Donald Trump's visit to Washington on Wednesday had all the hallmarks of his first term. There was the cable-news pageantry of Trump Force One's arrival in and departure from D.C. There was a cordial and reassuring meeting in the Oval Office between Trump and President Biden. There was the reelection of Speaker Mike Johnson within the House GOP and an orderly transfer of leadership to a new generation of Senate Republicans. And there was mounting shock, disbelief, and alarm within the bipartisan political class at Trump's selections for secretary of defense, director of national intelligence, attorney general, and secretary of health and human services.
Four years of the somnolent, garbled, and often out-of-sight Joe Biden, accompanied by the vacant and aloof Kamala Harris, had dulled the senses. By dawn Thursday, some of us were beginning to recall the unrelenting nature of Trump's first administration: a near-constant gale of news, hot takes, controversies, scandals, policies, personalities, and surprises. Reporters, commentators, wonks, bureaucrats, and elected officials are left searching for ballast. The situation is unlikely to change in the coming months. Why? Because the Trump whirlwind has returned.
There are, however, some important differences between the current moment and eight years ago. In 2016, Trump was a political neophyte. He was the first president without government experience or a military background. He had won a plurality of the vote in a lengthy, bitter, and divisive Republican primary, then won the Electoral College while losing the popular vote.
Trump's victory wasn't just a shock to the system. It often seemed like a shock to him. He had few committed allies in Congress or inside the Beltway. He junked the initial transition plan for an improvised reality television show where job prospects appeared in the lobby of Trump Tower on the way to audition for the president-elect. Trump toyed with Mitt Romney as secretary of state, then chose Rex Tillerson. He put Omarosa in charge of communications for the Office of Public Liaison.
Fast-forward eight years. Not only is Trump older. He is more experienced. He understands the presidency and its powers. He steamrolled the opposition in the primaries and, most significantly, is on track to win the popular vote in the general election. His reconfiguration of the GOP gives him a large pool of talent from which to draw. There is less debate today over what the Make America Great Again movement stands for, who belongs to it, how it wants to pursue national renewal. The Republican Party is unified and will control all three branches of government.
As I write, the most striking aspect of the second Trump transition is its speed. Since naming Susie Wiles as his chief of staff last week, Trump has filled out his White House team and cabinet much more quickly than before. His criteria for hires are plain: loyalty, strong communications skills, and affiliation with MAGA. The transition shares a sensibility with the campaign. It is slick, professional, brash, and confident enough to take risks.
The risky moves have names. The Donald Trump-Elon Musk mind-meld may provoke, or may have already provoked, complications and backlash. Pete Hegseth would be a telegenic disruptor at the Defense Department—and quite possibly a one-man recruitment machine—but is he prepared to lead the largest and most unwieldy organization in the United States? Tulsi Gabbard and Matt Gaetz and Robert F. Kennedy Jr. will face strict scrutiny before the Senate approves their nominations to be, respectively, director of national intelligence, attorney general, and secretary of health and human services. The Senate has a constitutional role and responsibility to provide advice and consent to the president. It is, as they say, the federal government's human resources department.
And the Senate may not deem Gabbard, Gaetz, and Kennedy worthy of confirmation. Indeed, their nominations may not come to a vote. Recall that George W. Bush nominated former New York City police commissioner Bernard Kerik to be secretary of homeland security in 2004. The nomination was withdrawn shortly thereafter. Barack Obama nominated Tom Daschle and Bill Richardson to cabinet posts in 2008. Not only did both men eventually withdraw, but also the man Obama nominated to replace Richardson—former Republican senator Judd Gregg (N.H.)—removed himself from consideration, as well. Former governor Gary Locke (D., Wash.) ended up with the job of secretary of commerce.
Institutional Washington—and I belong in this category—was tempted to forget during the Biden years that Trump and MAGA always have intended to overturn the established order, to give the middle finger to the permanent structures of government and the credentialed elites who live in and around the nation's capital, and to enact their agenda despite howls of outrage. The past week, then, has been both a reminder of the past and a preview of the future. When Donald Trump is president, the unconventional happens. The chattering classes wail. Guardrails are tested. Politics matters. Everything is up for grabs. And no one is ever bored.