National Journal
By Tim Alberta
August 27, 2015
Four
days after Donald Trump drew tens of thousands of supporters to a
modest, multipurpose football arena in this state, Ted Cruz stood 200
miles away inside a glass-enclosed
suite overlooking the north end zone inside legendary Denny-Bryant
Stadium. Here, in the home of the Alabama Crimson Tide, Cruz offered
blistering critiques identical to those delivered by Trump—a nation in
decline, an immigration crisis, a government corrupted
by career politicians in both parties.
Yet
Cruz, speaking to several hundred suit-and-tie Republicans at a plated
dinner, offered key distinctions of style and substance. In a rhetorical
routine perfected in
Ivy League debate competitions and arguments before the Supreme Court,
Cruz told his audience to beware of "campaign conservatives" who "talk a
good game" while running for office. It's not enough to diagnose the
problems ailing America; Republicans can only
win, Cruz said, if they nominate "a consistent conservative" with a
proven track record.
It
wasn't difficult, on the heels of a Trump event that left the state
buzzing, for attendees to pick up the message Cruz was laying down: It's
great that Trump is exciting
the electorate and drawing voters' attention to conservative causes.
Just don't expect those causes to be championed by a candidate who long
supported liberal politics before making a recent conversion to
conservatism.
"Trump's
message is resonating with people. They're upset about a lot of things,
and he expresses the frustration they feel. But if they examine his
stances on a whole
range of issues, they'd find they are in disagreement with him," said
Bill Stewart, the retired chairman of Alabama's political-science
department, who sat in on Cruz's speech. "In the end, I think Trump will
have generated the interest—and then Cruz will
benefit from it."
This
is precisely the endgame that Cruz and his team now visualize. It
explains why Cruz has cozied up to Trump at a time when most of the
Republican political class shunned
him. It explains why the Texas senator refuses to utter a negative word
about the real-estate mogul. And it explains why Cruz is stalking
Trump—if not geographically (the Alabama trips were coincidence) then
ideologically and rhetorically, making sure the
two stay in lockstep on issues of the day so that voters who are
energized by Trump's message but looking for a more polished messenger
discover a natural transition to Cruz.
From
the top down, in fact, Cruz's campaign has come to view Trump as an
asset. Equipped with universal name-identification and celebrity appeal,
Trump has a megaphone
that Cruz could never dream of—even from his perch in Congress—to
preach a fiery populism to angry voters. He has demonstrated a unique
ability to galvanize conservatives (Cruz's base) and steer the 2016
conversation toward subjects like illegal immigration
(Cruz's wheelhouse) that may otherwise have been secondary.
"The
media dismissed illegal immigration as a problem, and because of Donald
Trump they're actually talking about illegal immigration. I think that
is very beneficial
to our campaign," Cruz told me after the event in Tuscaloosa. "Because
once the conversation shifts to illegal immigration, the discussion
naturally turns to 'What is the record of the different candidates when
it comes to standing up and fighting to stop
illegal immigration?' I've been leading the fight to stop illegal
immigration—and my record is markedly different from other Republican
candidates in that regard."
Or,
as one Cruz adviser put it: "Without Trump in the race, we'd be having a
nice debate over tax policy right now. Instead we're talking about
'anchor babies.'"
Riding
in a rented Chevy Equinox along Interstate-20 from Tuscaloosa to
Birmingham, Cruz repeatedly declined to say whether Trump was one such
GOP rival he had differences
with. He said there are "seasons to a campaign" and hinted that he
would soon be adopting a more aggressive approach in drawing contrasts
with his opponents. But Cruz made it clear that he won't be picking a
fight with Trump anytime soon.
"Many
of the Republican candidates have gone out of their way to take a
two-by-four to Donald Trump," Cruz said, smiling. "I think that's a
mistake."
IN
THE COURSE of an hourlong conversation, Cruz refused at least five
opportunities to offer any policy distinction with Trump. Sipping
black-raspberry-flavored sparkling
water and wearing glasses after a long day on the trail, Cruz appeared
fatigued but also wary of going off-message when it came to questions
about the man he now sometimes refers to simply as "Donald."
The
closest thing to a critique came when I asked Cruz whether he agreed
that Trump has "leverage" over the GOP. "I don't know. I am grateful he
is focusing the media's
attention on illegal immigration, and I'm grateful he's causing more
and more people to pay attention to this race," Cruz said. "I also
believe at the end of the day, that Republican primary voters are going
to look for a consistent conservative, someone who
has walked the walk—who has been a fiscal conservative, a social
conservative, a national security conservative, and who has the record
to demonstrate that consistency."
The
Cruz camp is confident that Trump's candidacy will have a natural arc,
that eventually political gravity will pull his numbers down, and that
when it happens, Cruz
will be ideally positioned to absorb his current supporters.
Yet
the senator did not hesitate to comment on other primary
opponents—Marco Rubio and Jeb Bush—that he differs with on immigration,
among other issues. (In the ultimate
backhanded compliment, Cruz said of Bush: "I will commend him for his
candor. He has been quite explicit embracing positions on amnesty, on
Common Core, that are markedly out of step with where Republican primary
voters are.")
Asked
about the inconsistency of making those remarks about Bush while
insisting that it's presently inappropriate to comment on Trump, Cruz
took a long pause. "There
will come a time as the campaign moves forward when additional policy
differences may well be merited," he said. "I don't believe we're in
that phase of the campaign."
Cruz
admitted that he has "bent over backwards" to avoid insulting Trump.
Asked for an explanation, the senator avoided any talk of strategy and
instead pointed to the
people behind this summer's Trump phenomenon.
"Donald
Trump is attracting significant crowds and significant passion of
people who are ticked off at Washington and fed up with politicians who
say one thing and do
another. I don't think it's beneficial when those politicians deride
those people as 'crazies,'" Cruz said, referencing a remark made by Sen.
John McCain. "I'd like for every one of those people to show up in
November 2016 and be knocking on doors and making
phone calls and sending emails."
It's
a valid point, especially from a candidate who argues regularly that
the McCain and Mitt Romney lost in 2008 and 2012 because they did not
energize the base. Now
that Trump appears to be doing just that, Cruz advisers feel strongly
that an attack on Trump is tantamount to an attack on the people at his
rallies.
But there's a simpler explanation for why Cruz isn't attacking Trump: He doesn't think he needs to.
The
Cruz camp is confident that Trump's candidacy will have a natural arc,
that eventually political gravity will pull his numbers down, and that
when it happens, Cruz
will be ideally positioned to absorb his current supporters. In the
meantime, Trump will sustain plenty of attacks from other opponents. And
as an added bonus for Cruz's hands-off approach, Trump is doing his
dirty work. The real-estate mogul has been especially
harsh lately on Scott Walker, long considered by Cruz's camp to be
their most direct competition in Iowa because of his appeal to both
evangelicals and tea-partiers.
Most
consequentially, Cruz allies see Trump on a collision course with
Bush—especially in New Hampshire, the state Bush needs to win and where
Trump's numbers and organization
are strongest—and predict that "Armageddon" between those two
candidates would greatly weaken both the establishment favorite and the
anti-establishment front-runner.
There
is a downside to Trump's candidacy, of course. Cruz understands that
Trump is denying him political oxygen at the moment, and is making the
senator's stated goal—uniting
the conservative vote in order to eventually defeat Bush or whoever
consolidates the moderate vote—considerably harder. But Cruz and his
team have concluded that an alliance with Trump is not only smart, but
necessary, in this game of political survivor.
"I
don't think they see each other as rivals at this point. I think
they're allies, actually," said Brent Bozell, the prominent conservative
activist who endorsed Cruz
last month. "Now at the end of the day, this thing is going to get
winnowed down. And it's like two friends who are heavyweight boxers: If
they end up No. 1 and No. 2, of course they're going to duke it out."
CRUZ'S
INNER CIRCLE doesn't foresee any such a scenario, because they simply
do not see an organization to harness the energy Trump is generating on
the stump.
Part
of their calculus in taking a hands-off approach to Trump is that his
massive crowds and wall-to-wall media coverage has not translated into a
strong grassroots presence
needed to compete in the early primary states. This was visible last
week, Cruz advisers pointed out, when a handful of candidates showed up
for an event in South Carolina. Virtually every GOP contender, including
those not present, had volunteers there holding
up signs and handing out literature—and there wasn't a single piece of
Trump signage to be seen or found.
Cruz
lags far behind Trump in terms of national name-identification, but he
has no shortage of grassroots support in the early states. His "Rally
for Religious Liberty"
in Des Moines last week drew upwards of 2,500 people attending the
event, making it one of the largest political events in Iowa this year.
"A
lot of people will come to watch Donald Trump rant and rave. I don't
know how many of those people will come out when it's cold as a witch's
tit on a February night
to a church or high school to vote," said Steve Deace, a conservative
Iowa radio host who endorsed Cruz last week and then emceed the Des
Moines event. "I know this: Every one of those 3,000 people Cruz drew to
his rally on Friday, every single one of those
people is going to caucus."
This
explains why, despite Trump overshadowing the race this summer, Cruz
views his path to victory as essentially unchanged since launching his
campaign in March at Liberty
University.
The
senator has always envisioned consolidating the evangelical and
tea-party wings of the GOP behind his campaign, armed with an
uncompromising record on the core issues
that appeal to both. Not only do Cruz allies believe Trump will
struggle to convert admirers into voters; they think his record, once
scrutinized, will repel those conservative voters currently supporting
him.
Cruz
and his allies predict that, come fall, Cruz will begin to reap the
anti-establishment sentiment sewn by the Summer of Trump, especially in
Iowa. The evangelical
lane there is crowded, but Cruz's next battle—a bloody fight next month
over defunding Planned Parenthood that could lead to another government
shutdown—is an opportunity for the senator to set himself apart.
Another
key component of Cruz's strategy has been to win endorsements from
conservative leaders, in theory producing a trickle-down effect that,
when paired with Cruz's
own grassroots organizing, would produce a "unified movement" behind
him. The early endorsements of Bozell and Deace could foreshadow bigger
catches to come. Indeed, there is mounting speculation within the
conservative movement that several major players
are poised to line up behind Cruz this fall. Nationally, the biggest
target is Tony Perkins, president of the Family Research Council. And in
Iowa, all eyes are on two people: evangelical leader Bob Vander Plaats
and Rep. Steve King, whose two closest political
lieutenants, including his son, Jeff, both recently signed on with a
pro-Cruz super PAC.
Cruz
is thought to be the favorite of both kingmakers. Trump, on the other
hand isn't likely to receive consideration from either—yet another
reason for Cruz to hold his
fire on Trump. "If they both endorse Cruz, he's going to win Iowa,"
Deace said of King and Vander Plaats. "Guaranteed."
Meanwhile,
back in Alabama Tuesday night, Cruz was working on another endorsement.
Mo Brooks, the conservative congressman who has allied himself with
Cruz and King against
immigration-reform efforts, was honored by the Tuscaloosa County GOP's
Republican of the Year. The two lawmakers shared the stage and traded
flatteries before a dark-red audience that appeared enamored of both.
Brooks
told me afterward he hasn't made up his mind whom to endorse—despite
comparing Cruz to Ronald Reagan—and admitted he has been captivated by
the Trump phenomenon.
"Hyperbole
is a very important part of politics. And Donald Trump, to his credit,
is a master of hyperbole," Brooks said. "He has celebrity status, and
people flock to
see celebrities. But as time goes by, people will look closer at a
candidate's history. And Ted Cruz has a track record."