Hubris and excitement are no substitutes for a practical plan to win.

I have been following American politics since I was a kid in the Carter era, and I’ve been part of the so-called “Stupid Party” for that long. So, I’ve had the opportunity to witness a lot of different politicians, and specifically a lot of Republican politicians at various levels of government, make self-destructive mistakes. Some have been mistakes of cowardice, some of overreach, and some of misjudgment of reality. But I’m not sure that I’ve ever seen such an obvious mistake, with such clear potential for catastrophe, as Donald Trump’s decision to launch a simultaneous trade war against every country on earth.

It’s not certain that this will end in economic or political catastrophe. Trump may once again back down faster and further than the screaming headlines from supporters and opponents predict. Other governments may throw concessions at him to get him to drop the pistol pointed at his own temple. But you really do not want to make decisions in government and politics that will lead to disaster unless you back down, in the hopes that somebody else who doesn’t absolutely have to bail you out will do so. When you fight on every front simultaneously, it’s harder to isolate your foes and easier to engender coalitions against you.

Trump came into office enjoying the strongest mandate he’s had since entering politics. He could use that for a lot of things Republicans have traditionally wanted, and for a lot of things that his new coalition wants. He started off his term by doing quite a bit of that, most of which is far from complete. Like it or not, he will still need allies — allies in Congress, favorable or at least non-hostile treatment from the appellate courts, and cooperation from foreign governments and domestic business. All of that derives from perceptions of power, and power in a democracy turns heavily on popularity. If Trump, having been elected in good part due to the suicidally bad decisions of Democrats to go on a money-printing spree into the teeth of inflationary pressures, presses forward with his determination to raise prices on consumer goods via massive tax hikes and drive the economy onto the rocks, it will have grave consequences for his ability to do much else. He will be undone, not by his enemies, but by his own hubris in victory.

Worst of all, Trump seems to be taking the George Costanza approach – think of what you’d normally do, then do the opposite – to the economic policies that succeeded so well in his first presidential term, helping build the coalition he now has.

My mood, and the mood I’m seeing among longtime Republicans at the moment, puts me in mind of Sam Houston in the spring of 1861. Nobody was more Texan than Sam Houston. An old friend and ally of Andrew Jackson, Houston was fundamentally a Southern man, proud of his region and far from an abolitionist on the question of slavery. He had proven his commitment, in the war to secede from Mexico, to the principle that Texas could separate itself from a nation that did not respect the rights of Texans. But he was also a Jacksonian, and that meant being devoted to the American Union, as Jackson had been in 1832. Most of the veteran Jacksonians left in politics in the fevered atmosphere of secession in late 1860 and early 1861 stood with the Union, and not the movement to secede and form the Confederacy. As Texas governor, Houston (then 68 years old) was in a position that demanded he take a stand. He did everything in his power to slow the secession train, and when the moment of decision came in March 1861, he warned his fellow Texans that even if his heart went with them, he could not, because he saw that they were making a terrible mistake. While he would not aid the Union war effort, he refused to take an oath of allegiance to the Confederacy, a stand for which he was removed from office and retired from public life. As he declared:

Fellow-Citizens, in the name of your rights and liberties, which I believe have been trampled upon, I refuse to take this oath. In the name of the nationality of Texas, which has been betrayed by the Convention, I refuse to take this oath. In the name of the Constitution of Texas, I refuse to take this oath. In the name of my own conscience and manhood, which this Convention would degrade by dragging me before it, to pander to the malice of my enemies, I refuse to take this oath. I deny the power of this Convention to speak for Texas. . . . I protest . . . against all the acts and doings of this convention and I declare them null and void.

Along the way home, in mid-April as the fighting began, he issued his darkest warning:

Let me tell you what is coming. After the sacrifice of countless millions of treasure and hundreds of thousands of lives, you may win Southern independence if God be not against you, but I doubt it. I tell you that, while I believe with you in the doctrine of states rights, the North is determined to preserve this Union. They are not a fiery, impulsive people as you are, for they live in colder climates. But when they begin to move in a given direction, they move with the steady momentum and perseverance of a mighty avalanche; and what I fear is, they will overwhelm the South.

The firebrands thought Houston was a man past his time, stuck in the old politics of a dead president. But he was right. Hubris and excitement were no substitutes for a practical plan to win. They still are not today.