Why do Republicans like Kris Kobach keep associating with sleazy Steve Bannon?
An old college professor of mine, a veteran of the Carter and Ford administrations, taught a fascinating seminar on the presidency in the 1990s. When he got to Watergate and began listing the White House honchos who went to prison for their various roles in the sordid affair, he stopped and looked out at the class, his lips curling.
“Thugs,” he said, referring to men with names such as Liddy, Haldeman and Hunt. “They should never have been permitted within 25 miles of the White House.”
Watergate had been over for 20 years, but the sense of violation these men had visited upon the workings of our highest office still resonated with him. He was a Cold War liberal, and a product of a time in which the presidency was held in enormous respect. He was complimentary of Richard Nixon’s policies, admired Gerald Ford and was fascinated by the successes of Ronald Reagan.
I wish I could have called him up and asked him about the news that Donald Trump’s least unsavory henchman, Steve Bannon, surrendered to prosecutors in New York City Thursday on state charges of money laundering and conspiracy. He’s charged with bilking donors to a phony “We Build the Wall” charity campaign of millions of dollars.
No doubt, the late professor Landis Jones would have long since stopped being surprised at the weaselly nature of some in Trump’s orbit. But there was something especially fitting in the news Thursday about Bannon, of whom there has always been more than a subtle whiff of the grift.
He’s already awaiting sentencing on his conviction on contempt of Congress charges, tied to his refusal to comply with its subpoenas. But as the nation continues to struggle with the questions of culpability for Trump’s Big Lie and the Jan. 6, 2021, attack on the Capitol, it’s almost refreshing to be reminded that something as ordinary — and squalid — as charity fraud is what may well put Bannon behind bars.
Of course the New York officials bringing these charges, all Democrats, will have to prove their case. But given that the Trump Justice Department already found enough evidence to press similar charges in federal court in 2020, with agents dragging Bannon off a yacht to be arraigned, that may not be a difficult task. (He pleaded not guilty, and Trump pardoned him, ending the federal case, just before leaving office.)
I can’t really ask my late professor for his opinion. But sometimes I wonder if anyone in politics ever asks themselves the important question. Like Kansas attorney general hopeful Kris Kobach, before agreeing to appear last week on Bannon’s “War Room” podcast. Kobach has come under a lot of fire for what he said on that show — as Joel Mathis wrote in our pages this week, making Hitler comparisons is always a terrible idea — but he could have avoided all that if he had simply asked himself a simple question before appearing with Bannon: Is this person really someone I want to hitch my star to?
The answer should have been clear: No.
Bannon’s special power is to speak revolution to the Trump base, part of his deep-seated views about the inevitability of a coming war with China and his stoking of racial tensions in this country and elsewhere. He convinced Trump in 2017 initially to name him to the top spot in his White House, and even to be seated on the principals committee of the National Security Council. That was so outrageous, so full of ignorance and danger, that not even Trump could ignore the uproar.
Trump eventually fired Bannon, but that only set him free to work his dark influence from outside the White House, which, like G. Gordon Liddy, he should have never been allowed to set foot inside of.
Thursday’s charges are only the latest reminder that he’s not to be trusted. Nor, I’d submit, are candidates who keep currying his favor.
This story was originally published September 8, 2022 at 12:40 PM.
