It’s not principled, and it’s not helpful to conservatives. It serves only to satisfy the vanity of a once-prominent politician who can’t give up the ghost.
It’s not principled, and it’s not helpful to conservatives. It serves only to satisfy the vanity of a once-prominent politician who can’t give up the ghost.
W hen one inquires as to why, at this late stage, Chris Christie seems resolved to stay in the Republican-primary charade when he is obviously destined to end up as an ignominious also-ran, one is usually told that Christie is sticking around so that there is at least one candidate on the stage who is willing to stick it directly to Donald J. Trump. I come today to puncture this idea, which is both overstated and over-accepted, which deserves to be set within a context that is far less flattering to Christie, and which, when extrapolated out, renders the stated rationale for his presence entirely hollow.
It is certainly true that, in 2024, Chris Christie has rebranded himself as the most principled anti-Trump candidate within the firmament. But there is branding and there is reality, and, in this case, the two remain distant cousins. Chris Christie can, indeed, be described as an anti-Trump candidate. But he cannot fairly be described as a principled one. There are certain figures within the political universe who have paid a price for their opposition to Trump. Christie is not among them. In 2016, it suited him to be a Trump lackey; in 2024, it suits him to be a Trump critic. In between those eras, Christie experienced no discomfort whatsoever as a result of his positions. He did not, like figures such as Liz Cheney, lose his leadership position and then his career. He did not, like some writers and broadcasters, miss out on lucrative opportunities. He coasted, moving where the wind took him. That has a profound effect on his credibility.
It is telling that Christie’s explanation of his shift does not make any sense. This week, Christie announced that he had chosen to endorse Donald Trump in 2016 because Donald Trump was going to win. That, though, is not even remotely exculpatory. When Christie issued his endorsement, back in February 2016, the primary was still underway, and many of us — myself included — were still fighting hammer-and-tongs to try to prevent Trump from prevailing. Why wasn’t Chris Christie? I’ll tell you: Because Chris Christie wanted to be rewarded with a position in the Trump White House, and he believed that a well-timed recommendation of the front-runner might secure one. That decision was not a blunder; it was conscious, deliberate, transparently self-serving, and, relative to many other Republicans’ endorsements — including those issued by figures who went on to become Trump sycophants — early. Today, Christie talks about it as if it had been a fait accompli. This is false. I can still remember where I was when I heard about his endorsement, and I can recall how disillusioned it made me feel about the prospects of stopping Trump. Had he wished to, Christie could have stayed with the anti-Trump side until Trump won the nomination. He didn’t, and he must own that.
Besides, Christie’s argument doesn’t add up on its own terms. Christie’s settled-upon line is that he offered his support because Trump “was winning.” But he can’t have it both ways. If Trump was, indeed, unstoppable back in February 2016, then he didn’t need any help from a has-been such as Chris Christie. And if Trump wasn’t unstoppable, then Christie’s endorsement was designed to make a real difference in the contest — a difference for which Christie now deserves to be held accountable. And come, now: Let’s not have any guff about it having been too early for Christie to have comprehended who Donald Trump was. By the time that Christie jumped on board, Trump had accused Ted Cruz of stealing Iowa, had made his ugly comments about John McCain, and had told Megyn Kelly that she had “blood coming out of her wherever,” and more. Christie knew all this, and he didn’t care.
Why does this matter? I’d say it matters for a couple of reasons. First, because, frankly, I have grown weary of Chris Christie’s bad habit of criticizing conservatives who made the same pragmatic choices that he did, but who, unlike him, have the good manners to own their utilitarianism. Second, because if Chris Christie does not, in fact, possess the virtues and the discernment that he is presently pretending to possess, then what exactly is his own candidacy for? Christie is not especially conservative; while I’m glad he was governor of the basket-case that is New Jersey, he is by no means the sort of person I’d like to see running the federal government. He does not inspire great love in the electorate; indeed, he may be the most unpopular Republican-primary candidate in history. He’s quite talented as a speaker, as former prosecutors often are, but he’s not talented in a way that makes one want to cast everyone else in the country aside. So what’s the point?
The answer, I fear, is that like so many people who were once prominent, Christie cannot give up the ghost. In 2016, Christie understood that to advance his career he needed to become a Trump groupie, and in 2024 he understands that, to advance his career, he needs to be a caviler. How ironic it would be if, despite the diametrically opposed positioning, his engagement led to the same outcome: a set of services rendered to the fortunes of Donald Trump — with no gratitude or recompense offered up in return.