In Luzerne County, Pennsylvania, many who oppose the president's ouster remain disengaged with politics.

Normal text size Larger text size Very large text size Alex Bouika can't figure out why business is so bad. His family has run an auto repair shop in Plymouth, a town of 6000 people in north-eastern Pennsylvania, since the early 1960s. He knows his stuff, but a competitor down the road is 10 times as busy. "I have no idea why," Bouika says as he lights up a cigarette inside his office, which is festooned with piles of old mechanical parts and stacks of yellowing newspapers. A tatty calendar from 2004 hangs on the wall. No country for Trump foes. Credit:Niko J Kallianiotis One reason potential customers may be avoiding Bouika's store is that it's not particularly welcoming. Several signs outside warn that you may not leave alive. "All violators will be shot," a sign in the front window tells would-be trespassers. "Survivors will be shot again." "Hey asshole," reads another. "This ain't your f---in' land! Go away now." Bouika's shop is in Luzerne County, once home to thriving coal mining and manufacturing industries. But then mines shut down, the silk mills closed and the factories moved offshore.


Next came a flood so powerful it uprooted hundreds of coffins from the local cemetery, causing skulls and limbs to wash up in people's backyards. "Everything changed after the flood in 1972," Bouika says. "This town has gone downhill." Today many of the shops on Plymouth's Main Street are shuttered; those still trading are largely run-down. A street scene in Luzerne County, Pennsylvania. Credit:Niko J Kallianiotis Luzerne County is a traditional union stronghold and its residents voted twice for Barack Obama. But in 2016 they delivered a 24-point swing to Donald Trump, turning the area Republican for the first time in three decades. The surge was crucial in pushing Trump over the line in Pennsylvania and propelling him into the White House. Trump's pledge to bring back manufacturing jobs and build a wall on the Mexican border was tailor-made for this part of the country, where unemployment is above average, college degrees are rare and nine in 10 residents are white.


Unlike the majority of his neighbours, Bouika voted for Hillary Clinton. He's no Trump fan. But he doesn't believe he should be impeached for asking the Ukrainian President to investigate his potential 2020 rival Joe Biden. Red Carver says it's a "joke" how Democrats are pursuing Trump. Credit:Niko J Kallianiotis "He's the president," he says. "He can do whatever the f--- he wants." A few doors down, Red Carver is making hot dogs at the deli he has operated for years. His sandwich options include liverwurst with sauerkraut and cheesesteak, a local speciality. "It's a joke how they are going after him," Carver says as Bruce Springsteen's Hungry Heart plays in the background. "He didn't do nothing wrong." The Sydney Morning Herald and The Age visited Luzerne County at a time when Washington D.C was convulsed with drama. A week had passed since House Speaker Nancy Pelosi announced a formal impeachment inquiry into Trump. The President stunned reporters on Thursday local time (Friday AEDT) by publicly calling for Ukraine and China to investigate Biden. Later in the day a trove of text messages showed William Taylor, an American diplomat in Ukraine, saying he thought it "crazy" to withhold security assistance from the country unless its leaders agreed to help Trump politically.


Lou Forlenza at the Avenue Diner. Credit:Niko J Kallianiotis "Let's be frank: a national nightmare is upon us," NBC political host Chuck Todd told his viewers. "The basic rules of our democracy are under attack from the President." "You could practically hear the collective gasp in Washington," The New Yorker's Susan Glasser wrote of the day's events. On the streets of Luzerne County, though, there was no collective gasp and no sense of emergency. In this electorally-powerful corner of the country, the scandal registered as static in the background rather than a ringing alarm. A series of national polls has shown a substantial increase in support for impeachment over the past week, with more Americans now saying they would like to see Trump impeached and removed from office than those who do not. But only around one in five Republican voters and two in five independents support impeachment. That complicates the political calculus for senators in conservative and swing states who would decide whether to end Trump's term prematurely. In Luzerne County, there is no indication the saga has led residents to change their views of Trump.


A "conservative in the middle": Linda Grogan at a farmers' market in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. Credit:Niko J Kallianiotis "I don't see a problem with it," John Blockus, who runs an equipment repairs company, says of Trump's phone call with the Ukrainian President. If the US is handing over hundreds of millions dollars in financial aid to Ukraine, he asks, why is it wrong for Trump to ask them for a favour? "Mueller went nowhere and this will go nowhere," says Blockus, who voted for Trump in 2016. "Trump was a great businessman. He won't allow himself to get his hands caught." Dave, a retired state trooper who asks for his surname not to be published, says: "I want all the dirt out there and I'll make my decision." The registered Democrat voted for Trump and has no regrets. "I think he's doing a great job as president: he's pissing both parties off." People in Luzerne County are used to being let down by politicians. Hope is in short supply, and so is trust. Cynicism abounds.

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