It Was All a Lie - Book Summary
How the Republican Party Became Donald Trump
In this episode of 20 Minute Books, we delve into Stuart Stevens' revelatory examination, "It Was All a Lie". Published in 2020, this book offers an insider's view into the dynamics of the Republican party, chronicling how its leaders, in their pursuit of power, have forsaken their purported values to support Donald Trump.
Stuart Stevens, the book's author, is a respected figure in the political arena. He is a former Republican political consultant with a remarkable track record, having contributed to numerous campaigns including four presidential races. Currently, Stevens is a crucial member of The Lincoln Project, a political action committee primarily comprised of current or former Republicans, with its mission centered on preventing the reelection of Donald Trump.
The insights and revelations in "It Was All a Lie" will resonate deeply with those who find themselves disillusioned by the Trump presidency. If you appreciate biting wit artfully intertwined with political narrative, or if you're a political aficionado eager to understand the inner workings of American politics, this episode is especially for you. Join us as we explore Stuart Stevens' illuminating account of a party's shift in values and the consequential impact on American politics.
Uncover a Republican insider's perspective on Trump's presidency.
Traditionally, the Republican Party has been known for its emphasis on character, personal accountability, fiscal sensibility, and a welcoming attitude towards immigrants. However, author Stuart Stevens presents a stark revelation – these traits were nothing but illusions.
Stevens himself was an accomplice in weaving this mirage. As a seasoned political consultant, he aided various Republican campaigns, which included four presidential runs. Now, however, he admits his folly and takes responsibility for his role in shaping today's version of the Republican Party, which he perceives as a party that has lost its sanity.
Stevens paints a clear picture of Donald Trump as the inevitable result of the Republican Party's long-standing undertones of racism, aggression, and self-deception. As we dive into the pages of this narrative, we'll reveal how the party arrived at this crossroad. Additionally, we'll explore Stevens' assertion that the Republican Party's endorsement of Trump has signaled the party's demise.
Throughout this exploration, we'll uncover
- the direct link between Ronald Reagan and Donald Trump’s racially charged speeches;
- the reasons why Republicans quickly dismissed their commitment to diversity when Trump entered the political scene; and
- the 1987 decision that gave birth to Fox News.
Ronald Reagan: The originator of Trump's racially implicit messaging?
The appeal that Trump has with certain white voters, eliciting their basest, racially prejudiced sentiments, is not a novel tactic in Republican politics. What many Republicans regard as Trump's distinct approach — his white nationalist political leanings — is in fact deeply embedded within the party's roots. In an unexpected twist, one of the primary forerunners of Trump's racial rhetoric is none other than Ronald Reagan, a figure many Republicans glorify as the paragon of their party's ideals. But Reagan's legacy isn't as flawless as some might believe.
Our main takeaway? Ronald Reagan, the Republican Party's golden boy, actually laid the foundation for Trump's racially coded language.
Many Republicans laud Ronald Reagan as the greatest president since Abraham Lincoln. Yet, an often overlooked or consciously ignored aspect of Reagan's legacy is his racial politics, particularly his utilization of race as a powerful tool to win over right-leaning Democrats. During the lead-up to his presidency, Reagan frequently spun narratives about African American "welfare queens" exploiting the government system. This dog whistle — a covert, racially charged message that resonates with racially prejudiced individuals, while going unnoticed by others — successfully roused many white voters to endorse Reagan.
In 1980, while on the campaign trail, Reagan delivered a speech in Mississippi's Neshoba County — a location infamous for the brutal murder of three civil rights volunteers in 1964. Remarkably, Reagan didn't mention the murders to his predominantly white audience, and instead championed the importance of states' rights. Although not overtly racist, his promotion of states' rights in Mississippi — a state that leveraged these rights to oppose integration for as long as possible — was a calculated, racially charged appeal to the white Mississippi voters.
Reagan's refined prejudice acts as a bridge to Trump's overt white nationalism. Nearly four decades after Reagan's speech in Neshoba County, Trump addressed a largely white crowd in Alabama, a state with its own tumultuous history of civil rights resistance. In his speech, Trump decried NFL players who kneeled during the national anthem to protest police brutality against unarmed Black men, calling it a "total disrespect of our heritage." It's not challenging to infer the group he was referring to with the term 'our.'
In the subsequent section, we’ll probe deeper into the nature of Trump's racial politics, which according to Stevens, isn’t an anomaly but rather an integral part of the modern Republican Party.
Backing Trump: The Republicans' open embrace of white resentment.
While African American voters have traditionally leaned Democratic, there was once a time when Republicans managed to garner a significant portion of the African American vote. Back in 1964, for instance, Republican presidential candidates could anticipate receiving nearly 40% of the Black vote.
That epoch has long passed. By 2016, only a meager 3% of African Americans identified as Republicans, due predominantly to the perception that Republican policies offered little to no benefits for Black voters. As America’s demographic composition evolved, the Republicans' failure to attract voters of color was one of the key factors resulting in their dwindling popularity — until Trump came along.
With Trump's election, Republicans were given free rein to reveal the true colors of their party. And the color they presented was unmistakably white.
Here's the essential insight: When they rallied behind Trump, Republicans blatantly confirmed that theirs is a party fueled by white resentment.
As we previously discovered, Reagan skillfully utilized racist appeals to mobilize white voters. However, the inception of this strategy can actually be traced back to the 1960s with Richard Nixon and his political adviser Pat Buchanan.
The outcome of a party exclusively focusing on white voters for decades while consciously sidelining everyone else is glaringly obvious. The Republican Party has transformed into a predominantly white party, desperately clinging to a system steeped in racial bias that favors them.
This not only implies covert, racially coded language such as that featured in Trump's Alabama speech, but also concerted efforts to suppress the votes of the young, the economically disadvantaged, and people of color. These Republican initiatives have proven remarkably successful. In 2016, African American voter turnout dropped for the first time in two decades. In Wisconsin, Black voting rates dramatically fell from 78% in 2012 to less than 50% in 2016, largely attributed to an eleventh-hour restrictive voter ID law.
Moreover, Republican legislators are staunchly opposed to automatic voter registration at age 18. The reason? Young voters tend to be poorer and nonwhite — demographic categories less likely to vote Republican.
Post Mitt Romney's defeat to Barack Obama in 2012, the Republican National Committee expressed concern over the necessity to expand its voter base to ensure its survival. However, they perceived diversity as a mere political expediency. When Trump triumphed, the Republican establishment seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, believing they could achieve victory without the votes of people of color and thus, could abandon any pretense of caring for them.
But race is not the sole issue where the contemporary Republican Party has exhibited dishonesty and insincerity. As we delve further into this narrative, we'll expose just how deep the rabbit hole goes.
Contrary to their proclamations, the Republicans and Christian right were never truly about family values.
Commentators frequently voice disbelief at how the Republican Party — popularly touted as the party of family values — could endorse someone like Donald Trump, a man with five children from three wives who's made crude sexual remarks about his own daughter. But Trump doesn't signify a lowering of standards by Republicans. Rather, his ascendance underscores how superficial their regard for these values was to begin with. Family values were never a true priority for Republicans; they were simply a convenient tool to chastise others.
The manner in which Republicans deploy family values essentially represents a politicization of conservative Christianity. The Christian right seeks to persuade American voters that it serves as the political embodiment of Jesus, resurrected to liberate America from its sins. In reality, it's more akin to a special interest group for white America. The conversion of Christianity into a right-wing ideological force is more about acquiring power than about adherence to the teachings of Jesus.
Here's the pivotal point: Contrary to their public affirmations, Republicans and the Christian right have never genuinely upheld family values.
Trump merely continues the tradition of charismatic figures with enormous evangelical followings who have deceived the public. Many of these figures conduct themselves in stark contrast to the principles they publicly espouse. Trump bears striking resemblance to the stereotypical white megachurch pastor, both being notorious for their lies, extramarital affairs, and a luxurious lifestyle that far outstrips their means. Their followers claim to value authenticity, but their revered leaders are renowned for their conspicuous artifice — be it an unfathomable hairdo or a peculiarly tinted complexion.
Several of Trump's evangelical supporters propagate the notion that Trump's electoral success was divinely ordained. Stevens considers this idea amusing. If God indeed wanted Trump to occupy the presidential office, one would think God would have ensured Trump's victory in the popular vote, possibly without requiring Russian assistance.
Following Trump's election, many of his evangelical supporters maintained that he deserved the opportunity to mature into the presidential role. The assumption was that setting foot in the Oval Office would imbue him with a solemnity he had never displayed before. As of 2020, maintaining such pretense has become untenable, particularly in the light of the revelation that Trump, as president, paid hush money to a porn actress with whom he had had an affair ten days after the birth of his youngest son.
While it may be uncomfortable, there's some value in observing evangelical pastors urging their congregations to rally behind the least religious president in US history. Misogyny, deception, and hypocrisy have always pervaded the religious right. Now, they've been exposed for all to see.
The endorsement of Donald Trump reveals Republicans' indifference towards fiscal responsibility.
Among the reasons cited by Republicans for backing Trump, first as a candidate and later as their president, was his apparent business acumen and investment prowess. Stevens suggests they were either deceived or self-deluded. As a 2019 New York Times report outlined, Trump, over a single decade, managed to accumulate more losses than any other American, doubling the losses in certain years.
The Republican party, with its history of deceiving the American public, ought to have discerned that Trump was hoodwinking them. Much like Trump, the Republican party purports to understand the need for efficient government operation but is, in essence, a mirror image of Trump: debt-ridden and a peddler of false promises.
The takeaway is this: The Republican's endorsement of Donald Trump exposes their lack of concern for fiscal responsibility.
To comprehend why Stevens believes Republicans never truly cared about fiscal responsibility, one need only look at the case of Bill Clinton. His administration represents the pinnacle of modern-day economic success. Clinton remains the only recent president to have successfully balanced the budget, even generating the first budget surplus since 1969. Yet he encountered vehement opposition from Republicans, with not a single one voting in favor of his 1993 budget proposal. As a result, Stevens, along with other political consultants in Washington, produced sensationalist attack ads warning of imminent economic ruin if the budget proposal wasn't rolled back.
However, the economy didn't implode. On the contrary, Clinton's financial plan initiated one of the most prosperous eras in recent history. Yet, Clinton faced persistent resistance from his Republican legislative counterparts and remains a target of Republican disapproval.
Republicans habitually denounce unrestrained federal spending. However, many Republican officials are often reluctant to trim budgets, not due to a steadfast commitment to fiscal prudence, but because of the potential political fallout. For instance, each dollar paid in federal taxes by Mississippi residents — Stevens' home state — returns just over three dollars from the government. If Mississippi's predominantly Republican representatives were to slash the federal budget, the consequences would be felt acutely by their constituents, who could likely blame their elected officials. This scenario holds true for other predominantly rural, Republican states, like West Virginia.
Moreover, consider what has occurred during Trump's tenure. The federal debt surged to unprecedented levels — 2 trillion dollars in two years — when, for the first time since 2007, Republicans controlled all three branches of government.
Despite this, the Republican establishment continues to stand unwaveringly by Trump.
The culture of deceit among Republicans receives a boost in the era of Trump.
If there's one thing that the era of Trump has brought to the forefront, it's a dismissal of truth. Trump's distortions might stand out in the annals of contemporary politics, but it would be mistaken to attribute the culture of deceit in the Republican party solely to him.
Indeed, the Republican machinery of misinformation had been steadily churning long before Trump's arrival in the political arena. Over the years, supposed conservatives have sought to embed their own subculture within mainstream America, a process that involves a systematic warping of the truth. They have consistently tested how much truth they can suppress without causing a complete social meltdown. Stevens opines that their endorsement of Trump represents a crossing of that threshold.
The central idea is this: The Trump presidency is not the genesis, but rather, the intensification of the enduring culture of deceit in the Republican party.
At the heart of this Republican culture of deceit lies Fox News. The landscape of cable news wasn't always tainted like this. However, with the cease of enforcement of the fairness doctrine by the Federal Communications Commission in 1987 — a mandate that broadcasters cover matters of public significance in a balanced manner — conservative media got a massive boost, eventually blossoming into a billion-dollar industry. The need to adhere to facts or accuracy was no longer a constraint for conservative journalism.
Fox News portrays itself as a beacon of honesty and balance. But its approach to persuasion is nuanced and cunning. As Fox projects a worldview divergent from the majority, its commentators need to insist that the rest of the world is simply misinformed.
Unfettered by the necessity to present facts, conservative journalists focus on feelings. Consider Trump and the so-called 'birthers' who harbored a deep-seated "feeling" that Barack Hussein Obama, a Black man with an ostensibly foreign name, couldn't possibly be a true American. Despite irrefutable evidence, such as hospital records that attested otherwise, they stubbornly clung on to their racially and ethnically prejudiced narrative.
The brazen falsehoods espoused by Trump during his presidency mark the inevitable climax of this persistent culture of deceit among Republicans. One incident appears to be straight out of the pages of George Orwell's '1984'. Prior to his visit to the UK, Trump, on tape, referred to Meghan Markle as "nasty" upon hearing about her comments during his campaign. Subsequently, he tweeted, "I never called Meghan Markle 'nasty.' Made up by the Fake News Media." By resorting to the phrase "fake news", Republicans have a ready-made denial for anything that contradicts their narrative.
Republicans' political strategy capitalizes on the fear of change.
It's a well-known fact that change can be unnerving. The Republican party has strategically harnessed this fear of change, both among voters and representatives alike.
America's rapidly evolving landscape has provided ample fodder for Republican exploitation. Currently, over 44 million Americans were born outside the United States — the highest proportion since 1910. Such a swift demographic shift has caused some Americans to feel insecure and fearful. Trump, during his presidential campaign, fanned these fears, berating immigrants and playing to white Americans' anxieties.
However, it's not just Trump. The current leadership of the Republican Party has mastered the art of using fear to coerce sensible people into adopting unreasonable stances.
The main idea is this: The Republicans' political strategy thrives on the propagation and sustenance of fear.
Notably, the tactics of Republican politicians to disseminate fear among their electorate is well-documented. But conservative special interest groups also instill fear in Republican representatives, effectively preventing them from voicing nuanced viewpoints that deviate from the increasingly radical party line.
A prime example is the National Rifle Association (NRA). Over the span of just a few decades, it transitioned from a gun safety organization to a body that doles out millions of dollars in rewards to its leaders for their success in pressuring elected officials into toeing their line.
The repercussions for Republican representatives defying an organization as formidable as the NRA are severe — typically, their career. In 1994, while Stevens was serving a congressman from Pennsylvania who voted against the NRA on an assault weapons ban, he was among the 38 Republican congressional leaders who defied their party on this issue. Presently, all those 38 officials are either out of office or no longer affiliate with the Republican party. Is that just a coincidence?
Owing to the Republicans' fear-induced silence and their dread of relinquishing power, Trump has been granted the liberty to make radical claims. These outrageous assertions — like the alleged "invasion" of South and Central Americans across the southern border — fuel equally extreme policies, such as the erection of a border wall.
Ultimately, the instinct driving Republican support for Donald Trump springs from fear. Republicans are fearful of America's rapidly transforming landscape and their potential loss of power — all while forgetting the accompanying responsibility of that power.
The Republican party's endorsement of Trump signals its impending downfall.
Let's face it, a significant number of Americans cast their votes for Trump. But when the era of Trump is scrutinized by historians, the brunt of the blame won't be borne by Trump's vociferous supporters or even Trump himself, a psychologically damaged individual who compensates for his deep-rooted insecurities with braggadocio, like a child would.
Instead, it's the Republican establishment that will bear the burden of history. Granted, at first, they were in denial. None of Stevens' colleagues could fathom Trump defeating a seasoned politician like Hillary Clinton, who was a former Secretary of State and senator. Stevens himself found the notion unthinkable.
However, once Trump became the nominee, almost every Republican chose, unambiguously, to back him, a man they knew was unfit to lead the nation.
Here's the crux of the matter: The Republican party's backing of Trump sounds the death knell for the party as we know it.
For Stevens, observing the contemporary Republican Party is akin to witnessing a friend progressively succumbing to addiction. He feels a melange of sadness, anger, and empathy. But there's a significant difference — addiction is a disease, cowardice is merely a weakness.
Stevens takes the Republican establishment's failure personally. He assisted in electing numerous Republican lawmakers who traded their dignity and duty as elected officials for a few more years of power. He is aware of his own hypocrisy, having accrued wealth and influence by aiding Republican officials to get elected.
However, his hypocrisy pales in comparison to that of the Republican Party. This party, which has prided itself on "seriousness of intent" and "commitment to character", continues to endorse a man who has mocked the disabled, justified the assassination of journalists by autocrats, bragged about assaulting women, and solicited foreign governments to probe his political adversaries.
This juncture should herald a period of introspection and a thorough evaluation of how the party can use its alleged values to serve an evolving America. Will it, though? Stevens would like to believe so.
But, that would be nothing more than a lie.
Concluding remarks
Here's the essential takeaway:
The Republican party's endorsement of Donald Trump is a calculated and desperate maneuver to maintain control in an ever-changing world. Those leaders who sacrificed their values for a few more years at the helm will, according to Stevens, be remembered as cowards by history.