A Bullying Hulk

 The most chilling aspect of the last few weeks is just how much power Trump has managed to consolidate already—and he's not even in office yet. Each day brings fresh news that some corporate CEO or tech insider has just lined up to kiss his ring. Trump's behavior in all this seems to establish a simple pattern of reward and punishment: he may appear magnanimous if you join Bezos and the rest in toadying and flattering him. But he will be utterly vicious and ruthless if you dare to oppose or criticize. 

His lawsuit this week against Ann Selzer and the Des Moines Register is a quintessential example of his mean-spirited tactics. Obviously, it's a frivolous lawsuit. Trump will not win on the facts. But that hardly matters. The purpose of the suit is to bully, intimidate, and harass by imposing costs on others—and no doubt it will succeed in that goal. It's actually all too easy under our broken system of civil litigation to force people to pay ruinous legal bills, even when you have no serious case against them. 

Obviously, there's nothing new or unprecedented about Trump filing unmeritorious suits against journalists who criticize him. He's been doing that for years. It's wholly in-character. But there's something infinitely more disturbing about him doing this as president-elect. The disproportion of power here is even more stark than usual. The fact that Trump has no qualms about using his bully pulpit as the incoming president to try to crush a local paper, just for publishing a poll he didn't like, is downright grotesque. 

The New York Times coverage of a recent Young Republicans event cited far-right British provocateur Nigel Farage predicting that Trump, in his second administration, would be less focused on revenge than he appeared to be on the campaign trail: "Everything I can see about Trump this time, he’s very positive [....] He’s looking forward." Tell that to Ann Selzer! So much for being "magnanimous in victory." Trump is still bent on pursuing this case, even though he won Iowa and the national election hands-down. 

In other words, he is bottomlessly petty and vindictive. There is no amount of power or leverage over others that will placate or satisfy him. He will go on wanting more. And so, the pattern of his future rule is already set: there will be those who dare to challenge his preferred narrative. But he will use every means at hand to destroy them. So there will be fewer and fewer of them remaining with time. Everyone else will find it easier to fall into line and flatter him. Better that than going bankrupt fighting bogus suits. 

I am reminded of the British war-poet Isaac Rosenberg's description of a "rotting God"—which happens to be one of the finest portrayals of tyranny ever penned. Rosenberg's "God" is a sort of Francis Bacon or David Cronenberg creation, with a "malodorous brain" full of "slugs and mire." When one of the lesser beings the tyrant crushes turns to challenge him, he casually swats it down. Others find it easier to "cringe." And the short-lived revolt of one who dared to challenge him only makes the tyranny worse: 

On fragments of an old shrunk power,

On shy and maimed, on women wrung awry,

He lay, a bullying hulk, to crush them more.

But when one, fearless, turned and clawed like bronze,

Cringing was easy to blunt these stern paws,

And he would weigh the heavier on those after.

That will be the pattern of the second Trump administration. If small local papers and independent media dare to question his majesty, he will only "crush them" and then "weigh the heavier on those after." But, "cringing" will be "easy to blunt these stern paws." The Jeff Bezoses of the world find that all they have to do to get in Trump's good graces is to lick his boots and eat out of his palm. So, in dread of suffering the same fact as the Des Moines Register, they will all eagerly line up to pay their obeisance. 

This level of power to silence dissent and reward the personally loyal is—needless to say—utterly at odds with what we take to be the principles of our democracy and free speech in this country. But Trump appears to have already amassed a great deal of that power, even before taking office. This is a deeply troubling sign of how much further he might go, once he has the entire apparatus of the Justice Department and the federal executive branch at his personal command. 

But maybe Trump—once he has all this power—will choose not to abuse it? Guess again. His position of advantage over the Des Moines Register did not lead him to behave with mercy and magnanimity. Indeed, I don't think Trump has ever enjoyed a power that he did not immediately abuse. I don't think he's capable of holding a position of leverage without immediately exploiting it. Every instinct in his "malodorous brain" cries out, as soon as he sees someone in a helpless position, to crush them even harder. 

I don't know how else to explain, for instance, the fact that Trump feels the need to insult and humiliate the Prime Minister of Canada by calling his country the "51st state," etc.,  and its leader a mere "governor." Obviously, Trump's behavior in this regard is so bombastic and childish that it's tempting to laugh at it. Even Trudeau tried to pass it off as a "joke." But there is something incredibly dark at the core of it: the fact that Trump is himself such a small and petty man that he feels this need to bully others. 

Canada, after all, is in a vulnerable position. Trump has issued unprovoked tariff threats against it, even though it is our next-door neighbor, close ally, and largest trading partner. And, unfortunately, the president actually does have power to exploit this position, if he chooses. The United States has the world's largest economy, and that does actually give it the ability to bully many of its allies. Trump knows this, and can't help himself. As I say, he's never seen an advantage that he would not exploit. 

A bigger person would restrain themselves from abusing this position of leverage—partly on moral grounds, and partly out of enlightened self-interest (trust me, it's not in the United States' long-term interest to alienate all of our allies). But Trump is incapable of being a bigger person. That's what his Ann Selzer lawsuit proves. He is an incredibly, pathetically small and vindictive little man. In his rat-like brain, he truly can think of nothing better to do with any form of power but to abuse it to hurt others. 

I say that this is "incredibly dark" not only because of its meanness—but also because it is a hallmark of the fascist mentality. As Erich Fromm once wrote of the fascist: "powerless people or institutions automatically arouse his contempt. The very sight of a powerless person makes him want to attack, dominate, humiliate him. Whereas a different kind of character is appalled by the idea of attacking one who is helpless, the authoritarian character feels the more aroused the more helpless he has become." 

That is Trump. Just watch him. You will see it. If Trump sees that anyone else is in a weakened position, he will pounce and try to rub it in even harder. It doesn't matter whether it's captured and tortured prisoners of war, a person with a disability, a disfavored or stigmatized outgroup, or the prime minister of a country that Trump knows is all-too-dependent on his economic whims, because of the U.S.'s position in the global economy—Trump will immediately try to "attack, dominate, and humiliate" that person. 

A bigger person, as Fromm notes, would try to restrain themselves from taking advantage of the weakness of others. That's part of what actual strength means. The highest form of strength is the ability to master oneself and one's own worst impulses—to choose magnanimity over vindictiveness when both options are available. But Trump is not a strong man, despite all his "death and thundering" (to borrow a phrase from Heine). He is a very small and weak man. And so more of this is what we can expect...