Donald Trump wins Nevada Republican caucuses in effective one-horse race
Donald Trump was anointed the victor of Nevada Republican caucuses, after staunch loyalists in the state helped maneuver the election process to assure his success.
Shortly after the caucuses concluded, the AP confirmed Trump, who was the only major candidate participating, as the winner, capping off a perplexing election week in a key battleground state. Ryan Binkley, a littleknown pastor and businessman from Texas, was the only other candidate running.
With Joe Biden having easily secured victory in the Democratic primary on Tuesday, the current and former president are one step closer to a rematch in the November general election. Trump’s victory on Tuesday came on the same day that the US supreme court appeared poised to reject a challenge to his candidacy in Colorado over his attempts to subvert the 2020 election results.
Nevada’s “first in the west” presidential choice contest is usually a crucial milestone for both major parties. But this year’s primaries were a strange and subdued affair, and sparsely attended – only 16% of registered voters in Nevada participated in the primary.
The odd, bifurcated Republican voting system may be partly to blame.
The caucuses, which were organized by the state’s GOP, came just two days after the Republican primary in which Nikki Haley, despite being the only candidate on the ballot, trailed behind a “none of these candidates” option. Registered Republicans in the state were eligible to vote in both the caucuses and the primary, but candidates could only compete in one or the other. All of the state’s 26 Republican delegates will be allocated based on the caucus, whereas the primary results are non-binding.
For years, Nevada held caucuses – calling on voters from each major party to gather at local sites to debate and then vote for a preferred candidate. But after the last presidential election, lawmakers in the state passed legislation requiring primaries instead, arguing that the more traditional style of voting, either at polling stations or by mail, would make it easier for more people to participate.
But state Republicans rejected the change. Although they still held primaries on Tuesday, as required by law, they also held their own caucuses that reflect their party’s efforts to limit voting.
Those participating in the caucuses were required to come in person, at specific locations, and bring a photo ID. As voters sardined into a high school in
Henderson, Nevada, attendees packed into the gymnasium.
“He needs our support – look at the treatment he’s getting ,” said Takashi Tamara, 83, referring to the legal cases against the Trump. He had initially been confused about why Trump’s name wasn’t on the primary ballot on Tuesday, until a volunteer with the local Republican party explained that it was only the caucuses that would count toward the nomination process.
As the line of voters outside the school grew, snaking around the corner, some began to leave early. Several voters had been mistaken about which precinct they were supposed to report to. Others were annoyed at the chaos inside the packed gymnasium.
Leaders of the caucus effort, which included Trump allies who were indicted for their roles in trying to overturn the 2020 election results, said the process was more secure than the primaries. The claim has been contested by election experts, and voter fraud is exceedingly rare.
Media, who had in past elections been allowed to observe both Democratic and Republican caucuses, were being barred from observing inside the caucus location by party officials.
“We’ve had really disappointing relationships with the press, we are very defensive as a result,” said Jesse Law, GOP chair for Clark county, which encompasses Las Vegas. Law was one of six Republican electors who signed fake electoral certificates declaring Trump the winner of Nevada in 2020, despite Biden winning the state by more than 30,000 votes, and was indicted for his role in the scheme by a grand jury.
Voting experts are unclear on how disinformation about the voting process, and confusion around the dueling primary election systems, might affect turnout in future elections.
At a Las Vegas rally last week,
Trump encouraged voters to ignore the primaries in favor of the caucus. “Don’t waste your time on primary,” he said. “Waste all of your time on caucus because the primary doesn’t mean anything.”
Trump won the caucuses here and in the US Virgin Islands – a territory where residents cannot vote in the presidential election, but can help choose the candidate.
ingly, she was accepting new patients (which might have had something to do with her office being a 35-minute drive outside the city). So what that she didn’t take my insurance? Or that she couldn’t even prescribe meds? I was so desperate for someone to take me seriously that I was more than happy to give her all my money along with my abridged life story over the course of a few 50-minute sessions.
Dr B not only took me seriously but also validated my feelings – and the more I talked, the more I realized how many of my flaws were likely ADHD symptoms. And the more dots I connected, the more I cried. I cried because
I was relieved to have an explanation and also because I was sad for how hard everyone (including me) had been on my younger self.
My final session with Dr B was less emotionally fraught. It was surprisingly kinda fun. She performed a series of cognitive tests as part of a more official ADHD evaluation. I blew her mind with some of my abilities (like repeating a ridiculously long series of random numbers) and we both laughed when my short-term memory failed me miserably (like when I had to repeat anything in backward order and never got past the first word, character or digit).
“I can’t believe you made it to 35 without anyone figuring this out,” Dr B said as she handed me a referral sheet she’d filled out by hand.
“Almost 36,” I said, noticing that on the line for diagnosis, she had written “ADHD & gifted”.
Before I left, she gave me the name of a psychiatrist who would take my insurance – and give me meds.
The diagnosis has helped Kyle to be a little more understanding when I forget we have plans or insist he buy me broccoli only to let it rot in the bottom of the fridge. The medication helps me maintain my focus on work during the day so I can be more present with my family (there are four of us now) in the evenings. And couples therapy taught me that in a relationship, trying harder is usually a good thing.
But let’s not pretend that’s my happy ending, because it’s not.
When I wrote this essay a few years ago, I believed my ADHD diagnosis had saved my marriage. In reality, it just prolonged the inevitable – which isn’t nothing, especially with young kids. But it turns out there was a lot more we didn’t know about ourselves or each other when we got married, and no amount of trying harder could transform temperaments, alter attachment styles or undo a decade of resentment.
In November of 2023, after lots of therapy, I decided to choose my own joy and separated from my husband. Perhaps if I’d been diagnosed when I was younger, I would have had a better understanding of my needs and limitations going into the relationship, but as I enter this new chapter of life, I’m hopeful and so grateful for the selfawareness I’ve gained along the way.
This is an edited excerpt from Emily Farris’s memoir, I’ll Just Be Five More Minutes, out now.
No matter how hard I tried, I somehow always found a way to self-destruct