Friday November 29, 2024
Shotgun Divorce Wednesday October 12, 2016
When I drew a cartoon back in 2016 of Trump as a gun-wielding clown chasing the GOP’s elephant out of his circus tent, I couldn’t have imagined just how spot-on it would turn out to be. Back then, Trump was the outsider shaking up the Republican Party, and the party itself still seemed to have a pulse—full of leaders who at least tried to push back. But now, eight years later, it’s clear Trump wasn’t just running the circus; he was slowly turning it into his personal kingdom.
The old GOP—the one that talked about free markets, small government, and national defence—feels like ancient history. People like Mitt Romney, the Bush family, Liz Cheney, and John McCain represented a party with ideals (whether or not you agreed with them). They thought they could outlast Trump, that voters would tire of the chaos. Instead, the opposite happened: the base embraced him, and anyone who didn’t was shown the door. Now, loyalty to Trump isn’t just expected—it’s the whole game.
In Trump’s first term, there was still a mix of insiders, skeptics, and yes-men in his administration. But it didn’t take long for him to figure out who was “with him” and who wasn’t. By the time we reached 2024, Trump wasn’t making the same “mistakes.” His Cabinet picks and key appointments are all about loyalty, not experience. Some of these choices—like putting TV personalities or controversial figures into top positions, Dr Oz, and Pete Hegseth — have even Republicans raising their eyebrows. But guess what? Nobody dares to seriously challenge him. The ones who do, like Liz Cheney or Adam Kinzinger, are now on the outside looking in, while people like Tulsi Gabbard and Stephen Miller are riding high.
The GOP has been completely reworked in Trump’s image. It’s no longer about policies or platforms; it’s about fealty. If you’re not 100% behind Trump, you’re out. Even Nikki Haley, who’s tried every dance move possible to stay in Trump’s orbit without completely losing herself, has found herself sidelined again. Trump’s version of the party has no room for skeptics, no patience for dissent. Hello, RFK Jr.
This is the Republican Party now. It runs on loyalty oaths and culture wars. Fiscal conservatism, small government—those are relics. The GOP isn’t about ideas anymore; it’s about Trump and the grievances he taps into. For his supporters, that’s enough. They love the fight, the energy, the fact that Trump’s version of the party feels more connected to working-class anger and less like the old, buttoned-up establishment.
Looking back at that 2016 cartoon, it felt exaggerated at the time—a clown, a gun, the poor GOP elephant running for its life. But honestly, it doesn’t feel exaggerated anymore. The circus has turned into a monarchy, with Trump firmly on the throne. And for now, there’s no one left in the party brave—or foolish—enough to try and take it from him.