The vibe at the RNC is worse than you can imagine

惭滨尝奥础鲍碍贰贰&苍产蝉辫;—&苍产蝉辫;Hello and happy Thursday. There are 109 days until the election and Lord help me, I’m in Milwaukee.

Nothing against cheese curds and it’s certainly not a “horrible city,” as Trump described it. But I am on Day 3 of the Republican National Convention, and that is a lot of RNC.

I am not going to start by making fun of Trump’s giant bandage, taped over his ear like he was sleeping with Barbie and her pillow got drool-stuck to his head, because it’s too soon, people. Too soon!

But I’m here to walk you through what’s it’s like to be on the ground with 2,000-plus Republican delegates and an additional 48,000 MAGA guests (though, honestly, I think half of those might be press).

The RNC crowd cheers former President Trump on Monday night.

(Robert Gauthier/Los Angeles Times)

Milwaukee is steamy, but not in a good way

Milwaukee is humid, as Midwestern summers are. The convention is spread out over three or four city blocks, which means a lot of outdoor walking to get from one venue to the next, and a lot of sweaty people.

Downtown is pretty much deserted — I mean COVID deserted — except for MAGA folks, a handful of intrepid protesters and an equal number of street preachers out for converts, although with this crowd I am unclear who needs converting (more on that in a minute).

Inside, it’s red, white and Trump, all the way. What struck me most from the first two nights of speeches was the absolutist rule of The Don. Now, I know he’s been the MAGA King for awhile, but there were a few challengers.

Nearly every single one of them (Nikki Haley, Ted Cruz) is here to bend the knee, swallowing their humiliation like a lifesaving pill. If they’re not, they are irrelevant (I heard Mike Pence is in Montana). And of course, J.D. Vance has his lips stuck you-know-where despite once being a never-Trumper.

Power tastes good, and Trump knows how to serve it out in small bites to keep them coming.

World & Nation

Photos: Trump, Vance and all the Republican National Convention fanfare

Members of the Republican Party have gathered in Milwaukee to officially name former President Trump to the 2024 ticket.

July 19, 2024

Unity for thee, not for me

By now, you’ve seen 10 million headlines on the Republican call for unity. And they are making that plea — right after calling for mass deportations, indulging in tirades about how Democrats want to destroy the country and throwing in gender-identity outrage as humor.

I can’t tell you how many speeches have been some form of vitriol, vitriol, vitriol ... and unity. Thank you and God Bless America!

I think of it like a boba with cheese foam. The sweet, sweet anger, the stuff Republicans crave, is right there under the surface. But it’s hidden beneath a thick layer of cheesy platitudes meant to obscure the Republican platform with a savory bit of fluff.

And the big joke of the convention? There are only two genders and God picks!

Some form of trans bashing has been included in at least a half-dozen speeches I’ve seen, always met with laughs and cheers. So I’m going to say it’s unity except for transgender people, who don’t seem to genuinely exist in Republican reality.

Small note: Democracy only works if it protects everyone.

Immigrants get the real fury

But the real fury is for undocumented immigrants. Trump has fed this bonfire for years, from the “s—hole” country remarks of his first term to escalations that immigrants are “animals.”

That ugliness is entrenched in this party — don’t fool yourselves on this one. Yes, it is true that Trump married an immigrant, and perhaps Barron could be considered an anchor baby for her. And yes, it is true that Vance is married to an Indian woman whose parents are immigrants.

But those are good immigrants.

The convention was chock full of speeches — and one deeply disturbing video — about what Republicans call an invasion (Kari Lake dubbed it the “Biden invasion”) at the southern border.

“Build the wall,” remains a popular chant.

Let’s be real. Our immigration system is a hot mess and everyone knows it. Global turmoil and climate change are causing mass migrations that end up on our doorstep, and frankly, always have. We have to figure something out.

But we need to be clear that a second Trump term will almost certainly mean the mass deportation of 10 million people.

This is especially terrifying in California, where we have millions living in blended families, some with documents and some without. The idea that breaking their families or forcing American-born children to choose between their parents and their country is going to be anything other than horrific needs to be dispelled — as does the Republican idea that undocumented people are by definition criminals.

Vivek Ramaswamy tried to put a happy spin on it, telling the crowd it wasn’t really about the people, but the process.

He said to undocumented people: “We will return you to your country of origin, not because you are bad people, but because you broke the law.”

That’s a bit of the cheese I was talking about, because what I saw in the convention hall was hatred and fear of brown and Black people, regardless of what brings them to the United States. Yes, there were Black and brown people in attendance, welcomed and included, even on stage.

But there was a bright, direct line — be it self-serving and false — drawn between crime and undocumented people, and a clear belief that deportation of every undocumented person is necessary for safe communities.

The saints march on

Equally as clear is that there is no boundary left between religion and state for Republicans. This is the party of Christian nationalism, and not only is it not hidden, it is embraced.

Forgot the number of Bible verses quoted, or the number of times Trump’s last-minute, lifesaving turn of his head was credited to the hand of God. I am all for freedom of belief.

But the dog-whistle policies were abundant as well. School choice (also known as the war on public education); eradicating wokeism (also known as ending tolerance); punishing diversity, equity and inclusion practices — these were the staples mixed into every speech.

There was an open acknowledgment, joy if you will, about plans to center Christianity in the work of government.

How that squares with mass deportations is beyond my ability to explain. You are on your own on that one.

Stay Golden,
Anita Chabria

What else you should be reading

The must-read: Rep. Adam Schiff calls on Biden to drop out of presidential race
The Obvious: ‘Betrayed’: Unions, White House irate over Teamsters president’s RNC speech
The L.A. Times special: California’s delegation could play a pivotal role at the DNC — depending on Biden

P.S. In a bit of California news, former Stockton Mayor Michael Tubbs has announced his run for lieutenant governor, once again forcing me to recall how to spell lieutenant.

Tubbs, you probably know, was a pioneer in basic incomes and has long been a champion of finding innovative ways to help our cities and our most vulnerable residents rise up.

I caught up with Tubbs via text to ask him what he hopes to achieve.

“I’m raising three kids with my partner, Anna, and I see California’s future through their eyes,” he told me. “It’s a future where education is accessible without crippling debt; where one job is enough to pay for basic necessities; where water is safe to drink and air is safe to breath; where we build enough housing so people can afford to live here; and where we end poverty and keep people from becoming homeless through a guaranteed basic income.”

How’s that for a California vision to contrast the RNC?

Former Stockton Mayor Michael Tubbs, shown in 2021 with wife Anna Malaika Nti-Asare Tubbs and their two young sons, is running for lieutenant governor.

(Al Seib/Los Angeles Times)

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