Across the Heartland, Trump Voters Are a Bit Confused as to What the Hell They Voted For
The Washington Post decided to spare us a weeks-long series examining the minds of Trump voters by lumping a whole bunch of them together in a single story. Here's the union-member Iowa Democrat who voted for Trump as agent of disruption, but who now is alarmed at all the disruption.
“It seems almost like a dictatorship at times. He’s got a lot of controversial stuff going on and rather than thinking it through, I’m afraid that he’s jumping into the frying pan with both feet.”
And now everybody's twitchy that the man that promised trade wars and repealing Obamacare is going to do those things.
Many Iowans worry Trump might cut support for wind-energy and ethanol programs; that his trade policies could hurt farms that export their crops; that mass deportations would empty the state’s factories and meat-packing plants; and that a repeal of the Affordable Care Act would yank health insurance away from thousands.
Yeah, well, you're all boned. That's exactly what he said he was going to do, and if you were feeling so pleased with the shouting and insults and penis references that you missed the actual details of his plans then surprise! But what can explain this? How th' mighty, coal-rolling hell could all these people have been so enamored of Trump as agent of change and yet so unconcerned about where that chaos would lead?
“He’s doing what he said he was going to do, that’s the biggest thing,” said Tyler Schurbon, 23, who describes himself as a “progressive Republican” who falls asleep watching Fox News each night.
Ah. Yeah, that might do it. And the stories roll on and on.
Surprise: a bucketload of them involve racism. Surprise, a bunch of them think what Trump is doing is horrible and wrong—but are still angry that other Americans are resisting him because golly, that just seems so rude. People who didn't vote for either Clinton or Trump because they were both equally bad are now left contemplating things they would not be goddamn contemplating if the fascist manchild and his white nationalist subordinates weren't now in charge:
Her [Muslim] husband is in the process of becoming a citizen, and they have discussed what they might do if they need to flee the country.
Flee America, that is. The Iowa family is discussing what they need to do if their family needs to flee America.
Over in Illinois, the New York Times looks at a different community, one that's now stupefied after the arrest and detention of an undocumented immigrant who for a decade has been one of the best and most-liked damn people in the town. And now a bunch of not-racists who backed Trump's notions of rounding up millions of people by an overwhelming margin—because they were going to get the coal mines back in return, so screw all those millions—are all twitchy because they don't want this "good man" and "role model" included.
How one night last fall, when the Fire Department was battling a two-alarm blaze, Mr. Hernandez suddenly appeared with meals for the firefighters. How he hosted a Law Enforcement Appreciation Day at the restaurant last summer as police officers were facing criticism around the country. How he took part in just about every community committee or charity effort — the Rotary Club, cancer fund-raisers, cleanup days, even scholarships for the Redbirds, the high school sports teams, which are the pride of this city.
While it's not clear that the people who want Hernandez to stay represent a majority of the community—at least, not if local newspaper comment threads are any indication—the story is presented as a bit of a conundrum, a complexity that the community somehow never thought of and is now working through. This is an overly charitable interpretation. Of course the people who voted for the man promising to deport millions were aware that a great many among those millions would be "good people" and "role models," and they didn't give a flying damn back then.
Now that it's happening to someone they personally know, suddenly the empathy gene kicks back in because if someone they know and like gets detained, everyone gets a bad feeling in the pit of their stomach as they realize that yes indeed, this is exactly what they voted for and they bear personal responsibility.
Tim Grigsby, who owns a local printing shop and considers Mr. Hernandez one of his closest friends, has been helping to lead the efforts to bring Mr. Hernandez back to West Frankfort. [...]
Mr. Grigsby said he still would vote for Mr. Trump. One never agrees with everything a politician does, “but maybe this should all be more on a per-case basis,” he said. “It’s hard to be black and white on this because there may be people like Carlos.”
Sorry, closest friend. Your pal hasn't changed his mind about voting for the racist lout who promised to deport millions, but he'll help you out, personally, to make up for it. Everyone else had just better hope they made some white Illinois friends too, ones who will help get their stories in the New York Times after they get carted off to the detention centers. That's how we'll be doing things in the Trump era.
How are we all feeling, then? Do we all properly understand Trump voters yet? If not, don't worry. By tomorrow there will be another piece profiling still more of them. By the time Trump gets impeached or resigns to spend more time with his money we’ll have met every last one of them.