Tonight’s Republican primary debate may appear to be a significant event, but it’s more of a performance, a spectacle, a charade—offering little relevance to the 2024 presidential primary’s outcome.
Donald Trump consistently leads with over 50 percent in national polling averages, while other contenders lack the momentum required for a genuine challenge. None of Trump’s opponents have found an effective line of attack, and many aren’t even attempting one. The establishment’s hope that Trump’s legal issues might derail his campaign has proven futile; if anything, the four indictments seem to have bolstered his position in the primary.
At this juncture, only Trump’s death or incapacitation could impede his path to victory. Everyone, including the debate’s organizers and rational rival candidates, recognizes this fact. Trump refrains from participating in the debates because he doesn’t need to; sharing a stage with ostensible rivals who are, in reality, mere warm-up acts for his coronation would only diminish his status.
However, this doesn’t render the debate entirely irrelevant. Other candidates still gain from their presence on the stage, whether it’s improving their future political prospects or satisfying their need for attention. With a discerning eye, one might glimpse an intriguing window into the policy debates that will shape the post-Trump Republican Party.
Nonetheless, we are far from being “post-Trump” in reality. By presenting the debate as a genuine presidential contest rather than a discussion among prominent Republicans, its organizers are perpetuating a deception. In Trump’s absence and in the absence of serious challengers, this is a form of political make-believe—a ritual the party undertakes to obscure the grim reality of its transformation.
In essence, the debate is a facade, while Donald Trump’s grip on the GOP remains unwavering.
The True Nature of the “Debate” Arguing for the debate’s significance hinges on viewing it as a competition—a preliminary contest in which candidates vie for the coveted role of the One True Challenger to Donald Trump.
To debunk this notion, let’s examine the trajectory of the candidate who previously held that title: Florida Governor Ron DeSantis.
In mid-February, DeSantis was within striking distance, trailing Trump by a mere 2 percentage points in the FiveThirtyEight national poll average. However, since then, his numbers have plummeted dramatically. An ineffectively run campaign, marred by DeSantis’s robotic and unlikable demeanor, has dampened the primary electorate’s enthusiasm for the Florida governor.
Today, DeSantis lags a staggering 41 percentage points behind Trump in FiveThirtyEight’s average. This is only slightly better than Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s 49-point deficit in his fictitious bid to challenge President Biden. A recent New Hampshire poll placed DeSantis in fifth place, highlighting how his presidential campaign’s humiliation is also affecting his standing in his home state, where the once-loyal Florida Republican party is beginning to rebel.
Despite DeSantis’s dramatic fall from grace, he still occupies second place. His closest rival, businessman Vivek Ramaswamy, polls at around 6 points in the national average. Rather than fostering the rise of a new Trump challenger, DeSantis’s candidacy exposed the enduring strength of Trump’s influence over the party, making it virtually impossible for anyone to break free from it.
As such, the Republican debate cannot be genuinely classified as a presidential debate.
Debates typically provide a platform for candidates to present themselves to the public, with the aim of securing their party’s nomination. However, given that the campaign’s outcome is all but decided—so much so that Trump could skip the final debate without repercussions—this is not the primary purpose.
Instead, the debate has been overtaken by its secondary functions: lesser-known candidates striving for influence or attention.
For establishment candidates who perform well, the debate may serve as a stepping stone to future presidential or federal office runs (see Nikki Haley). Trump-aligned candidates could achieve similar ends or secure positions in his potential second administration (see Vivek Ramaswamy). Meanwhile, others may harbor different motivations; Chris Christie, for instance, appears determined to exact revenge on Trump, his long-time antagonist.
These dynamics certainly provide fodder for political enthusiasts. Nevertheless, in a genuine primary debate, the stakes are considerably higher, with a substantial portion of undecided voters seeking reasons to support one party member over another. In this instance, it’s abundantly clear that Trump will easily secure the nomination. The idea that any of these candidates can confidently utter phrases like “in my administration” or “when I’m president” is nothing short of absurd.
Eric Levitz of New York Magazine recently argued that the mainstream press faces a challenging dilemma due to Trump’s undeniable authoritarian tendencies. They must choose between accurately depicting him and sounding like a “partisan rag,” or presenting Trump and his control over the Republican party as normal. Too often, he contends, they opt for the latter approach, acting like an “amnesiac” or an abusive household determined to maintain appearances, clinging to old routines and an approximation of normality while ignoring uncomfortable truths.
The extensive coverage of the presidential debate aligns perfectly with Levitz’s description. We collectively pretend that it resembles past debates, a typical event held by a regular party when, in reality, it is a facade concealing the true nature of the GOP under Trump’s influence—an entity that poses a significant threat to American democracy should he secure a second term.