While the failure of Donald Trump becomes increasingly clear as this election draws to a close, political commentators have begun to pick apart the corpse of his radical, thunderous, and ultimately empty platform in hopes to determining how on earth he ever captured the interests of American conservatives. While young voters like myself are tempted to equate Trump's monstrosity to our favorite boogieman, the Republican party at large, it is important that we realize that the GOP itself did not want Trump to be its messiah, and is now on the verge of fracturing internally in the wake of his rampage. It has never been a secret that a older, aggressively narrow-minded swathe of Americans has always been drawn to the GOP since it replaced the Democrats as the dominant political force in the American south - yet educated fiscal conservatives, moderate evangelicals, and all manner of culturally reserved peoples have also identified with the Republican party. Trump's style is more in line with a relatively recent conservative movement, the so-called 'alternative right', which revels in the anonymity and echo-chamber qualities of the internet to regress into open, speculative hatred.
The Republican Party, however, has not previously shown an interest in even shining a spotlight on the alt-right, let alone letting a candidate who operates on alt-right principles (that is to say, no principles) come to represent it to the country and the world. This is not random speculation by a generous liberal trying to play devil's advocate - in a postmortem of the failed 2012 presidential campaign of Mitt Romney, party leaders described several key takeaways in a report to the public. Reince Priebus, the chairman of the party, acknowledged that "focus groups described our party as narrow-minded, out of touch and, quote, "stuffy old men." The perception that we're the party of the rich, unfortunately, continues to grow," and specifically noted that "our message was weak. Our ground game was insufficient. We weren't inclusive." Sally Bradshaw, a Republican advisor, elaborated that the they "have to be a more welcoming party", especially in regards to minority voters.
Given that this was the party's game plan following 2012, it makes sense why the GOP seemed frantic to slow Trumps momentum during the primaries. He represents a startling regression from the limited progress the party had made at least on paper - openly anti-Hispanic, divisive and uncalculated. Now, Trump's rise (and fall) have flung America's elephant by its trunk into the murky and inescapable bog of regressive politics. This identity crisis may die with Trump's candidacy - or it may continue, perhaps even deepen, as alt-right successors wiggle into the political sphere, emboldened by their star. The candidate who rallied one of the most aggressively conservative moments in modern American history may have given his own party a future wrought with division and uncertainty.
