The second Trump presidency has proved beyond doubt that cowardice is contagious. A blustering, mentally unstable bully has cowed powerful law firms, giant media companies, venerated universities and mighty tech billionaires.
And Congress. Where there should have been challenge, there has been timid acquiescence from Republicans who depend on his patronage. Barely a muffled squeak of protest or questioning. After 250 years of American independence, this is where we are.
This past week has shown Trump at his most mind-blowingly corrupt—confident in the knowledge that America is now a land with few of the checks and balances supposedly put in place by the 1787 Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia.
And yet it is just possible that a few worms have begun to turn.
Let’s start with this week’s staggering act of corruption. Trump, as president, sued his own Internal Revenue Service (IRS) for an astonishing $10bn over the leak of his personal tax records. It was the ultimate art of the deal: Trump facing himself across the courtroom table. There could only be one winner.
And—surprise!—Trump won. Not in actual court—why risk a judge, even if he has many of those in his pocket? No, instead he reached a settlement with himself. The deal Trump thrashed out with Trump was to create a $1.8bn political slush fund, supposedly to compensate anyone who had been a victim of government “lawfare”.
Trump’s acting attorney general Todd Blanche wouldn’t rule out the possibility of 1,600 rioters at the US Capitol on 6th January 2021 receiving pay-outs. That could include those convicted of assaulting police officers. The fund will be administered by a panel which Trump will effectively control. The money was soon dubbed “stupid on stilts” and “payout for punks.”
Blanche, who obviously relies on Trump’s patronage to secure his position, went further by granting Trump and his family virtual immunity from any kind of investigation into his financial affairs. The United States—under President Trump—agrees that it is “FOREVER BARRED and PRECLUDED from prosecuting or pursuing” President Trump, his eldest sons or any of their businesses. The agreement covers matters “whether presently known or unknown” and cases that “have been or could have been asserted” by the government.
The document which Trump signed this week will prevent any cases against the Trumps by the IRS and other agencies or departments. That seems to mean that the Justice Department is also barred from ever charging the Trumps with other crimes.
Trump’s Supreme Court had already granted immunity for the president for any “official” actions while in office. He now has civil immunity. The law, as one observer commented this week, has become adapted to the man. A New York Times editorial was headlined. “There Has Never Been an Example of Presidential Corruption Like This.”
But this was just one story in a week of grotesqueries. The US media barely had the bandwidth to fully explore Trump’s revelation that his big beautiful ballroom is effectively the cherry on top of a massive six-storey underground bunker-cum-military complex with its own hospital and bomb and bio-defence shelters. He wants to add the estimated $1bn cost onto an immigrant enforcement bill.
Simultaneously—and by no means coincidentally—Trump has been whacking any Republicans who have shown less than total loyalty to him. Congressman Thomas Massie of Kentucky had questioned Trump’s policy on Iran and demanded the release of sensitive Epstein files. So Trump ended his career this week by endorsing a rival.
In Louisiana, Trump actively campaigned against Senator Bill Cassidy, who had voted to impeach the president over the January 6th riot. So Cassidy is now toast. The same fate befell the Georgia official who couldn’t “find” the 11,780 extra votes to overturn Biden’s 2020 victory in that state. And, in Texas, Senator Cornyn is doomed for being insufficiently loyal. Offering to rename a 1,800-mile highway “The Trump Interstate” was not enough to save his skin. Trump has endorsed a rival.
If it all feels a bit Tony Soprano, that’s because it is. “I don't know what’s with him,” Trump said this week of a GOP representative who voted to end the war in Iran. “He likes voting against Trump. You know what happens with that … doesn't work out well.”
But Trump knows that, come November’s midterms, the Republicans are almost certain to lose the House. So he has six months left in which to behave as lawlessly as he likes—and no-one’s getting in his way.
Or are they? It’s just possible that the president has gone too far this week and that the people he has contemptuously treated like voting fodder have had enough.
The thing about January 6th is that it was a terrifying attack on the very people Trump now needs. Multiple representatives thought they were about to die or be taken hostage. Some whispered final goodbyes to their loved ones; others quietly removed their congressional pins so they wouldn’t be targeted in the hallways by the rampaging mob.
So when Todd Blanche turned up at the Capitol on Thursday to drum up support for Trump’s $1.8bn slush fund, which could be used to compensate those convicted of violent crimes on January 6th, he, the acting attorney general, had a rough ride from Republicans. Blanche reportedly came in for withering questioning and criticism from incredulous lawmakers.
“So the nation’s top law enforcement official is asking for a slush fund to pay people who assault cops?” said Senator Mitch McConnell, the Republican senator of Kentucky. “Utterly stupid, morally wrong—take your pick.”
At the same time, Senate Republicans refused to hand over the money for the “ballroom” project, and House Republicans cancelled a vote on a resolution on the war in Iran (remember that?). GOP lawmakers are said to bitterly resent Trump’s mafia-style approach to disposing of his perceived enemies.
So, finally, the unthinkable happened. The Senate refused Trump his money. On Thursday, they closed up shop and went home.
A pattern is developing. Harvard fought rather than folded. The universities which moved quickly to appease Trump now look weak, isolated or permanently vulnerable to further demands. The elite law firms which defied Trump’s extortionate claims now bask in public approval, while the firms which struck deals with Trump look like shabby stooges.
As Trump becomes more unhinged and reckless, more people and players will discover their backbones. This week may have been the week defiance began to look stronger than accommodation. Trump’s spell may finally have been broken.
