For a minute there, former President Donald Trump sounded different on Thursday night. “Whether you’ve supported me in the past or not, I hope you will support me in the future, because I will bring back the American Dream,” Trump told a sea of conservative believers at the Republican National Convention. “With great humility, I am asking you to be excited about the future of our country.”
The acceptance speech he delivered lacked the soaring phrasing of Ronald Reagan telling the RNC crowd in 1980 that “the time is now, my fellow Americans, to recapture our destiny, to take it into our own hands.” The overall tone of the prepared text distributed ahead of his speech was a far cry from his first acceptance speech eight years ago, let alone his inauguration address, later dubbed the “American Carnage” speech. It was a shift in line with the reported “new softness” he’d displayed since last week’s assassination attempt.
The facade of a new Trump evaporated quickly, just like the last several times we were promised a new Trump.
As with most things Trump, though, any shift away from his usual bombast was surface level — at best. The facade of a new Trump evaporated quickly, just like the last several times we were promised a new Trump. Even when he has managed to momentarily project a calmer persona, a state that lasted only minutes into an address that broke records as the longest acceptance speech ever, Trump remains substantively the same: impulsive, xenophobic and more than happy to go on the attack in exchange for the applause of a crowd.
In his remarks, Trump initially portrayed himself as a happy warrior, one fighting for all Americans, in sharp contrast to his usual polemics against Democrats. “Together, we will launch a new era of safety, prosperity and freedom for citizens of every race, religion, color and creed,” he intoned toward the beginning of his speech. “The discord and division in our society must be healed. We must heal it quickly. As Americans, we are bound together by a single fate and a shared destiny. We rise together. Or we fall apart.”
If you’d handed me that quote before Thursday night, I would have sooner guessed it came from President Joe Biden or almost any other political figure before I ever landed on Trump. In promising to be the “president for ALL of America, not half of America, because there is no victory in winning for half of America,” Trump played against type in a way that I hadn’t expected even having read the reporting that he’d torn up his original speech in the aftermath of the shooting.
But despite promising unity, his speech only grew Trumpier as it continued, as he leaned into his worst instincts, riffing to the crowd’s delight as he threw it red meat. Even in the prepared text, though, he was still disparaging of LGBTQ Americans when declaring “we will not have men playing in women’s sports.” It was still filled with lies about a supposed surge in crime fueled by migrants sneaking across the border. It still framed the criminal cases against him as partisan witch hunts from Democrats, rather than the results of his own actions. It was still packed with pie crust promises, easily made and easily broken, that “incomes will skyrocket, inflation will vanish, jobs will come roaring back, and the middle class will prosper like never before.”








