By BRET STEPHENS
A joke in Milan Kundera’s novel “The Book of
Laughter and Forgetting” goes like this: “In Wenceslaus Square, in Prague, a
guy is throwing up. Another guy comes up to him, pulls a long face, shakes his
head and says: ‘I know just what you mean.’ ”
The joke is supposed to be about life in Czechoslovakia
under communism, circa 1977. It conveys exactly what I feel about the moral and
mental state of the Republican Party, circa 2016.
Last week, Donald Trump delivered
his big foreign-policy speech, built around the theme of “America First.” The
term seems to have been planted in his brain by New York Timesreporter David
Sanger, who
asked the Republican front-runner in late March whether it was fair to sum up
his foreign policy as “something of an ‘America First’ kind of approach.”
Trump: “Correct, okay? That’s fine.”
Sanger: “Okay? Am I describing this correctly here?”
Trump: “I’ll tell you—you’re getting close. . . . I’m not
an isolationist, but I am ‘America First.’ So I like the expression. I’m
‘America First.’ ”
Did Mr. Trump know anything about the history of the
America First Committee before he seized on the phrase? Did anyone in his inner
circle advise him that it might be unwise to associate himself with a movement
whose principal aim was to prevent the United States from helping Winston
Churchill fight
the Nazis during the Battle of the Atlantic? Once he learned of it—assuming he
did—was he at least privately embarrassed? Or was he that much more pleased
with himself?
With Mr. Trump it’s hard to say: He has a way of blurring
the line between ignorance and provocation, using one as an alibi when he’s
accused of the other. Is he Rodney Dangerfield, the
lovable American everyman pleading for a bit of respect? Or is he Lenny
Bruce, poking
his middle finger in the eye of respectable opinion?
Whichever way, the conclusion isn’t flattering. Either
Mr. Trump stumbled upon his worldview through a dense fog of historical
ignorance. Or he is seriously attempting to resurrect the most disastrous and
discredited strain of American foreign policy for a new generation of American
ignoramuses.
And now he’s about to become the presumptive Republican
presidential nominee, assuming a win in Tuesday’s Indiana primary.
It’s true that Mr. Trump benefits from having as his main
opponent Ted Cruz, the
man recently described by former House Speaker John Boehner as
“Lucifer in the flesh.” That’s about right, assuming Lucifer is the fellow who
sows discord where harmony once reigned.
In 2014, the “Republican establishment,” as it is now
derisively known, succeeded in securing its largest ever majority in the House
since 1928. It won nine seats in the Senate and regained the majority for the
first time in eight years. The GOP also took control of 31 governorships, with
historic gains in state legislatures.
These were significant political achievements, which only
awaited a reasonably serious presidential candidate to lead to a sweeping
Republican restoration.
Instead, Mr. Cruz used the moment to attempt a party coup
by treating every tactical or parliamentary difference of opinion as a test of
ideological purity. The party turned on its own leaders, like the much-vilified
Mr. Boehner. Then it turned on its (classically) liberal ideas, like free trade
and sensible immigration policy.
And now it’s America First time again—the inevitable
outcome of the GOP’s descent into populism.
Mr. Cruz, who used to be fond of calling Mr. Trump “my
friend Donald” when it seemed opportune, now presents himself as the only man
standing between his nemesis and the nomination. But Mr. Cruz’s trashing of his
fellow Republicans hastened the arrival of the ultimate party-crasher.
Arsonists who set fire to their neighborhood run the risk of burning their own
house down.
And then there is the GOP rank-and-file. It is supposed
to be sinful for conservative columnists to blame Republican voters for making
disastrous choices, at least without the obligatory nods to their patriotism
and pain.
But if Democrats don’t get a moral pass for bringing Bernie
Sanders this
far in the race, Republicans shouldn’t get one for bringing Mr. Trump to the
cusp of the nomination. The point of democracy isn’t freedom. It’s political
accountability. That goes for elected officials—and for the ones who elect
them.
The “white working classes” that are said to form the
core of Mr. Trump’s support deserve better than to be patronized with
references to their “anger.” They deserve to hear an argument about the
disaster they are about to impose on their party, their country and their own
economic interests.
A Trump nomination will not destroy the GOP, any more
than George
McGovern’s nomination destroyed the Democrats. But it all but guarantees
another Clinton presidency. How should that make you feel? Note the Kundera
punchline atop this column.
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Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia in 1968
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Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia in 1968