On the heels of a Supreme Court decision declaring that presidents have immunity for official acts, a failed assassination attempt at a Pennsylvania rally, and pressure for President Joe Biden to step down from office, GOP convention delegates enthusiastically met in Wisconsin for the Republican National Convention July 15-18. The influx of Republicans to Milwaukee allegedly crashed Grindr, a parody of “Ice Ice Baby” played to an unmoved audience, Hulk Hogan tore off a tank top to reveal a slightly tighter-fitting Trump/Pence tank top, and convicted felon Donald Trump picked Ohio Sen. J.D. Vance as his running mate. Notably absent were former U.S. presidents and the old GOP vanguard, like the Bush and McCain families, and the general concept of time between former President Ronald Reagan and 2016.
The RNC sold its post-assassination attempt programming as focused on unity and healing. What we got was an anointing of a convicted felon as a divinely chosen warrior-messiah destined to save America and a concentrated fueling of xenophobia and queerphobia, with a sprinkle of the words unity and love thrown in to distract from the blatant lies.
Right before the convention, the Trump campaign publicly distanced itself from Project 2025, a game plan for the next presidency written by the Heritage Foundation. Trump claims to know nothing about it, yet chose the Heritage Foundation’s pick, Vance, as his running mate. But the Trump/GOP platform is almost identical to Project 2025. Someone on X made searchable archives of Project 2025 and Agenda 47/the GOP platform so we can see for ourselves. Despite a robust Heritage Foundation presence at the convention, Project 2025 wasn’t mentioned by any speakers on the main stage.
The event itself was light on statements about plans and policy until day four; the first three days were focused on blaming immigrants, DEI, “gender ideology” in public schools, and President Biden for inflation, increased violence, Israel’s and Russia’s invasions, and the opioid epidemic. Trans people were the butt of the jokes that always got a laugh and the loudest cheers. Almost every mention of education had a nod to transphobia, and nearly every mention of foreign relations involved reaffirming the GOP’s unconditional support for Israel and disdain for aiding Ukraine.
Watching the RNC felt like gaslighting—taking what we know of the bigoted ideology and demographics of the GOP and insisting they’re an inclusive, diverse, big-tent movement by highlighting the exceptions. Most speakers were decades younger than Trump and not the traditional old white Republican man. Newt Gingrich was there, of course, and looked the same as he did in 2006. But the bulk of the speakers were younger Black or Latinx politicians (men) or businessmen, and multi-racial, Latinx, or white women who were frequently introduced simply as a mother, or single mother, or Latina-American mother. It was the GOP’s visual application of tokenism—aimed to legitimize ideas that hurt marginalized communities and dispel any criticism that the party only centers the voices of white men.
Often, these speakers mentioned opposition to “DEI” programs or affirmative action, or, in the case of Sen. Tim Scott, even stated that racism isn’t real in America, only in Democrat-run cities. The implication of the night was not that diversity makes us stronger and we should value our differences, but that all our differences are fine as long as we ignore them and come together around unifying principles. And if the RNC is any indicator, those principles are blaming immigrants, “gender ideology,” and the Democrats in power for every social ill.
Throughout the week, speakers made it a point to mention that they would defend the rights of everyone regardless of whether they were Republican or Democrat, man or woman, and regardless of race. Being queer or straight was not included in this dichotomous list, despite Grindr’s apparent popularity among the Republicans in town for the convention.
Additionally, with every speaker, the history and reality of the last eight years were rewritten to portray Trump as a kind of warrior-messiah. This is a framing that Trump started really leaning into around 2019 when he called himself “the chosen one,” and the near-assassination has only added fuel to that fire. Most, if not all, speakers at the convention mentioned they now believe Trump is divinely protected and chosen to rescue America because he survived the assassination attempt. Business owner Perry Johnson even pledged to do “whatever is necessary” to get Trump back in the White House because Trump “has the heart of a lion, the brain of a genius, and he’s done it before.” Chants followed.
The emphasis speakers placed on getting Trump to the White House at any cost seemed to be validated by their belief in his divine right to the metaphorical throne. God chose Trump to be president; therefore, nothing and no one is allowed to stand in the way of that. Johnson may have been one of the few to have shouted the quiet part from the stage, but let’s be clear, “unity” in the MAGA GOP means no resistance to the plans they want to enact. With SCOTUS’ recent immunity ruling, it doesn’t take a lot of work to imagine what happens to the people Trump has already declared his enemies and promised retribution to.
Because MAGA rhetoric taps into existential fears, it can be compelling to people who don’t have to deal with oppression at multiple intersections every single day. The Trump campaign will tap into those fears and then portray Trump not just as an answer but as God’s answer, and who are you, the average—presumably church-attending—Joe (or Jean, I suppose), to question the man God chose? Who got nicked in the ear by a bullet (probably) that one time?
Since Biden announced on Sunday that he’s dropping out of the race, the Trump/Vance campaign can’t run on making fun of him like they hoped. They now have to convince Americans to vote for them on a lie-based platform they’ve developed specifically to harness voters’ extremely valid economic anxieties. They’re going to tap into people’s fears and perceived lack of safety by casting blame onto queer people and “illegal” immigrants. They will say they will protect everyone “regardless of skin color or gender” while threatening entire communities they dislike. Trump is not abandoning the Project 2025 agenda; he just doesn’t want to share credit.
The Republican party seems to be planning to rely heavily on divine appeal (which sounds incredibly unhinged to the non-religious), nostalgia for a prosperous time that never existed, and bringing “back” peace through strength (read: Trump’s insatiable lust for power) to motivate voters to turn out in November. It’s easy to feel defeated when the rhetoric is scary, but it’s important to remember that the election isn’t over. At a minimum, we can use their own “landslides can’t be cheated” election rhetoric against them and turn out to vote. Trump and Vance are running on deeply unpopular ideas once they’re unpaired from the fears the campaign is tapping into. Hope is the antidote to fear.
Author
Kieryn Darkwater (they/them) is a transmasc, nonbinary, artist and organizer who grew up trained to fight in the "culture war" as the eldest daughter in a Quiverfull, homeschooling, Christian national
Sign up for Prism newsletters.
Stay up to date with curated collection of our top stories.