In the scheme of things, it’s hard to explain why a conspiracy theory seems to be the greatest challenge to Donald Trump, who, since 2016, has weathered much worse, including accusations of aiding an insurrection.
There is a case to be made — however cynical — that politics over the last decade or so rewards unethical and even immoral behaviour. To be successful in democratic politics has always required bending some rules and norms, a degree of ruthlessness. But these were, earlier, in the best cases, a means to an end. Less charitably, politicians at the highest level at least had the decency to be hypocrites, to pay lip service to the norms of the day.
Not so, with the rise of the 21st-century populist whose emblem is US President Donald Trump. Just to put things in perspective, the real-estate mogul-turned-reality-TV-star-turned-politician has openly admitted to evading what taxes he could, famously remarked about “grabbing women”, lied, called opponents and critics names, and weaponised the highest office of the largest economic and military power in the world. He has also refused to acknowledge an electoral defeat, something fundamental to the peaceful transfer of power. There are many reasons for Trump’s seeming immunity, his popularity in the face of scandals and actions that would have brought many a greater leader down, not least his crass authenticity in the face of an opposition that is neither left nor liberal and struggling to make its case (https://indianexpress.com/article/opinion/columns/us-election-results-donald-trump-everyman-9656604/).
There has always been something of a mystery around how a blatantly instrumental politics has found such success: Trump, the billionaire, became a working-class favourite in the US. Similar questions have been asked of leaders around the world: In the UK, people voted for Brexit and Boris Johnson seemingly against their self-interest, and those who suffered the most from demonetisation and the Covid lockdown in India did not punish, electorally, the government that was in charge during both events.
The seeming invincibility of the right-wing populist, however, might be facing a challenge in the US. And in that, there may be a warning for other leaders across diverse polities.
Donald Trump, much to his chagrin, can’t shake off Jeffrey Epstein. Epstein, a wealthy man who is believed to have trafficked underage girls and rubbed shoulders with the rich and famous – politicians (including the Clintons), businessmen (including Bill Gates and Trump himself), scientists and celebs of various stripes – allegedly committed suicide in prison in 2019. For decades, he evaded the law and got sweetheart deals when he did face “justice”. His purported connections to intelligence services (however fanciful), the mystery around exactly how he got rich, and the brazenness with which he seemed to exist were ripe fodder for conspiracy theories. And Trump, despite his long association with Epstein, weaponised the case – especially after his suicide.
Releasing “the Epstein files” was a significant component of Trump’s campaign — a signal to his base that he would expose the hidden crimes of the elite. The claim was that powerful figures, protected by the establishment, were involved in child abuse and protected by a corrupt alliance between big business and politics.
Perhaps Trump shouldn’t be blamed for thinking that campaign rhetoric – a “jumla” if you will – will not be taken literally when he is in power. He thought a refusal to release the “files” or provide proof of a conspiracy would be forgotten, as so many of his transgressions have been. He was wrong.
The Epstein conspiracy tapped into something visceral, something that was indeed “post truth”. Trump, in the last decade as either a would-be president or in the White House, has framed the problems of America’s have-nots as a consequence of forces such as migration, the “liberal elite” and forces that champion globalisation. He has done so by relying on conspiracy theories and prejudice. With Epstein, people believed the conspiracy theories because they were believable. And for all his attempts at distraction, attacking his critics and general boorishness, the US President seems unable to convince his base that there is nothing in the files.
So, why is this time different? There is no easy, straight answer. But this much is certain: Trump is not the Pied Piper he thought he was. Even the most die-hard supporter can hold a leader to account. For those unused to such accountability, this can be a real challenge.
Trump, like so many others, thought he could throw ideas, conspiracies and prejudice at his supporters and then direct the mob – real and metaphorical – that he created. But with Epstein, perhaps, with accusations of child trafficking and the whiff of espionage, of being truly “anti-national” – the people Trump has used cynically are showing him that they are not to be led down any path, that their support is not unconditional.
Perhaps Trump will survive this ordeal. But the lesson is clear.
People may suffer a popular leader who promises them the world and delivers little for a while. But there’s always a breaking point, and no leader, party or ideology should assume that they have converted entire swathes of a country to unconditional loyalty.
aakash.joshi@expressindia.com
