The real question is, what motivates Trump’s Apologists to support him even when his behavior is wrong? Why do his boosters take to the airwaves, performing verbal gymnastics to defend immoral statements or conduct? Some of them are the same people who stood on the train tracks with their hands in the air trying to stop Trump from becoming president. So what turned them into Trump’s human shields? Hayek’s words above offer a partial explanation, but I want to flesh them out further. During my time in the Trump administration, I have witnessed three primary motivations for what a passerby would call brainwashing. Power, tribal allegiance, and fear.
Trump Apologists see him as a means to personal influence and advancement. They want to be close to power. They are eager for stature they wouldn’t gain otherwise and are willing to excuse Trump’s actions to get it. Even then-candidate Trump’s most pointed critics, such as Texas governor Rick Perry, were willing to cast aside their existential warnings about the future of the country in order to snag comfortable positions in his cabinet. Perry is an actual conservative who was the longest-serving governor in his state’s history. Now he doesn’t spend too much time extolling conservative values and largely tries to avoid the president’s attention or ire inside the administration. Others pretend they weren’t interested in joining but secretly wish they’d been picked for similar positions.
For some appointees, the “power” they want is financial. Aides openly discuss how one political position or another will translate into post-government dollars. Some believe an ongoing connection to Trump World offers opportunities for a small windfall in the political afterlife. Perhaps they can go work for his company, or maybe Jared and Ivanka will take aides with them into the private sector and build something with their star power. These are hardly the motives the American people expect to animate their public servants. Others who do leave the administration are often bought off with a high salary at the Trump campaign or at a super PAC to pacify them. So far, that’s worked pretty well, becoming standard practice for President Trump, who dangles future offers for disaffected lieutenants to keep them quiet. Omarosa Manigault, who claimed she was offered a six-figure salary to stay on the team, was a vocal exception.
For many elected Republicans, abandoning their concerns and supporting the president has brought them the power of influence. They can ring up Trump when they need a few minutes on the phone to talk about their pet project, fly with him on Air Force One to be photographed at a major event, or get name-checked in an approving Trump tweet with a hundred thousand “likes.” It will help them shore up their base and avoid primary challengers. Because it’s easier to win with the bully on your side.
Blind devotion is another factor. The president demands unyielding loyalty from his subordinates, even if that runs afoul of their job descriptions. “I need loyalty. I expect loyalty,” he told Jim Comey. He has the same expectation for many other positions that are supposed to be semi-independent from the political sway of the White House, whether it’s a spy agency head or the Fed chair. These roles have autonomy for good reason. Not in Donald Trump’s mind. He wants to see signs of personal submission, and he gets it, or the other person is in the firing line.
We were all unnerved by an early cabinet meeting, when one by one members of the administration took turns offering extravagant praise of the commander in chief on national television. A more secure person would have called a halt to the cheesy compliments—“We thank you for the opportunity and the blessing you’ve given us,” then chief of staff Reince Priebus gushed. Donald Trump basked in it, like a potentate accepting offerings from grateful peasants. If you go back and watch the video, you’ll notice a few cabinet members declined to offer personal tribute, instead praising their workforces. They withheld the Trump flattery, and now they are gone.
One superb political study out of Brigham Young University found that “group loyalty is the stronger motivator of opinion than are any ideological principles.” Many people around the president and in the GOP support him because he is at the helm, not because of what he believes. In fact, they support him regardless of what he believes. He has created a true cult of personality. Whether he is right or wrong, the tribe must protect him, even if that means forsaking their principles.
Finally, some are motivated by fear—of criticism, of reprisals, and of job loss. A culture of fear is what we would expect from a leader with authoritarian tendencies. In his own words, Trump embraces fear as a management tool. He enjoys keeping aides on their toes with Game of Thrones intrigue about possible terminations, or by threatening allies with severe repercussions if they break with him. Republicans have seen the consequences when someone takes on the party’s Goliath. He takes no prisoners.
Potential defectors saw what happened when Trump set out to ruin his former senior aide Steve Bannon after Bannon spilled unflattering details in a book about the president. Aides were banned from speaking to him and ordered to go on television to denounce him. Trump sought to destroy his role at Breitbart News, his support from Republican donors, and his friendships with anyone seeking to do business with the administration. Trump will go after family members of turncoats, too, as he did with relatives of Michael Cohen and Anthony Scaramucci.
Thus, the weak-natured in the administration and the GOP have become more compliant.
Smiling and Nodding
How do you identify a Trump Apologist? They often display a telltale trait: smiling and nodding at the wrong time.
Put them in a room with the president and watch as he strings together unrelated sentences, as his tone changes, as his face contorts, and as he declares he is going to do something very, very good (but that reasonable people know is not good at all, and perhaps very bad). Watch as he gestures his hands to those around the room, enlisting them by extension in his declaration, whether they willingly endorse it or not. Then scan the room. The bobbing heads and forced grins are Apologists. You can see for yourself on television because the president invites the press to cover these conversations, as a means to display his total dominance of those around him.
There are two separate types of unsavory Trump appointee. Both belong to the same genus, the Apologist, defined by their shared willingness to excuse the inexcusable. But each is its own species with distinctive characteristics. The first species is the Sycophant. The second is the Silent Abettor. The intermingling motives—power, tribalism, and fear—are what keep both species nodding in agreement.
The Sycophant is a true believer. He or she fell for the president’s message right away and admires Trump to the point of literal brand loyalty. They would purchase Trump Steaks or Trump Vodka if they could (no longer on sale). If he produces it, the Sycophants will buy it. Today, they patronize the Trump International Hotel down the street from the White House, where they lap up drinks as thirstily as they do the president’s talking points. When he mocks people less powerful, they laugh; when he comes up with a derogatory slur for an opponent, they call him “brilliant” for appealing to the masses in a way no one else can. The Sycophant’s motives are a combination of “power” and “tribalism,” which is why, when the president asks them to do something wrong-headed, they won’t flinch. His ethics are their ethics.