the oven. Pop the lid back on and quickly return the dutch oven to the oven. For a dark loaf, keep the oven at 250C. For a lighter loaf, turn it down to 220C.
Bake the loaf with the lid on for 40-50 minutes. If you prefer a less caramelised (aka dark) crust, leave the lid on a little longer. Once the time is up, remove the lid and continue to bake your loaf for another 40 or so minutes, or until the crust sounds hollow when you knock on it and is deeply caramelised brown in colour. At aminimum, the loaf should be in the oven for 1 hour 10 minutes. Taking it out earlier will result in a gummy interior. Maximum cooking time is around 1 hour 30 minutes.
Once cooked, remove the loaf from the oven and baking paper and place it on a cooling rack. Allow to cool completely (3-4 hours at least) before slicing into it, as slicing too soon can compress all the air in the loaf and result in a gummy loaf.
You can store the loaf in a bag or freeze it in slices. It keeps well for a week or so and makes great toast even after it has become a little stale.
Starter notes
Because there is a wide array of gluten-free flours, you have a lot of choice in terms of what to feed your starter. Keep in mind a few things if you’d like to experiment with different flours:
The quality and flavour of the flour you choose will directly impact the taste of your loaf. Buying a cheap, gritty flour to feed your starter will have a carryon effect in the final bread.
Starches such as tapioca or potato starch are not suitable for creating a starter. They will send the yeast into overdrive and become unwieldy.
Starters thrive on a wholegrain diet with a higher protein content. I personally like the combination of quinoa flour (which you can grind yourself from quinoa) and sorghum flour for this reason. If sorghum flour isn’t available to you, try brown rice flour.
At the moment, I am using a 100% white rice flour feed, which has been working well for me. I like to begin my starter by feeding it the quinoa and sorghum mixture and then transition it to a white rice flour feed once it is mature. You can play around with what works for your budget and tastes.
Different gluten-free flours absorb different amounts of water, so depending on the flour used, you might need to add more or less water.
There are a lot of different elements to consider and control in creating your starter. These include:
Temperature. Starters (and loaves) thrive in warmer temperatures and kitchens. This means that it will take considerably longer to get a starter going in winter or in a cold kitchen. Take this into account when you’re panicking that nothing is happening. I like to turn my oven light on and give my starter a little boost if it’s looking sluggish.
Water. In some places the contents of the water can hinder starter growth. If the water quality isn’t great where you are, consider using filtered water as opposed to tap.
Your vessel of choice. Starters don’t play nicely with steel, so use a glass jug or jar for your starter. It’s helpful to use a jar you can mark or get a rubber band around – this helps you to visually track the growth and progress of your starter (the best bit!). If you’ve got one, use a wooden spoon to stir your starter when you feed it.
Time. New starters can often take a month or so to produce a really good quality loaf. Patience is key! As much as I hate to admit it, starters love consistency. Once you get them going they are pretty difficult to kill, but their baking abilities shine when you follow as regular a feed and discard schedule as possible.
Ingredient notes
The most important ingredient is your sourdough starter, so make sure it’s ready and healthy before you begin baking bread.
I have no substitute for psyllium husk in this recipe. It’s quite literally the glue that will hold your bread together – a gluten substitute that happens to absorb a lot of liquid. It can be sold as psyllium husk flakes and/or in the fibre supplement section. It can often be marketed as a product to aid with ‘regularity’.
White rice flour and tapioca flour are easily found at a supermarket in Australia. Sorghum and quinoa are less common, but can often be found at health food stores.
You can use brown rice flour in place of white, but consider adding a tablespoon or so of extra water to compensate.
You can also grind your own quinoa flour from whole white quinoa using a high-speed food processor (I use a Nutribullet). Toasting it is as simple as dry toasting it over a medium flame until golden in colour and fragrant.
If you can, try to use a fine, good quality salt as opposed to table salt. Some bakers say that the iodine in table salt can leave a bitter taste in bread.
Ginger powder and apple cider vinegar are bread enhancers – think of them like an espresso for yeast. They’re optional though, so don’t rush out to the shops if you don’t have them on hand.
I have a behemoth guide to this bread on my website, so if you need further troubleshooting, visit georgeats.com.
about 100 to 150 of those large enough to be felt. The country lies across tectonic plates on the edge of the Pacific “ring of fire”, a 40,000km arc of volcanoes and ocean trenches.
There are several big earthquakes – magnitude six and above – each year on average; not all of them are felt everywhere in the country but many New Zealanders would have experienced at least one that was truly scary. You can only be so prepared, and so you prepare and then try to forget about it; occasionally you hear a distant rumble, cock an ear, and think to yourself, “Is that … ?” before realising the sound is a plane coming in to land or an especially heavy truck.
But sometimes, seconds later, the room starts to wobble and so you freeze as the prime minister did on Monday and make a quick mental calculation: is this getting stronger or weaker? The dying quakes sputter out within seconds, usually, and you’re back to whatever you were doing. In the wake of them, many New Zealanders log on to Twitter where a dedicated hashtag, #eqnz, has been in use for a decade. There, friends, enemies and politicians alike share advice, jokes, swearing, and relief – with levels of hysteria dependent on the earthquake’s magnitude – even if it’s the middle of the night.
The rare shakes that build – where the rumbling becomes a roar and it lasts long enough that you have time to realise you should drop for cover, dive for children or pets, grab your glasses and phone and shoes wondering if the house might fall down or if you might die – those are the kind we all dread.
My fear the moment that a serious shake begins doesn’t come from the unknown, but from the known: covering the aftermath of the Christchurch earthquakes in 2010 and 2011 and remembering what that city looked like, what happened to people.
Hours after the February 2011 quake that killed 185 people, I watched a former flatmate being pulled alive from the rubble on the television news. Before Christchurch, earthquakes were common but the possibility that one could tear the ground apart under our feet seemed hypothetical. Now we know that’s not the case.
Instead, our seeming insouciance, like the prime minister’s, in the face of shakes comes from knowing “the big one” could happen any time, from thinking about it so much. Civil defence officials encourage households to plan what they’d do in the event of a quake and emergency kits are a common sight in homes.
In New Zealand earthquake preparation is a public business. Around my neighbourhood in Wellington, near the sea, a “tsunami zone” is demarcated, cheerfully, by blue lines that let you know when you’ve climbed high enough on a hilly street to reach safety. My husband and I secured our rental property immediately after a major quake in 2016 because the previous occupants – recent arrivals from Britain – had been so traumatised by the experience of fleeing a tsunami risk area in the middle of the night that they no longer wanted to live there.
We eyeballed the distance to the nearest raised ground – seven minutes away on foot, probably quicker if we thought we might die – and signed the lease. Besides, it was either that or a central city apartment building, and who knew whether that was any safer? “It’s Wellington,” we shrugged. “You’ve got to live somewhere.”
This afternoon as I worked, a rumble grew in the distance and I cocked my head. “Is that ?” I thought, and then the couch began to shake. I fired off a message to my boss: “Another ducking earthquake!”(I did not mean “ducking”), and paused, deciding whether to act. Was it building, or dying away? Moments later it was over; a car alarm wailed on my street, New Zealanders complained on Twitter, normal life resumed. I wondered what Jacinda Ardern was doing.