Donald Trump

Jon Sopel, The Independent

It is hard to decide which is the best moniker to apply to him after this strange but magnificent political week for Donald Trump — is he the martyr of Milwaukee, or the messiah of Milwaukee? In the eyes of the faithful — and given the quasi-religious devotion he is now attracting — it is both.

With his neat, square bandage over his right ear, it was a less bombastic and bellicose Trump who accepted his party’s nomination this week. The great pugilist on Thursday night came, not in search of a fight, but with a plea for unity. How long this new incarnation of the former president will last is anyone’s guess. But let no one doubt its effectiveness right now, in this strange political moment.

The political unity he is offering is very much on his terms: you can have political unity and America will come together, but only if you stop persecuting me — only if you stop the prosecutions. It will only happen once you realise that I am the true champion of democracy, not its destroyer. In other words, can we all forget about 6 January, please?

There’s a real irony in Trump, of all people, calling for unity. The same Trump who gave us the so-called “Muslim ban”; the Trump whose supporters stormed Capitol Hill; the Trump whose new running mate responded to Labour’s election victory by referring to the UK as an “Islamist country”. The scene at the convention was of a “united” front, but it felt like the “nastiness” in politics was ready to make a triumphant return to the surface.

Trump’s speech lasted an exhausting hour and a half. Some of it stuck to script; much didn’t. But no matter — unlike eight years ago, when Trump accepted his party’s nomination in Cleveland and there was still considerable resentment about the property tycoon’s takeover of the Republican Party, it is now entirely his. The GOP is Donald Trump; Donald Trump is the GOP.

And the party leaves Wisconsin this week in the finest fettle. Have the stars ever aligned more perfectly over that key swing state? Trump has long desired to make this election a choice between strength and weakness. The assassination attempt — and Trump’s visceral, searing, extraordinary, powerful reaction to it — has sealed the deal on that front: the fist pump, the bloodied face, the stars and stripes fluttering behind him, the Secret Service trying to get him off the stage — it was iconic. He projected — exuded — strength.

With astonishing political instincts and exceptional awareness of the power of the image, Trump, in that moment of profound shock, knew exactly what he was doing. And like a rising sun and a fading moon, as Trump waxes, so Biden wanes. It is horrible to watch. If this were a boxing match you would be shrieking at Biden’s corner to throw in the towel; for the referee to stop the fight. The old guy looks tottering, weak, enfeebled.

Biden is stubborn, and in recent weeks has been very Trump-like in his railing at the elites who are trying to bring him down, and his belief that only he can beat his opponent. His response has also been laced with chippiness, at the idea that he has always been underestimated. And with arrogance, in his conviction that he knows best.

But like those conversations we have with very elderly relatives — when you try to tell them that they should no longer be driving because of their failing faculties, and they don’t want to believe it – how do you get Biden to give up the car keys? How do you cajole him to do what is for the best? It’s not proving easy. For the past year or so that I have been writing these columns, I have often fallen back on the formula of “as things stand, it looks like it will be Trump vs Biden in November”. When I wrote that I thought it more likely that it would be Trump who would withdraw — because of legal problems, fear of losing again, or whatever — what I hadn’t anticipated was the speed of Biden’s decline.