Conspiracy theories are funny things.
The most enduring ones usually take hold for two reasons: first, because there’s some grain of truth to them, and second, because they speak to foundational historical divisions.
The theories morph and change, distorting the grain of truth at their centre beyond reality. In the process, they reinforce and deepen existing divisions, encouraging hateful blindness.
US President Donald Trump is perhaps the most successful conspiracy trafficker in modern American history.
Trump built his political career by trading on conspiracy. These have included a combination of racist birther conspiracies about former president Barack Obama, nebulous ideas about the “Deep State” that conspired against the interests of regular Americans, and nods to a more recent online universe centered on QAnon that alleged a Satanist ring of “elite” pedophiles involving Hillary Clinton was trafficking children.
These theories all had their own grain of truth and tapped into deep-seated historical fears. For example, Obama does have Kenyan heritage, and his Blackness threatened many white Americans’ sense of their own power.
Revelations about disgraced financier Jeffery Epstein’s trafficking in children and the way in which that implicated the “elite” of New York seemed to confirm at least parts of the final theory. It tapped into the belief – one that does have some basis in reality – that America’s elite play by rules of their own, above justice and accountability.
In the lead-up to the 2024 presidential election, Trump increasingly engaged with this online universe. He seemed to quietly enjoy suggestions that he might be “Q” – the anonymous leader who, according to the theory, was going to break the paedophile ring wide open in a “day of reckoning”.
Many of Trump’s perennially online supporters based their championing of him around these conspiracy theories. QAnon believers were among those who stormed the Capitol on January 6 2021. A core section of Trump’s base continues to believe his promises that he would at last reveal the truth – about John F. Kennedy’s assassination, the Deep State, and Epstein.
That it has long been public knowledge that Trump and Epstein had a longstanding friendship did not impinge on these beliefs.
Conspiracy theories have swirled around Epstein since at least his first arrest nearly two decades ago, in 2006. After allegations of unlawful sex with a minor, Epstein was charged with soliciting prostitution. This elicited suggestions he was receiving special treatment because of his elite status as a New York financier and philanthropist.
That pattern continued over the next decade as accusations multiplied, culminating in his arrest in 2019 on federal charges of sex trafficking, including to a private island. The allegations touched the global elite, including former president Bill Clinton, the United Kingdom’s Prince Andrew, and Trump. In August 2019, Epstein was found dead in his cell, allegedly by suicide – adding further fuel to the already intense conspiracy fire.
Epstein’s arrest and death occurred during the first Trump administration. Since then, there has been a steady trickle of accusations and revelations that have increased pressure on the administration to declassify and release material relating to the case. Many of Trump’s most loyal supporters, including a set of influential podcasters and influencers, have built their audiences around Epstein and the insistence that the truth be revealed.
Early in the life of the current administration, Attorney-General Pam Bondi – whom Trump is wont to treat as his personal lawyer – said she was reviewing the Epstein “client list”.
In the past few weeks, however, the administration has indicated it will not release the list or other materials relating to the case. At the same time, more information about Trump’s relationship with Epstein has trickled out, including more photos of the two together. It’s hard to deny the sense there is more to come.
Trump’s posting about the issue, despite his apparent wish to divert from it, seems only to compel more interest. Sections of his online conspiracy base, including vocal supporters such as Tucker Carlson, are outraged at what they see as a betrayal. Reports suggest a significant rift developing between Trump and key backer Rupert Murdoch over the issue. Democrats, rightly, sense weakness.
Loyal Republicans seem rattled enough that Speaker of the House Mike Johnson called an early summer recess, sending congresspeople home in an apparent effort to avoid any forced vote on the issue.
The obvious inference – though it is inference only – is that Trump and Republicans are so worried about what is in the Epstein material they would rather cop strong backlash from the base, looking scared and weak, than release the information. If nothing else, that is a guaranteed way to fuel an already raging fire.
Trump’s tanking approval rating and the salience of this issue lead to an obvious question: is this going to be the thing that finally scratches the Teflon president? Will his base turn on him at last?
If history is anything to go by, that seems unlikely. Trump is remarkably resilient, using crises like this to consolidate his power. Trump commands loyalty, and he has it from Bondi, Johnson and others in this weakened and increasingly ideologically driven federal government. And his conspiracy-fuelled base is in so deep that turning on the president now is not just a question of admitting error, but one of core identity.
US mainstream media has long pursued a “gotcha” approach to Trump, driven by a model of journalism that still seeks out smoking guns and dreams of Watergate. Not unlike the conspiracy theories it reports on, this framing hopes for a neat, clear resolution to the story of US politics. But politics doesn’t work like that – especially not for Trump.
From the outside, Trump’s attempts to pivot on the issue and build on his existing conspiracies around Obama and Hillary Clinton might look feeble, but they are tried and true. Trump is now focused on fanning theories around Obama and Clinton, broadening them to include accusations of “treason”. Trump’s Director of National Intelligence Tulsi Gabbard went so far as to claim Obama had “manufactured […] a years-long coup against President Trump”. Even reporting on these claims with rightful incredulity adds fuel to the raging fire.
In the personality cult of an authoritarian leader, conspiracy is easily weaponised against enemies, perceived and real. In the febrile environment of US politics, these conspiracy theories tap into and encourage a long vein of white supremacy and racial revanchism that has shaped American politics since even before the nation’s founding.
Trump can morph and change conspiracy theories like no one else, building on fears and deepening existing divisions. He understands the power of pointing to “enemies from within”, and just how well that reinforces the narrative he has already so successfully ingrained in US political culture. We underestimate him, and the power of conspiracy theory, at our peril.
Emma Shortis, Adjunct Senior Fellow, School of Global, Urban and Social Studies, RMIT University
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
