The Victorious, Censorious, Malicious Donald Trump

About an hour and a half after Donald Trump was declared the winner of the Republican primary in New Hampshire, he appeared onstage at a victory rally in Nashua, N.H., to bask in his accomplishment and bash lesser mortals. Bask-and-bash is his preferred M.O., an indulgence of the love he feels for himself and the contempt he feels for almost everybody else, and his bearing and remarks indeed had a familiar, compulsory ring. As Trump performances go, it was an unremarkable one.

And yet so utterly revealing. So perfectly emblematic. CNN, which I happened to be watching, went live to Nashua and stayed with him for maybe 10 minutes, maybe less — the new fashion is to mete out attention to Trump modestly, carefully, lest he get too big a megaphone for his lies — and yet that abbreviated encounter provided ample information. I was struck by all that it communicated.

Such as the sycophancy surrounding Trump. Right behind him, visible over his shoulder, was Senator Tim Scott, a man who prides himself on his faith and decency, a former rival of Trump’s for the Republican nomination, now another toady in Trump’s service, surely angling to be his running mate, already on board as a campaign-trail surrogate. Scott was smiling broadly. It was as sad an expression as I’ve ever seen. Maybe sacrificing scruples on the altar of ambition is more joyful than I ever imagined. Maybe Stockholm syndrome takes effect more quickly and fully than I ever realized.

Or maybe Scott was intent on being as sunny a sidekick to Trump as Vivek Ramaswamy, who jittered into the frame to take a turn at the microphone and declare his devotion. Trump is an inconstant ally, but no matter: He’s rewarded with a retinue of fawners and flatterers. It’s a parable of conquest. It’s also morally pathetic.