The great Trump crime story moves to Florida
“Lock him up! Lock him up!”
The chant was familiar, the themes long-established. This is the continuing Marvel multiverse storyline that doesn’t involve spidery superheroes and octopus villains. Instead, we have the MAGA faithful arriving at the Trump National Golf Club in Bedminster to hear the former president’s first speech since being indicted on 37 charges around the alleged mishandling of classified government documents, including nuclear secrets. It’s remarkable how far we’ve come yet how little they or he have changed; their storyline is as overly familiar as a Captain America movie in which justice is never served, merely delayed until the inevitable sequel.
There was a time when the MAGA faithful demanded the incarceration of Hilary Clinton, who was considered the great menace to America due to her [checks notes] role in a Satanic paedophile ring operating out of the Comet Ping Pong pizzeria in Washington DC. What they meant was that she stood in the way of Trump’s election in 2016. Now Trump focuses his ire on what he calls the “most corrupt president in the history of the United States” (Richard Nixon breathes a sulphurous sigh of relief) and tries to deflect from his troubles by creating a monster named “The Biden Crime Family”. Biden as some latter-day Kingpin might be stretching the credibility somewhat but so much of what we saw on Tuesday and what we’ll see in the coming months is pure pantomime.
At the heart of it are serious criminal charges that could result in prolonged jail time. Four-hundred years was mentioned in a fundraiser sent out to supporters yesterday and Trump referred to it again in his speech, but like so much of what we’re seeing, everything is escalated for maximum effect, just as the words “Trump” and “America” are used interchangeably, along with “faith”, “justice” and “truth”.
After leaving the Miami courthouse, Trump visited the Versailles Restaurant in Little Havana where two Cuban-American Christian and Jewish faith leaders prayed over him, as well as prayed to ensure that communism would find no place in the United States. It’s an example of how complicated and yet simple some of this is: faceted in so many ways but all reflecting a simple belief in Trump’s innocence. The sobering reality is that we’re in unknown territory. We know how the law should work; we’ve seen how it does work. Yet these charges have never been levelled against a former president and, even if they had, no former president is as good as leaning back on the ropes and taking body blows. His tactic is to spoil the fight, make outlandish claims, and escalate everything so this is no longer about one man but “America”.
What’s now happening in Florida is not quite law but not quite politics. It is a psychodrama that hasn’t been designed that way but emerges from a series of events that impart their own bias on proceedings. As if by the natural selection of previous indictments and impeachments, the system has chosen a special counsel singularly designed to go after Trump. Jack Smith was no accidental appointment. He is ascetic, rarely appears before cameras, and doesn’t crave publicity, but that in itself creates a media profile. Reporting relayed from inside the courtroom said that Smith didn’t take his eyes from Trump, maintaining this caricature of the apex predator of special counsels with a singular obsession for getting a conviction.
That same system also ensured that the judge, Aileen Cannon, was on hand when the time came. Again, it was not quite by design but not wholly accidental that the case landed on the docket of a Trump appointee. She also has prior history with the case, having ruled in favour of Trump (wrongly, it turned out, later to be censured by a higher court) on the matter of a so-called “special master” to review the classified material.
Cannon is straight from the Trump playbook: young and ambitious, an alumnus of the Federalist Society, with just a hint of glamour common among so many Trump appointees. Some doubt she can stay on the case, but the prevailing logic is that there’s nothing to alter that unless she recuses herself, considered unlikely. Yesterday’s hearing wasn’t before Cannon but Magistrate Judge Jonathan Goodman, but the looming battle is going to be defined by Cannon’s decisions. It is unlikely to leave us with a reassuring sense of American justice.
Even holding these doubts means that Trump has already won some small victory. It’s classic Trump territory, that wriggle space where he functions best (note to self: trademark the name “The Wriggler” and pitch it to Marvel). Not for him the clear clean waters when he can stir up silt at the edges. And really, what makes this case so fascinating is that it is impossible to call. The evidence against the former president seems damning, yet any guilty verdict will need to be unanimous, based on a jury selected from a pool of some of the fiercest MAGA voters. Between now and then will be countless challenges, attempts to spin the story, sway the jury, and convince the American public that their legal system is broken.
Whatever the outcome: one side or the other will cry foul and the story will not end. No matter how much protestors shout, it’s not clear that anybody is going to be locked up anytime soon.
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