Trump Viewed from the Border: High-Rolling Vulgarity, La Familia… and Not Much in Between

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Why does the candidate who pledges most vocally to secure our border show no sign in his personal life of guarding our cultural borders?

Donald Trump surged into serious political contention when, and only when, he began to call for enforcement of our southern border in no uncertain—and highly un-PC—terms.  Nothing else seems to have mattered after that.  Coarse comments about women, grade-school caliber expletives launched at opponents, non-answers to critical policy questions couched in a “you’re going to love… it’ll be the best” formula,… past and almost-present snuggle-ups with the Clintons and other ultra-left politicos, repeated endorsements of nanny-state solutions like public health care and confiscation of guns… creepily libidinous praises of his daughter, flippantly arrogant boasts about being able to shoot people with impunity, scarcely veiled threats aimed at unfavorable journalists… nothing matters as long as Trump retains the perception of being rock-solid against amnesty.  Even his incoherence on this one critical issue, a “touchback amnesty” that allows illegals to cut in the citizenship line after they have been expensively escorted back to Mexico, seems too abstruse to turn the rising tide.

Ann “I was Against Christie After I Was For Him” Coulter would wear a suicide vest for The Donald. Even my beloved Pat Buchanon seems tacitly on board. Matt Towery confided in a Townhall column this week that Trump is really quite civil off the stage (as if this would be somehow reassuring to those of us concerned about his judgment and reliability). Jack Kerwick posted later in the same space a ringing indictment of Ronald Reagan’s conservative credentials; and this, too, was apparently intended to prove that Trump isn’t half-bad. QED… kind of.

Trump is the face of some animus or other in our society: I’m not sure what it is, exactly, since I don’t understand what could make so many normally thoughtful people treat reason with aggressive, even threatening contempt.  But if I had to hazard a guess, I would reference the polling in South Carolina that found over two thirds of Trump supporters concerned above all else about Syrian refugees.  That figure appalled me.  Maybe because I’m so close to retirement and just waiting for all my savings to turn into Weimar Deutschmarks, the Syrians don’t quite break my top three. I definitely share a concern about phony refugeeism, at some level—about young, able-bodied males pouring into the West from all over the Arab world by hundreds of thousands (the very highest estimates of ISIS’s numbers never venture above 80,000, and seldom above half that) carrying Sharia law in their hearts and smartphones in their pockets.  Doesn’t add up.  And then, if one cries foul, one’s protest is just another proof that we mainstream Americans are un-Christian, racist rednecks because we haven’t agreed to overlook every scrap of objective evidence.  Yeah, that makes me mad, too.

But why do I resent the forcible annihilation of what little remains of Western culture through illegal immigration and fake refugeeism?  Isn’t religion part of it?  Who is closer to my views about decency and modesty: an ordinary Muslim who doesn’t want his daughter prissing around in a microscopic bikini during a keg party, or a cynical wastrel who made his millions (when not abusing eminent domain) by stirring strippers into casinos and who boasts in print about his adulterous affairs?

Isn’t gross ignorance of democratic institutions part of it?  Who is a greater threat to those institutions: an Iranian or Mexican who enters our country with thirty years’ experience of paternalistic rule and corruption, or a cutthroat entrepreneur who has successfully manipulated elected officials for decades?

Isn’t the leeching off of my hard-earned income part of it?  Who promises to add more to my tax burden in the future: an illegal immigrant whose kids get free education and who can have free care at a public ER, or a man-who-would-be-king with Obamamaniacal visions of utopia—only this time “it’ll be great; we’ll have all the right people”?

My wife and I were out of town for most of last weekend.  When we returned, I was too braindead to finish any of the paperwork that awaited me, and so I accompanied her to the local Walmart.  Late Sunday afternoon… and probably half of the people we passed were speaking Spanish.  I felt as though I were in another country—and, increasingly, I am.  Yeah, that makes me kind of mad.

But most of the people I saw were also man/woman couples, and many had brought their children.  I doubt that they were sympathetic, as a group, with gay marriage or abortion or plowing up small farms to make vast shopping malls.  I wish they understood the importance of the Second Amendment, and it vexes me that so many of them see yet more government as the solution to government abuses.  But they’ve had no chance to learn better.  Go to Amazon and search El Libro Negro del Comunismo—the Spanish title of one of the most damning chronicles of the communist nightmare to emerge from the last century.  Hardback copies start at close to a hundred bucks, paperback at over a thousand!  The explanation?  Obviously, these and similar books have systematically been bought up or otherwise taken out of circulation in the Hispanic world.  The detoxification of someone who has grown up in such a propagandistic pressure-cooker (like, say, Pope Francis) doesn’t happen over night.

If Donald Trump wins his party’s nomination and then the general election, he may just possibly belie his past and stand for decency, the rule of law, and limited government.  My own estimate of the chances puts them at virtually nil, because history teaches that elected representatives grow more coarse, lawless, and overweening on the intoxicant of power, not less so.  But perhaps Trump will prove to be the secular messiah (where have we heard that phrase over the last seven years?) that his supporters see in him.  I was a Trump supporter myself… for about a month.  Maybe all of my subsequent information will prove misleading.  I certainly hope so.

If not… then I’ll say this.  I would feel more comfortable with that Spanish-speaking crowd in Walmart than with a pack of my genetic brethren who applaud an unchivalrous lout, who shout down all opposition to him, and who swoon and squeal when he promises to fine-tune their lives for them.  As I write these closing words, William Gheen’s heroic labor for the Americans for Legal Immigration PAC is about to end for want of support; and Gheen recently disclosed that ALIPAC’s members favor Trump over Ted Cruz by almost two to one.  This doesn’t surprise me any longer.  After paying the organization what I could afford for years, I now find that many of its members are there to raise a ruckus but not to contribute a dime.  What kind of personal profile does such behavior fit?  Not that of people I would consider either good citizens or reliable friends.

Maybe the time for secession is closer than we think: maybe some of Mexico and some of the Southeast should form a new nation based on… the US Constitution.  Maybe Donald Trump will provide the final impetus that gets us there.  I would rather learn another language, personally, than have another egomaniacal despot at the helm whose decrees and whose boorishness bring our cultural and spiritual life even lower than it already is.

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