After
all the speculation about whom he would choose,
Donald
Trump selected
J. D. Vance, the junior senator of Ohio, as his
running mate in the presidential race. A former
“public
affairs”
marine-turned-venture-capitalist, Vance rose
to fame in 2016 with the publication of Hillbilly
Elegy,
an engaging narrative that detailed his
challenging and adversarial upbringing in
poverty-stricken southwestern Ohio and his later
experiences at Yale law school. The book was
touted as a modern day Horatio Alger story and
became a national bestseller and the subject of
the Ron Howard-directed 2020
film starring
Glenn Close and Amy Adams. In fact, I assigned
the book in one of my graduate seminars.
What
a difference a few years can seem to make! Not
that long ago, Vance was a vehement and
outspoken Trump critic, deriding him
as “America’s Hitler” and “a total fraud.” But
he suddenly and abruptly embraced the former
president when he ran for a Senate seat in 2022,
eventually securing Trump’s support in a heavily
crowded Republican primary. Indeed, both men
acknowledged that they had not previously been
politically fond of one another. “He’s the guy
that said some bad shit about me,” Trump said at
a rally in 2022. “If I went by that standard, I
don’t think I would have ever endorsed anybody
in the country.” Vance echoed similar
sentiments, telling audience members, “The
president is right. I wasn’t always nice, but
the simple fact is, he’s the best president of
my lifetime, and he revealed the corruption in
this country like nobody else.”
The selection of Vance delighted
some Republicans, disappointed others, and
outright repelled a few.
Presidents
and vice presidents have frequently been odd
pairings often brought together in an effort to
unify diverse fragments within the party. John
Kennedy selected Lyndon Johnson with the aim of
assuaging southern Democrats who were wary of
his Roman Catholicism and “possible allegiance”
to the Vatican. Ronald Reagan chose George H. W.
Bush, the former head of the CIA, in an attempt
to win over centrist Republicans leery of Reagan
voters’ far-right values. Barack
Obama selected
Joe
Biden in
2008 to balance the ticket racially and reassure
White voters that he’d have a veteran, centrist,
White male political leader with blue-collar
bona fides at his side. The thrice married,
twice impeached, convicted felon and adulterer
Donald Trump recruited Mike Pence to address
devout White evangelicals’ apprehensions over
his moral failings and deficiencies. Most
recently, Joe Biden selected a woman of color as
his running mate to highlight and acknowledge
the vital importance of women and people of
color to the Democratic political base.
Trump had a real opportunity to
make a more traditional choice. For a number of
reasons, Senator Marc Rubio (R-FL) would have
been a strong pick. As a Latino, he would have
been the first non-White person on a Republican
ticket and would possibly have appealed to
Latinos who tend to be receptive to culturally
conservative messages and may have cut into
support from that segment of the Democratic
coalition. The more centrist Republicans wanted
Trump to assuage the apprehensions of more
moderate voters who had backed Nikki Haley over
Trump’s bombast and division. He failed to
deliver to both groups.
Rather
than pretend to consider pacifying the concerns
of his party’s more centrist, less rabid
elements, Donald
Trump selected
J.
D. Vance as
his running mate to send a clear and undeniable
message that Republicans are waging a culture
war over this nation’s identity. In choosing the
Ohio senator, the former U.S. president has selected and
elevated one of his major proponents whose
qualification for national leadership is
aggressively espousing the fears and resentments
of White people frantically unsettled with the
nation’s changing racial demographics. For
example, in 2019, Vance told the National
Conservatism Conference,
“Our people aren’t having enough children to
replace themselves. That should bother us.”
Although he did not specifically define “us” or
“our people,” and he did not elaborate what he
meant by “replace,” it does not take a rocket
scientist to realize that he did not
conveniently employ words by sheer coincidence
or accident. He knew exactly what he was saying
and doing.
Racial
matters aside, Vance also prolifically
criticizes women. He enthusiastically supports a
national
abortion ban,
opposes rape and incest exceptions - he calls
rape “an inconvenience” - and insists that
abortions should not be allowed in such
circumstances because “two wrongs don’t make a
right.” Yes, you read that correctly! He opposes
no-fault divorce,
which allows women to depart troubled marriages
without having to prove abuse in court. Notably,
Vance has a searing contempt for childless
adults, particularly women, blaming the
“childless left” as responsible for many of
society’s political and cultural problems. More
incredulously, Vance has proposed extending
extra votes to people with children to dilute
the political representation of those without
them. By the way, he has referred to women
without children as “childless
cat ladies.”
Talk about politics of the surreal and absurd!
Even more disturbing about J. D.
Vance is that he, like Trump, harbors no qualms
about ruthlessly dismantling the delicate social
fabric that supports the nation. Most
alarmingly, he stated that if he had been vice
president on January 6, 2021, he would have
adhered to Trump’s request and blocked electors
from states that voted for Biden. Furthermore,
he has raised money for insurrectionists who
tried to overthrow the government and sought to
prohibit the ratification of an election in
which all fifty governors - Republican and
Democratic alike - certified results that showed
Biden won the presidency. Does this sound like
someone who believes in law and order and due
process? Is there anything J. D. Vance sincerely
believes?
Many people, including myself,
have lately been asking this question. The
answers appear to be blind ambition,
self-advancement, and power.
|
|