


There are a lot of people who find Donald Trump charming — charming and endearing. I know many such people (not a few of whom work in the media). Is this charming? In a recent campaign speech, Trump said, “The polls are all rigged. Of course, lately they haven’t been rigged because I’m winning by so much.”
Charm is in the eye of the beholder, maybe we could say. But charming or not, that’s Trump’s move: If he’s behind in the polls, the polls are rigged. If he loses an election, the election was rigged.
January 6 was many things, but not charming.
• How about this — charming?
To some of us, this is despicable. It is not something you want in a leader, a president. Not something you want in a teacher, coach, or neighbor. Not something you want in anyone.
In a way, the fundamental question has not changed since the summer of 2015: Is Donald Trump fit to be president, in mind and character? Millions say yes, millions say no. The stalemate continues.
I have a friend who told me something interesting: “At church, we know people who won’t watch most movies, or most television shows, on the grounds that they are immoral. Yet they love Donald Trump, thinking him a good, moral, and admirable man.”
Yes. I know such people too. I know people who would never let their children mock a stutter — but who won’t hear a word against Donald Trump.
This matter may reside in the realm of psychology, rather than politics.
• Mike Pence, you may have heard, has declined to endorse Trump for president. This is remarkable. Many of the top people who worked under Trump — including members of the cabinet — will not endorse him either. I wonder whether this has ever happened. Or whether it will matter, come November.
I have my criticisms of Pence, naturally. But he went to Ukraine in the summer of 2023, when he was running for president — the presidential nomination of the Republican Party. He went to Ukraine to express his solidarity with that nation under siege. He went knowing it would do him no good — quite the opposite — with the Republican electorate. And now, he has refused to endorse Trump.
Both of those things, in my opinion, demonstrate integrity.
• An Associated Press report out of São Paulo begins,
Two top Brazilian military leaders declared to police that former President Jair Bolsonaro presented them a plan for him to remain in power after the 2022 election he lost, but both refused and warned him they would arrest him if he tried it, according to judicial documents released Friday.
Again: integrity, in a critical situation.
• Bolsonaro is a darling of our populist Right in America, as is the Hungarian leader, Viktor Orbán. For example, CPAC has held its shows in both Brazil and Hungary, under the wings of Bolsonaro and Orbán.
On the campaign trail in New Hampshire, Trump said, “There’s a great man, a great leader, in Europe, Viktor Orbán. He’s the prime minister of Hungary. He’s a very great leader, very strong man. Some people don’t like him because he’s too strong. It’s nice to have a strong man running your country.”
(Whether Trump said “strong man” or “strongman” is up to you.)
Campaigning in Ohio on Saturday, Trump said, “Viktor Orbán, the prime minister of Hungary. Very tough man, probably the toughest guy there is, frankly. Toughest in Europe. A lot of people don’t like him because he’s tough.”
Well, don’t forget Lukashenko, the dictator of Belarus. He is “tough,” as Trump thinks of “tough.” He is “strong,” as Trump thinks of “strong.”
My hope is that the American Right, broadly speaking, will recover a decent understanding of strength — and of patriotism and other things. There is work to do.
• Andrés Manuel López Obrador is the president of Mexico, and a populist par excellence. In a column, León Krauze quotes a statement by the president — a statement Krauze describes as “revealing”: “The political and moral authority of the president of Mexico is above the law.”
That is a very clear, very straightforward, expression of populism.
• Elsewhere, Pete Wehner writes, “As a young man, I was influenced by conservative intellectuals like George Will, Irving Kristol and James Q. Wilson.”
Oh, join the club, baby.
• I never label anything “must read.” Every day, a thousand articles are labeled “must read.” And the phrase — the command, in a way — dissolves into insignificance. But I can say that I never want to miss anything by David Horovitz. He is an Israeli journalist, born and raised in England, who founded the Times of Israel. I did a podcast with him in August 2015 (here). He is a very cool head, even on hot topics, or especially on them.
Last week, he published a piece about Israel, Gaza, and the United States — considering various issues, making a number of points. I recommend it, obviously: here.
• Let me stay in the recommending mode. Howard Jacobson, the British novelist (and journalist), has written a piece titled “Who dares to ‘hijack’ the Holocaust?” Here.
• From Michael Walzer, there is “Even the Oppressed Have Obligations.” (Subheading: “Not every act of resistance is justified.”) That piece has so much to chew on, you could eat for a month. Walzer does just what the political philosopher ought to do.
• A recent column by David French is headed “Harvard, M.I.T. and Systemic Antisemitism.” He writes,
I spent virtually my entire legal career defending free speech on campus, including the free speech of Muslim students and staff members. I’ve also walked through metal detectors at a tense and volatile Columbia University to defend the academic freedom of Jewish students challenging antisemitic statements made by university professors. And during those decades of litigation and my subsequent years in journalism, I have never seen such comprehensive abuse directed against a vulnerable campus minority group as I’ve seen directed at Jewish students and faculty since Hamas’s terror attack on Oct. 7.
• Mona Charen has written a column about the killing of U.S. citizens by illegal immigrants, and the politics of such crimes. I myself wrote a piece on the same topic in September 2018: “Two Corpses in Iowa.”
• Those are some pretty grave and weighty subjects. Maybe I can “pivot” to something lighter — namely, language. A sports report tells us,
The Celtics put up a historic first half against the Golden State Warriors en route to a 140-88 drubbing of the team that defeated them two seasons ago in the NBA Finals. With the win, they became the first team in NBA history to win three regular-season games by 50 points or more. They did so while sitting their starters for the majority of the second half.
What’s wrong with that final sentence? You’re right: “Majority” is for countable things, such as oranges. Or points. Or people. But with something like “second half,” you need “most” — “most of the second half.”
Here is an old, old issue: Because people don’t know how to use “I” and “me” correctly, they say “myself,” thinking they’re off the hook. But no — because they have used “myself” incorrectly.
A basketball coach said he was “excited for what lies ahead” for his family “and myself.”
Oh, Coach! Please go ahead and say “me”! “My family and me”! (In other words, “us”). (“My family and me” goes with “us”; “my family and I” goes with “we.”)
• Maybe we can have some music. For a review of the pianist Jan Lisiecki in recital, go here. And for a review of the New York Philharmonic — conducted by Jaap van Zweden, with Conrad Tao as piano soloist — go here.
In my review of Lisiecki, I tell a story — or retell it. Here I go again:
In the summer of 2012, I was driving from Ann Arbor, Michigan — Ypsilanti, to be precise — to Detroit Metro Airport (a short trip). I was listening to the CBC, i.e., Canadian radio. On the air was a piano recital, devoted to Chopin. The playing was arresting: smart, clean, and beautiful. Who was the pianist? I was hoping I could find out before reaching the airport.
It turned out to be someone unknown to me: Jan Lisiecki, a Canadian of Polish parentage. (This could explain the taste for Chopin.) And he was seventeen years old.
Today, he is 28 (with his birthday coming up in a few days).
That concert of the New York Philharmonic ended with Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5. I had a few general thoughts as I wound down my review:
Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony suffers from overfamiliarity, perhaps. That is not its fault. Say you had never heard the symphony and knew nothing about its reputation and heard it for the first time. What would you say? Would you say, “That’s the greatest piece of music ever written”? Possibly. And you would not be far off.
I often quote Robert Graves (or paraphrase him): “The thing about Shakespeare is, he really is good.”
I quote another Robert, too — Robert Shaw. When conducting a great and famous work, he would often say at the final rehearsal: “Remember: There will be people in the audience hearing the piece for the first time. And the last time. Make it good.”
• Yesterday was St. Patrick’s Day. My annual tradition is to offer a recording of “Danny Boy” by Matthew Polenzani, the American tenor. I did so yesterday, on Twitter (or “X”). I loved a response: “My mom is Irish and the song is how I got my name. That and my dad not liking the name Sean.”
• Hitcha with some pictures? Where I live, there are portents of spring. Here are some shots of Central Park:



Spring won’t be defied. It will come no matter what, bearing its loveliness, and hopefulness. Have a good week, y’all.
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