I have heard it said that even if Donald Trump were to burn down the homes of his supporters, they would still vote for him. I don’t believe this is an exaggeration. When people view someone as a savior — as is the case with Mr. Trump, who claims to be capable of redressing every grievance — there is nothing they won’t do for him.
But the question being begged is this: Why do Mr. Trump’s supporters need a savior? The answer, we are told, is that they are angry. This seems to be the media’s theme du jour: People are angry! But I have yet to hear a reporter do his or her job by asking the logical follow-up question: angry about what? Details, please.
From where I sit, the answer is that the Trump worshipers themselves don’t know. But I think I do. I have no doubt that Trump supporters are angry, but it is a sort of diffuse, unfocused, generalized anger. What generates it? Maybe a vague dissatisfaction with life in general, about goals unidentified or unaccomplished, lottery tickets that never come through, the fading prospect of becoming rich, the disappearance of manufacturing jobs, the indignity of having a black president, where not long ago his kind knew their place in the back of the bus. And on it goes.
In short, Mr. Trump’s supporters feel they have been hurt. Short-changed. And now it’s time for payback. For all the affronts they have suffered, it is time for someone else to get hurt. And it doesn’t matter who it is. Immigrants will do. Or welfare recipients. Or liberals.
Muslims, too — and their families! It’s a long list.
It occurred to me that such a mood or attitude is one that also is displayed by vandals — those who break windows, spray graffiti, destroy public property or periodically tear up the Orono Bog Boardwalk. I’ve often wondered why people do these things. And so I found a vandal and asked him.
It was like this. Someone planted a lovely shrub in my neighborhood. It was clear that it had been freshly planted because of the wet mulch and a bright orange sales tag. The young man was walking a short distance ahead of me. I watched as he paused, saw the shrub and ripped it out of the ground, throwing it aside. Before he could walk on I caught up with him. He was about 20 and, by the looks of him, capable of tearing me up as well. But my impulse to understand his action was so strong that I persisted. I quietly asked him why he had done what he did. Using expletives too abrasive for a family newspaper, he told me he didn’t know but that “things” were getting on his nerves and no one would “cut him a break.” He didn’t have a job and wasn’t in school. What did he do, then? He walked. And he tore things up. I listened for about 10 minutes, but the investment in time and attention paid off: He helped me re-plant the shrub. Then he walked on.
I think that’s it, then. Life is unfair, opportunities often escape one’s grasp, wounds are sometimes self-inflicted. It hurts. And the path of least resistance, destructive as it is, is to hurt something or somebody else — for a change. And if you aren’t able or willing to do the hurting yourself, you get someone to do it for you.
That’s the way it is with those who would follow a Trump. It doesn’t matter that he lies. Or that his promises are false. Or that he has utter contempt for his own constituency. He’s a fighter, however undisciplined, and when he flails people get hurt.
The only saving grace here is that the man will not be elected president. And we will have a four-year break before the next savior arrives on the scene.
Robert Klose is a four-time winner of the Maine Press Association’s annual award for opinion writing. His recent novel, “Long Live Grover Cleveland,” has just won a Ben Franklin Literary Award.