We’re used to partisan disagreement about Cabinet officials. Democrats are never going to be that impressed by a Republican Cabinet (and vice versa), but as with so many things, the perception gap between Republicans and Democrats has become so vast, it’s as if they inhabit different universes.
Trump’s critics — and I am one — look at the lineup and see, in essence, a group of people that bears far more resemblance to a collection of North Korean generals than it does to a traditional U.S. Cabinet.
And for good reason. Trump’s Cabinet meetings often feature the members publicly showering the president with praise, sometimes in the most absurd terms.
Pam Bondi, the attorney general, said in one Cabinet meeting that Trump was “overwhelmingly elected by the biggest majority.” Marco Rubio, the secretary of state, said, “What you’re doing now I think is a great service to our country but ultimately to the world.”
Rubio is among the worst offenders. Before Trump’s rise, he developed a reputation as an independent strategic thinker, committed to America’s global leadership. And now he’s the caretaker of a shrinking State Department who has turned into Trump’s willing accomplice as Trump undermines U.S. credibility and destroys U.S. alliances.
But where Trump’s critics see a wannabe dictator and his toadies, Trump’s supporters see something else. They see a commander and his generals. They see warriors.
To understand why, it’s important to know exactly how the political right is defining strength, courage and gratitude.
First, let’s talk about strength and courage. MAGA mythology requires both of those virtues to support Trump. His supporters see virtually every significant American institution as opposed to his rise. The mainstream media, the universities, Hollywood: They’re all united in opposition to Trump.
As a consequence, supporting Trump is an act of defiance in and of itself.
When you add Trump’s legal woes to the mix, the acts of alleged courage grow only more profound. After all, to belong to Trump’s team is to risk prosecution — the “weaponization” of American justice.
Add that perception to the genuine relief that he survived two assassination attempts, and you can see that Trump’s supporters don’t view gratitude as just acceptable. It’s mandatory.
Trump is a singular figure. No one else in the Republican Party comes close to matching his influence and authority. In fact, I’ve never seen an American politician at any time match his influence and authority over the Republican base.
That reality means that we should expect this same dynamic to endure throughout Trump’s second term. His Cabinet will genuflect, his supporters will cheer and his opponents will roll their eyes in contempt.
But to describe the divide between Trump’s supporters and his critics isn’t to rationalize or justify his Cabinet’s sycophancy. The two competing positions are not equally valid. There is overwhelming evidence that Trump committed acts of misconduct that merited both impeachment and removal and criminal prosecution.
There is also overwhelming evidence that he’s not an economic or military genius, but instead often flies by the seat of his pants.
Despite each mistake and each successive scandal, the Cabinet members cheer. After all, if they want to be seen as strong, they have to surrender to Trump. That is their only path.