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Maybe not your generals anymore!

Letter from Lackawanna County

Right is right, even if everyone is against it, and wrong is wrong, even if everyone is for it.

William Penn

Dear Wags,

To live in Pennsylvania now is to be caught between the Scylla and Charybdis of Get Out the Vote efforts. No day goes by without a barrage of texts, phone calls, and knocks on the door. Dumber attempts at persuasion—mountains of direct mail and histrionic television ads—pummel the populace. We are in the final stage of a campaign when silly amounts of cash are shot out of a cannon.

Elon Musk, ensconced in Pittsburgh, was warned by the feds that promising $1 million to voters in a MAGA sweepstakes is probably illegal. Down in equally swingy Georgia, Tucker Carlson fantasized about Donald Trump giving the country a spanking like a “bad little girl.” And over in Delaware County, Kamala Harris said she shares the opinion of two four-star generals, who called Donald J. Trump a fascist.

Let’s not all faint at once, but the last item isn’t so loopy. Most Americans don’t quite know what a fascist is. But if it praises Hitler like a duck and calls migrants vermin who poison the blood of the motherland like a duck, it’s the closest thing to a goose-stepper we’ve had in a while. There’s nothing deranged about saying so.

Some people believe this brown shirt cosplay is a lib-owning skit. Unfortunately, Trump keeps insisting that he means exactly what he says. It’s so four years ago, bringing up how he couldn’t cope with his 2020 loss, but do ask him about it. The candidate would chisel off his tangerine exoskeleton before expressing regret.

This election’s October Surprise is more like an October Reminder. When Trump creepily called his top military advisors my generals, it sounded more like meine Generäle, which is German for Schatzi, I really mean it. In any case, the top brass is more or less in open revolt.

John Kelly, a retired Marine Corps general, Trump’s former chief of staff, and nobody’s idea of a squish, went on the record calling his ex-boss the F-word. “He’s certainly an authoritarian, admires people who are dictators,” Kelly told the New York Times. “So he certainly falls into the general definition of fascist, for sure.”

Retired General Mark Milley, the former head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, is more pointed in his definitions. He told Bob Woodward that Trump is a “fascist to the core” and “the most dangerous person to this country.”

Jeffrey Goldberg of the Atlantic has a camo-patterned notebook full of similar indictments. There’s Trump's bizarre need to put in a good word for the Third Reich, his crushes on sundry despots (he thinks strongman is a compliment), and his total mystification when it comes to notions of patriotism and honor.

“The military is a foreign country to him. He doesn’t understand the customs or codes,” retired General Barry McCaffrey told Goldberg. “It doesn’t penetrate. It starts with the fact that he thinks it’s foolish to do anything that doesn’t directly benefit himself.”

There’s more, of course: Trump’s contempt for wounded vets, POWs, and those who fell in battle. His breathtaking ignorance (he asked Kelly “Who were the good guys?” in World War I). His loyalty fixation (he believes Nazi generals adored the Führer, even though they tried to kill him). His unholy need for revenge (he wants to court martial officers who criticize him). His desire to gun down protestors, just like they do in China, according to Mike Esper, his former Secretary of Defense. All of which we’re supposed to dismiss like hot air from the Hindenburg.

Goldberg told

The Bulwark

that his military sources are “scared shitless” of another Trump presidency. Does such concern trickle down the chain of command? Could it furrow the right number of brows in Wilkes-Barre? Trump is betting that it’s just more stuff that won’t penetrate.


He's right about one thing—the way a fragmented mediascape reduces bombshells to fizzles. The Times released audio of Kelley’s interview, which is surely being repurposed as a Harris ad. No president in history has been the subject of such withering criticism from military commanders. Yet here we are, mired in a nip-and-tuck race. Everything dreadful about Trump is already priced in.

These days, too many Americans loathe journalism and reject information that isn’t algorithmically spoon-fed to them. Undecided voters don’t consult the Atlantic and the New York Times and haven’t a clue who Bob Woodward is. The funnels that once delivered such scoops to local markets have been ruptured. In their place, we have platforms like the one owned by the manic sweepstakes guy.

When this sort of news breaks, the usual excuse-makers run interference. But whatever the toadies say, Trump has been remarkably consistent. He has a 6-year-old’s conception of presidential power, a philosophy that can be distilled to I am the Boss of Everything. And he’d rather blow up the game than admit a loss.

This was evident from the moment he elbowed his way onto the American stage. In a crisis—Covid, January 6, Ukraine, Taiwan, the Middle East, whatever befalls the economy—Trump coddles his ego, whatever the cost. He has no vision beyond the latest grift and no obligation to a country that won’t hail him as The Leader. Nothing disgusts him more than saps who play by the rules.

If you expect such a rapacious character to behave differently, you really are a sucker.

Is Trump a fascist? He has no aptitude for ideology, but his instincts are textbook. He deliberately muddles the national interest with his self-interest. He has never met an authoritarian cliché he didn’t love—groveling sycophants, tanks in the streets, migrants as scum with bad genes, political opponents as the enemy within, the press as the enemy of the people, a violent attack on the Capitol brazenly spun as a Day of Love.

What are holdouts waiting for, armbands? It’s delusional to assume Trump could ever be gracious in defeat or statesmanlike in victory. He’s told us who he is.

It’s only human to pretend this is just another mundane horse race, in which ordinary candidates bicker about the marginal tax rate. Harris is a normal and flawed politician. Trump is something else.

The generals criticizing him are hamstrung by old rules. They’ve veiled their attacks by going through an establishment media now distrusted and ignored by vast numbers of Americans. Quotes to reporters won’t do; If you have met the most dangerous man in America, warn America to its face.

Kelly and other critics who’ve worn a uniform fret they’ll politicize the military by doing that. It’s a fair concern, but they were alarmed enough to speak up in the first place. If they don’t talk to the public in a forum where the charge is seen coming out of their mouths, their arguments are likely to be lost in a digital maelstrom.

Perhaps they’ve done enough. The F-word may squeak through a media thresher and land with voters in Erie and Scranton. But Trump would call that a sucker’s gambit.

Yours Ever,

M. Fenwick

International Incident

The Diplomat (Netflix). When last we left The Diplomat, Hal (Rufus Sewell), was caught in an explosion. Not to worry, that rascal is a survivor! His sort of ex-wife Kate (Keri Russell), remains the first ambassador to the Court of St James's never to deploy a comb. She’s sniffed out a political scandal—the British prime minister (Rory Kinnear) may have arranged an attack on a warship for political gain. We know this is major because people keep ominously intoning “The call is coming from inside the house.” Meanwhile, Allison Janney shows up as the U.S. vice president, a starchy dame role that allows her to lecture our heroine about brushing her hair.—Sally Adams

Tough Cookie

Martha (Netflix). Martha Stewart is not warm and fuzzy. This is supposed to mean that she was held back by being labeled a bitch—imagine if a man had acted like Martha! The problem with that spin is that Stewart has been mind-bogglingly successful by being precisely who she is. R.J. Cutler’s doc glides us through the story of a New Jersey striver who went from model to stockbroker to housewife to caterer to billionaire lifestyle doyenne, with a brief stop in federal prison along the way. It’s fun to watch Cutler joust with Stewart, who bristles like an infantry division when confronted by an impertinent question. Her line about putting her prosecutors in a Cuisinart is too on the nose, but she plays it to the hilt.—S.A. Nivens

Give ‘Em Enough Pope

Conclave (Theaters). Cruising into theaters with smells, bells, and awards buzz, Edward Berger’s adaptation of Richard Harris’s Vatican thriller follows Cardinal Lawrence (Oscar Bait Ralph Fiennes) as he wrangles church dignitaries to select a new pontiff after the death of the last Holy Father. The assembled cardinals (John Lithgow, Stanley Tucci, and Sergio Castellitto, among others), are a nest of scarlet-robed serpents. Intrigue and scandal are tucked into every ornately decorated nook. A very capable Isabella Rossellini heads up a battalion of nuns. Brace yourself for the ending.—Gabrielle van der Mal

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