Andy argues that Donald Trump’s conversion into a staunch pro-lifer was a matter of seeing an opportunity: It not only cemented his relationship with Republican base voters by appealing to what they cared about, but it also helped him win over skeptical Republicans who cared very much about the Supreme Court after Justice Antonin Scalia died in early 2016. In terms of retrospectively evaluating Trump’s pro-life record and role in bringing about the end of Roe v. Wade, it is irrelevant whether that conversion was sincere or not, although the question arises again when he attacks pro-lifers to shift blame away from himself while seeking another presidential term.
For the moment, though, put aside any distaste for political opportunism. Consider this: One reason that Trump was so effective in 2016 was precisely because he had no political past and no prior ideological or political commitments. He could approach the primary electorate in a purely opportunistic way, like a businessman sizing up a market opportunity: try different things, see what sells, stick with that and discard the rest. Those of us long versed in conservative and Republican politics found this infuriating and unlikely to lead to a platform that Trump would stand behind, but precisely because Trump’s relationship with the party and its voters was transactional and based on delivering the goods — rather than a matter of loyalty and trust extended to a party stalwart — he knew he had to deliver.
None of that is true any longer. Trump is now the opposite of a man without a past and without commitments. Everything he talks about now is aimed at justifying himself and his record — in office, in the 2020 election, in his endorsements, you name it. When Trump complains about pro-lifers, or backs Kevin McCarthy, or opposes Brian Kemp, or touts the Covid vaccines, he is doing so with his gaze fixed on the past, not the future and not the voters. On Ukraine, he was out of step with his populist base when he was boasting last spring about how much he had previously aided the country — a sore spot after his first impeachment — and has only gradually turned this into a complaint that the U.S. is paying too much of the bill relative to the rest of NATO. He no longer has the flexibility to adjust himself to go where the public is if that would mean admitting error. And he no longer feels the need to, because so many of his remaining supporters are the opposite of transactional: They have bought into Trump the man and the political phenomenon. Trump isn’t the hungry outsider anymore; he’s the complacent fixture now, no longer hunting for opportunities.