It’s difficult to describe historical moments as they’re unfolding, but let me hazard a few initial observations about former President Donald Trump’s speech at the Republican National Convention on Thursday night.
Watching a presidential candidate (and former president) describe his near-assassination less than a week after a bullet came within millimeters of ending his life is quite simply the most captivating, awe-inspiring thing that has ever happened at a political convention in this country.
“I will tell you exactly what happened, and you’ll never hear it from me a second time because it’s actually too painful to tell,” Trump said.
In a calm, almost somber tone, Trump recounted in detail his near-death experience to a breathless watching world. “I’m not supposed to be here,” he said, attributing his survival to “the grace of Almighty God.” Many in attendance, and not a few watching at home, were in tears as Trump told his tale. He described getting shot in the ear, the blood running down his face, and the Secret Service agents shielding him. Again he invoked divine providence: “There was blood pouring, and yet, in a certain way, I felt very safe because I had God on my side.”
Then he described the crowd’s reaction: They didn’t run, they didn’t stampede. They were worried about him, Trump said, afraid he might be badly wounded — or worse. Trump said he wanted to show them he was all right, that he wasn’t going anywhere. So he stood up, raised his fist, and shouted, “Fight! Fight! Fight!” When he said this, the crowd at the convention echoed him in chorus.
Perhaps the most poignant, moving moment of the speech came shortly after, when Trump eulogized Corey Comperatore, the local Pennsylvania man who was struck by a stray bullet from the shooter and died in front of his wife and two daughters at the rally. “He lost his life selflessly acting as a human shield to protect them from flying bullets,” Trump said. “He went right over the top of them and was hit. What a fine man he was.”
Before Trump took the stage, two people rolled out Comperatore’s firefighter helmet and jacket, and at one point Trump walked over and kissed the helmet, then asked the crowd for a moment of silence to honor his memory.
Then he said: “There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for others. This is the spirit that forged America in her darkest hours, and this is the love that will lead America back to the summit of human achievement and greatness. This is what we need. Despite such a heinous attack, we unite this evening, more determined than ever. I am more determined than ever, and so are you. So is everybody.”
Again, nothing like this has ever happened at a political convention in America. It was a remarkable, almost unbelievable moment in American politics.
In fact, the whole convention, coming less than a week after the assassination attempt, had an air of myth, of the spirit of divine providence — a palpable sense that, as one commentator on X put it, we are “caught in the tide of larger shores.” Earlier in the day, the convention opened with a prayer to Saint Michael the Archangel, a traditional Catholic prayer for protection against “the wickedness and snares of the devil.” Later, the Rev. Franklin Graham offered a prayer for the nation and for Trump.
That is not to say the convention as a whole was explicitly Christian. Indeed, it was in some ways less Christian than GOP conventions of the past. Much has been made of the decision to remove language about ending abortion from the Republican Party platform. And more than a few commentators on the right noted distinctly pagan and nonconservative elements of the convention, like the Hindu prayer and the choice to platform Amber Rose.
But there was nevertheless an air of something larger at work at the convention, as indeed there has been these last week in America. At one point in the evening, Tucker Carlson gave a few unscripted remarks about what’s happened in the last month, how in his view “everything was different” after the assassination attempt. He suggested something is happening right now that seems bigger than mere politics. “I think even people that don’t believe in God are beginning to think, well, maybe there’s something to this actually,” he said, and closed by saying, “God is among us right now, and I think that’s enough.”
Tucker is right, events are unfolding that seem to go beyond mere politics. Something is moving in America and among its people, and we are not in control of it.
At the end of over an hour of speaking, Trump closed with an appeal to set our bitterness and divisions aside and “come together” to move forward as “one people” — eschewing the recriminations and outrage that his detractors might have expected of him after surviving an assassination attempt.
“Tonight I ask for your partnership, for your support, and I am humbly asking for your vote,” he said. “To all of the forgotten men and women who have been neglected, abandoned, and left behind, you will be forgotten no longer. We will press forward, and together we will win, win, win.”
But Trump also said something else, circling back to his opening theme: divine providence. He said, “Just a few short days ago, my journey with you nearly ended. And yet here we are tonight, all gathered together, talking about the future, promise, and renewal of America. We live in a world of miracles. None of us knows God’s plan or where life’s adventure will take us. But if the events of last Saturday make anything clear, it is that every single moment we have on Earth is a gift from God. We have to make the most of every day for the people and country we love.”
We live in a world of miracles. None of us knows God’s plans. Every moment we have is a gift from God. All of this is true. They are the sort of things nearly every American professed openly only a few generations ago, but they are not the sort of things you would ordinarily expect to hear at an American political party convention.
These, however, are not ordinary times. They are times shot through with providence and history and wonder. And where they lead only God knows.