Donald Trump got a hero’s welcome from the loyalists who had gathered to once again nominate him for president Monday. All evening long, speakers like Marjorie Taylor Greene, Glenn Youngkin, Tim Scott, Katie Britt, Kristi Noem, and other MAGA stars had sung his praises to the rafters—and inveighed against his opponent, President Joe Biden. But most of the Trump supporters here at the Republican National Convention seemed to be waiting for one thing: the former president himself.
When the jumbotron finally cut to him, nearly four hours into the evening session at the Fiserv Forum, the arena erupted. He wore a bandage on his ear, where he’d be injured two days earlier in a shooting. He pumped his fist and waved to the screaming audience as he took the stage, as Lee Greenwood sang, “God Bless The USA.” He mouthed “thank you” to the crowd and greeted his sons, Eric and Don Jr., and others in the VIP section, like right-wing media star Tucker Carlson and Representative Byron Donalds. Then, he took a seat and listened to the remaining speakers, including the model and rapper Amber Rose, express their support for him.
It was his first major public appearance since Trump survived an assassination attempt at a Pennsylvania rally Saturday, and came as he named Ohio Senator J.D. Vance—a critic turned staunch ally—his running mate against Biden and Kamala Harris. Vance arrived on the convention floor to “America First” by Merle Haggard, which played twice as he embraced members of his state delegation. Ohio Lieutenant Governor Jon Husted, in nominating Vance, said Trump’s running mate must have an “America First attitude in his heart”—something former Vice President Mike Pence, who certified the 2020 election in defiance of his boss’s orders three and a half years ago, apparently did not have. “J.D. is such a man,” Husted said, as the crowd chanted Vance’s name.
The fanfare for Vance—who is scheduled to speak Wednesday—was enthusiastic, and yet it paled in comparison to the applause Trump got. The former president is due to give his formal acceptance speech on Thursday evening, which he says he has rewritten following the shooting. He vowed to show up Monday as planned because he “cannot allow a ‘shooter,’ or potential assassin, to force change to scheduling, or anything else.”
“He is here to show his courage,” Greenwood said between verses. “You will not take him out!”
Of course, Trump was always going to get such a rhapsodic reaction. Outside the Fiserv Forum, sweating in a scrum of people watching demonstrators go by, I talked to a member of the Iowa delegation, who predicted that the crowd’s post-shooting enthusiasm for Trump would rival the “rah-rah” spirit he said he saw in American servicemembers after 9/11. “I don’t think they’ll be able to shut these people up for ten, fifteen minutes” when Trump takes the stage, he said, as a crowd of about 1,000 protesters marched by chanting, “Fuck Donald Trump! Fuck Donald Trump!”
The Trump rally shooting—which left one dead and three others, including the former president, injured—cast the convention in a layer of tension. But inside the Milwaukee Bucks arena, the unease gave way to a mood of celebration—a sense, among those gathered in Trump cowboy hats and flag-sportcoats so tight the stars seem about to burst off the lapels, that their return to power is imminent. “Fight, fight, fight!” the faithful cheered as delegates officially threw their support behind Trump, referring to his rallying cry as he left the Pennsylvania campaign stage bloodied Saturday.
The convention, Republican National Committee Chair Michael Whatley told attendees, will be “the biggest and best convention in the history of the Republican Party.” The crowd went wild for a video montage of Trump dancing, set to the YMCA. “We are here to party for America!” the country singer Chris Janson yelled, as he launched into another number.
Not everyone got a warm welcome. When Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell—the architect of the right-wing Supreme Court—spoke as part of the roll-call for Trump’s nomination, he was loudly booed by the crowd. But in general, the celebrants seemed willing to put aside the divides that had roiled their party as recently as a couple months ago.
“Speaker, speaker, can I get a picture?” a woman asked as a short, bespectacled, buttoned-up man walked past her in the concourse.
“I’m not the speaker,” he said.
“Oh! You look just like him!” The man did look more than a little like Mike Johnson. But the actual speaker was on the convention floor, formally announcing Trump as the GOP nominee—for the third straight cycle. Yes, it’s Trump’s party still—and, here in Milwaukee, it’s raging.
