analysis

I’ve seen them on the TV. But nothing could have prepared me for a Trump rally.

It’s been several hours since I got back to my hotel and I’m still struggling to put the experience into words.

The first thing I noticed were chants of “lock her up, lock her up” and “USA, USA” at least a mile from the Freedom Hill Amphitheatre in Sterling Heights, not far from Detroit.

They got louder and more intimidating with every yard the taxi moved forward, which wasn’t very quickly.

It seemed like the world and his wife were en route.

As I sat in traffic, two teenagers (they might not have even been that old) walked past with “Trump that B **** ” signs. That set the tone for the rest of the night.

Arriving was one thing; before I could enter the arena I had to make my way through the sprawling merchandise stalls and hundreds if not thousands of people who had arrived too late to get in to see their man.

I learned some diehard enthusiasts had been queuing since the afternoon of the day before just to get a spot.

Those who had missed out didn’t take kindly to the media being given preferential treatment.

And the hostility continued inside where the tension was palpable, although most people were friendly one on one.

After a police dog had sniffed my rucksack and an officer searched my belongings, I was finally allowed in.

Immediately I was hit by a wall of sound – a mixture of loud, upbeat music interspersed with occasional 7,000-strong cries of “Trump, Trump, Trump”.

Then, just when I didn’t think the cheering could get any louder, it did.

He walked out on stage and the roar was deafening.

Wearing a long black winter coat and a white cap pulled so low down his face was barely visible, he spoke for about 40 minutes, attacking Hillary Clinton at every turn.

The crowd lapped it up, with his rhetoric on immigrants – particularly Syrian refugees – going down especially well.

It was a predominantly, but not entirely, white audience and I saw one man waving a “Blacks for Trump” sign.

Others had placards saying “Jews for Trump” and “Women for Trump”.

One young boy – he could not have been aged older than 13 – was running about shouting excitedly: “Kids for Trump.”

My surprise at their involvement was slapped down by one supporter who described the tycoon as a very good “employer of minorities”.

Amid the collective frenzy, it is easy to understand how people have become so caught up in the Trump “movement” as he calls it.

They aren’t there to learn anything new or to change their minds, merely to have their existing opinions reinforced.

The desire for validation is a basic human instinct.

Surrounded by like-minded folk, they get affirmation in bucket loads, although that isn’t necessarily enough to win an election of course.