The clock was ticking for Ohio Lt. Gov. Jon Husted on Monday morning. That evening, Iowa caucusgoers would almost certainly deliver a win for former President Donald Trump. Husted hadn’t made an endorsement in the primary; perhaps his friendship with Vivek Ramaswamy gave him pause. Not that any Iowans were waiting to hear whom Husted was backing before making their final choice. But he is preparing to run for governor in two years, and clearly he felt the urgency of making his endorsement before any votes were cast. So with only hours to spare, he presented his endorsement of Trump.
He wasn’t the only GOP politician to scramble under the wire. Sen. Marco Rubio of Florida clashed bitterly with Trump when they both ran for president in 2016. Rubio called Trump “a con artist,” Trump called him “Liddle Marco.” On Sunday, Rubio announced that he too was endorsing Trump. If Rubio regretted failing to repay Nikki Haley for endorsing him eight years ago, he didn’t say.
The Trump campaign has made clear that it is watching not only who endorses him, but also when.
Rubio’s endorsement wasn’t even the most humiliating for the person bending the knee; that award must go to House Majority Whip Tom Emmer of Minnesota, a member of the House Republican leadership. In last fall’s race to succeed Kevin McCarthy as speaker, Emmer was poised to be the consensus Republican pick — until Trump blasted him as a “Globalist RINO” on social media. “He’s done. It’s over. I killed him,” Trump bragged, and Emmer quickly dropped out of the race. Yet, just after New Year’s, Emmer delivered Trump his endorsement. (A dishonorable mention must go to Sen. Ted Cruz, R-Tx., who endorsed Trump Tuesday night — again backing the man who attacked his father and his wife.)
This support isn’t happening solely on the initiative of these sniveling supplicants. The Trump campaign has made clear that it is watching not only who endorses him, but also when, with more points given to those who did so before Iowa began the voting. Trump himself is reportedly closely involved with rounding up support, and has deputized some of his most enthusiastic lickspittles, like Rep. Elise Stefanik of New York, to pressure their colleagues to publicly back Trump.
It has paid off: At last count, Trump had the endorsement of 169 members of the House, compared to 17 for Ron DeSantis and six for Haley; in the Senate, the numbers are 19, zero and zero. He’s also been endorsed by former 2024 rivals Ramaswamy and North Dakota Gov. Doug Burgum. Sen. Tim Scott of South Carolina is reportedly mulling whether to back Trump before that state’s primary.
For any politician, gathering endorsements has a practical purpose. The more widespread the backing, the stronger impression that a party stands behind a candidate, and the easier it is for that candidate to win that party’s nomination (though in this case, Trump’s victory hardly seems in much doubt). And, of course, endorsements are always a political calculation on the part of the endorsers. But usually an endorsement stems from some sort of mutual relationship: a real friendship, an ideological alliance, or at least favors done or promised by each side.
Trump’s request is less “Why don’t we help each other?” and more “Nice career you’ve got there — shame if something happened to it.” He is obsessed with “loyalty,” though he doesn’t use that word in the way you or I would: a commitment to support those we care about when they need us. For Trump, loyalty means not just that you won’t turn against him, but also that you will very publicly proclaim his greatness, in ways that make him look large and you look small. The more abject and pathetic your show of fealty, the better — you prove yourself to him by demonstrating that you have no dignity or self-respect.
It’s hard to think of a president who received less loyalty from those who worked for him.
So consumed with loyalty is Trump that he once told an interviewer that “flipping” — in which a low-level hoodlum testifies against the boss of the criminal enterprise that employs him — “almost ought to be illegal.” You can see why he would be concerned, not only because of the volume of criminal activity he has allegedly been involved with, but also because so many of his underlings already have turned on him: publicly denouncing him, writing tell-all memoirs, and making clear that they consider their former boss either a moron or a thug. It’s hard to think of a president who received less loyalty from those who worked for him.
But perhaps the list of turncoats is so long because Trump doesn’t realize loyalty is a two-way street. As far as he’s concerned, loyalty only runs one direction: pledge your fealty to Trump, but don’t expect the same from him. He’ll discard you the moment it serves his interests. For politicians, especially those with ambitions for higher office (or just staying in the office they hold), the danger of not endorsing Trump is clear: the man holds a grudge. He might support a primary run against you in a future election, or denounce you on social media, either of which likely means excommunication from MAGA-land (not to mention death threats from his unhinged supporters). But every politician has to decide whether they will submit to Trump’s strong-arm tactics, or attempt to preserve their self-respect. For most, the choice is submission. It’s easy to tell the sincere Trump cultists from the ones offering their endorsements only out of fear. No doubt the latter tell themselves that they bow to Trump only to preserve their ability to accomplish all kinds of good things in the future, for their constituents and their country. Maybe they will, and it will be worth sacrificing their dignity. Or maybe they’re just cowards.
Paul Waldman is a journalist and author focused on politics and culture. 
