Exorcising America’s Demon(s)

Until U.S. Attorney General Merrick Garland appointed Jack Luman Smith special counsel, Donald Trump seemed unstoppable, despite mountains of incriminating evidence compiled by the bipartisan (only two Republicans joined) House Select Committee on the January 6th attack.

In his bid to win the White House again, Trump has operated like he’s untouchable, staging rallies, flaunting civil discourse, and stealing and mishandling secret U.S. documents on military preparedness, nuclear technology and more.

Could no one stop this man from destroying democracy?

Most certainly not Republican-elected officials who feared Trump’s MAGA base in the party and thus losing power. They use “whataboutism” to excuse away his alleged crimes. Social media and the airwaves crackled with anger and indignation that Trump would escape justice while MAGA supporters reacted with anger and indignation over perceived unfair treatment of their man.

Critics of Merrick Garland wondered whether the Department of Justice would ever investigate Trump for executing the January 6, 2021 attempted coup and violent insurrection by thousands of his supporters. They accused DOJ of fearing prosecution because of Trump’s mob-boss threats of “civil war,” if he is indicted.

With this backdrop, Smith, a relatively unknown prosecutor, arrived in Washington, D.C. in the 2022, somewhat like that of the exorcist priest Lankester Merrin in the 1973 horror film, “The Exorcist.” In fact, when Garland announced Smith’s appointment, the only photo of Smith the media seemed to have was of him in a priestly looking white-collared, black and purple robe that prosecutors in the International Criminal Court are required to wear. Smith had just finished a stint there chief prosecutor for war crimes committed in the 1999 Kosovo War.

The robe seemed to affect the former president. Just as the devil who possessed teenager Regan MacNeil screamed Merrin’s name upon his entering her Georgetown home, Trump used his Truth Social posts to scream Smith was a “deranged lunatic,” a “Trump Hater,” and a “psycho that shouldn’t be involved in any case having to do with ‘Justice.’”

Seems the devil draws the line at name calling.

In his role as special counsel, Smith is neither friend nor foe but an attorney for the federal government assigned to ensure that in our judicial system, as he says, “no one is above the law.”

I don’t know Jack Smith, but I’ve watched him speak at his two brief news conferences and read his indictments against Trump. I’m guessing his love of country, democracy and the rule of law eclipse any feeling he may have about the man he’s about to try in a courtroom, possibly as early as this fall.

Smith’s middle name sounds like “lumen” – a measure of visible light emitted from a source – and the charges he will argue are related to Trump’s January 6 coup attempt. The other federal case, stolen classified documents, will likely be tried next year.

Set aside the characters in this legal drama, the case against the defendant is simple, concise, and brilliant in its jurisprudence and execution. The specter of jail looms for Trump. And yet, similarities to a 1970s film about a couple of priests fighting a demon possessing a young girl resonate on the circus level, where Trump prefers to exist. He plays the role of victim, defender of the little people that he constantly lies to and fleeces following every indictment – four and counting – and at every rally. Alabama MAGAs gave him $1.2 million after his third arraignment because they believe when he tells them, “I’m being indicted for you.”

After these “Christ the Savior” allegories Trump spews, you almost expect Jack Smith – here in his role as exorcist priest Lankester Merrin – to start showering Trump with injunctions while loudly praying, “The rule of law compels you! The rule of law compels you!”

In reality, what Smith is doing is prosecuting Trump for his alleged crimes to undermine American democracy and to sell American security to foreign bidders.

Most Americans, exhausted by a man they fear can get elected and destroy democracy, hope Smith will win convictions and thus exorcise the body politics’ “demons.” But that’s not his role; that’s the individual voters’ role because there is no guarantee Trump will be convicted of anything, and if convicted, there’s no guarantee that he won’t get elected.

To stop Trump, who has stated his authoritarian anti-democratic plans to alter the nation forever if returned to office, vote against him. To stop candidates who oppose democracy, vote against them. To be sure, there are tens of millions of Trump supporters who will be voting for him. Some of them, unfortunately, actually believe he is fighting demons.

That’s the power every individual in a democracy possesses—the right to vote. There is no guarantee – even if Trump were to make a guarantee – that this sacred right would continue to exist if he is elected.

Remember, one of the charges for which he is about to stand trial is “conspiracy against the right to vote and to have one’s vote counted,” which is usurping the will of the people, that is, taking away your right to vote.

Also remember, that while we have the right to vote, only we the people can exorcise our political demons.

Defeated

In the mugshot seen around the world, the scowl on the 77-year-old face under a combed-over “strawberry blond” mane was intended to sow fear in those prosecuting him under federal and state laws.

Despite the fearsome mask, the four-time indicted Donald Trump showed fear and defeat, both of which seemed to weigh heavily in his body language as he ambled – slumped-shouldered – across the airport tarmac after getting booked in the Atlanta jail on Aug. 24.

This is no longer MAGA’s inevitable triumph who boasts of slaying imaginary enemies that are out to get him and thus them. This is a pathetic man long broken – probably since childhood –with a diminishing base of supporters who struggle to hang onto his lost cause.

Trump performs, even if all he does is play himself, but great actors are confident in themselves, highly imaginative, with sharp understanding of human behavior; you can’t tell how they actually feel when they perform, you just think you do.

Whatever mask he wears – bluster, braggadocio, arrogance, cockiness – Trump always lets us know how he feels, projecting his anger, fears, hurts, deviousness and lusts onto others.

A fortunate son of a New York City developer, Trump spent a life using wealth and privilege to attain wealth and power, a singular focus that deprived him of essential self-reflection.

We know Trump is transactional and angry, but we know little else about the man. I wonder if Trump even knows who he is, lost in his performance of the caricature “Trump.”

Loneliness must consume him.

Tellingly, at every one of his arraignments, none of his family or friends are there for him. From all the news footage and photos, the only people who are ever there are Secret Service agents assigned to him, his staff, some hangers on, and the media.

Despite calls to his supporters to turn out for massive protests at each of his arraignments, Trump has seen only small gatherings who are outnumbered by the media. After each indictment, the din of “unfair charges” from GOP politicians and conservative media becomes quieter.

At the Republican presidential debate hosted by Fox News the night before the Fulton County Jail arraignment, no one gave a full-throated roar of support for Trump. Two candidates on the stage denounced him and the one candidate that sought to emulate the former president, Vivek Ramaswamy, was constantly attacked by the others.

Trump is aware of this. In the fragmented way that he often speaks, he seemed to subconsciously allude to his lack of support on the tarmac when he told the media, “I’ve never had such support.”

If latest polls are any indication, Trump has already been defeated in his bid to become president again, even before voters go to the polls next November. He may win the GOP nomination, but a majority of the country believes he should stand trial for his attempted coup on Jan. 6, 2021 and his pilfering of secret documents.

He may voice defiance as juries of citizens are prepared to hear evidence and render verdicts, but this fourth indictment seems to have unsettled him. Trump no longer appears like the historic figure that he always tries to emulate, World War II Gen. George S. Patton.

Unsurprisingly, he does exhibit many character traits of the general, according to a 2016 article in Politico that compared the two men:

Twelfth Army Group commander Omar Bradley, who knew Patton well, described him as “colorful but impetuous, full of temper, bluster, inclined to treat the troops and subordinates as morons. He was primarily a showman. The show always seemed to come first.” Patton acted as though he didn’t care what people thought, but he “harbored a burning ambition for personal recognition,” wrote [Supreme Allied Commander Dwight] Eisenhower’s son John.

Since he doesn’t like to read, Trump’s understanding of the general is solely based on the 1970 film biopic, “Patton.”

Trump should watch the movie again and heed a quote from “Old Blood and Guts” himself that actor George C. Scott, who portrayed Patton, narrates in the final scene:

“For over a thousand years, Roman conquerors returning from the wars enjoyed the honor of triumph, a tumultuous parade. In the procession came trumpeters, musicians and strange animals from conquered territories, together with carts laden with treasure and captured armaments. The conqueror rode in a triumphal chariot, the dazed prisoners walking in chains before him. Sometimes his children robed in white stood with him in the chariot or rode the trace horses. A slave stood behind the conqueror holding a golden crown, and whispering in his ear a warning: that all glory is fleeting.”