The one thing no political writer wants to ever do is admit that a prediction they’ve made is truly, completely wrong. Yet, I’m here to do just that—in May 2023, I wrote a piece titled “DeSantis is the GOP’s Tactical Pick for 2024,” arguing that Florida governor Ron DeSantis represented the future of the party. If the GOP could coalesce around his seemingly results-first, drama-second approach, I argued, it could create a tactically superior response to Biden’s reelection strategy and avoid becoming mired in the treacherous orange swamp that would be nominating Donald Trump for the Republican ticket.
“[DeSantis’] job, right now, is to prove to a sufficient coalition of Republican voters that he’s politically savvy enough to pull off a win against Democrats in 2024,” I wrote at the time. “Mounting a successful challenge to a loud, unorthodox opponent with a truly diehard fanbase, while difficult, is by no means impossible.”
Yeah. About that. Turns out, it was impossible.
What went wrong with Ron DeSantis? He had the messaging chops that so many politicians lack and a track record that would light a patriotic fire in the hearts of most Republican voters in a non-Trump era. Yet, Iowa proved the nail in the coffin of a campaign that, to put it politely, failed nobly and, to put it impolitely, ran second place at best for the entire 2024 cycle and never once felt like it was gaining momentum. One might make the argument that everything went wrong with DeSantis, starting with his disastrous Twitter campaign launch, and I’d generally agree. I’ve had the opportunity to see DeSantis both on television and in-person, and he truly does struggle with appearing wooden and forced on camera. While he could put on a charismatic front, particularly when pitted against an out-and-out progressive like Gavin Newsom, he seemed unable—or unwilling—to bring out that charisma and fighting spirit against the one person he was truly running against in the GOP primary: Donald Trump.
I wouldn’t be surprised if DeSantis harbors secret antagonism or even loathing of Donald Trump. I’ve heard such sentiments echoed privately by many, including those who are more than happy to sing the man’s praises when the microphones are on. But he never found a way to express his separation from Trump effectively, even when Trump made his view of the Florida governor perfectly clear.
The damning fact for DeSantis is that, at some point, he had to find a way to land a punch capable of shaking the Man Who Would Be Indicted. And that last word is the key—as DeSantis struggled to make headway, Trump weaponized his indictments to create surging momentum among his supporters, selling his opposition as the Biden administration, the deep state, or anyone else conveniently within reach. DeSantis had no such option, and whether by his own choice or the advice of campaign staffers, he never distanced himself from the frontrunner.
To Trump-friendly Republicans, the dichotomy became even clearer as indictments mounted. As opposition fire seemed to coalesce on Trump, DeSantis had no solid play left to pull attention or votes away from the former president, who outpaced him by 40 points after the Georgia indictment. As Trump’s martyr status grew, there was no way to separate from Trump and not be perceived as the enemy by the base—as Iowa loomed, DeSantis fumbled. It would be the last fumble of his campaign.
What happened to Ron DeSantis? Trump happened. The Trump cycle, in which the political left concentrates attacks on Trump, Trump plays the victim card (you may have noticed that’s one of the few cards the frontrunner has left to play), and his base doubles down on support. It’s a cycle that hinges upon the kind of blind belief and devotion against which traditional politicians have nothing to offer. It doesn’t matter what conservatives, principled, intelligentsia, or otherwise, have to say. The GOP is Donald Trump’s world—and we’re all stuck living in it. And, for what it’s worth, you get zero credibility to opine about Donald Trump’s grip on the party when the last thing you use your campaign to do is help tighten it.
DeSantis can only hope his final show of Trumpist loyalty is as forgettable as his campaign. But, for anyone who ever saw him as anything more than Trump Lite, it probably won’t be.
Isaac Willour
Isaac Willour is a journalist currently reporting on American politics and higher education. His work has been published in a plethora of outlets, including the Christian Post, The Dispatch, the Wall Street Journal, and National Review, as well as interviews for New York Times Opinion and the American Enterprise Institute. He studies political science at Grove City College. He can be found on Twitter @IsaacWillour.
The views expressed in this article are the opinion of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of Lone Conservative staff.
