President Donald Trump’s attacks on prominent African Americans just before the Thanksgiving break—in which he dubbed LaVar Ball, father of one of the three UCLA basketball players who had been released from custody in China, an “ungrateful fool”—prodded the mainstream news media to once again consider a long-percolating question: Why is he so obsessed with using famous African Americans as political foils? Trump, of course, is an aggressive combatant against enemies of all sorts, but there is something peculiar about the way he goes after African Americans: a greater intensity of grievance, a more visceral call for punishment. On the day he attacked Ball, he also retweeted a comment from a supporter who had lamented, “The ungratefulness is something I’ve never seen before.”

The New York Times seemed loath to call the president a racist. “White House officials deny that the president is focused on race when he comments about sports and athletes,” the Times noted. “But to historians and black activists, the tweets are clear evidence of an attempt by the president to send a message of solidarity to many supporters.” This seemed to be a euphemistic way of hinting at the racist subtext of Trump’s remarks.



Writing in The Atlantic, Vann R. Newkirk II was more forthright, describing Trump as “a savant when it comes to knowing how to harness white resentment and hostility towards outspoken people of color,” with a particular focus on prominent blacks who might fit the racist definition of being “uppity.” In the Toronto Star, Daniel Dale suggested that Trump “is either using racism for strategic purposes, or being instinctively racist himself—or it’s both.”

The argument that Trump is playing to his racist base is true enough, but risks becoming banal unless there is specificity about the particular racism at work. After all, Trump is hardly the first president to appeal to bigotry. In modern times, dog-whistle appeals to anti-black racism have been common, ranging from Richard Nixon’s calls for “law and order” to Ronald Reagan’s evocation of “welfare queens” to George H.W. Bush’s demagogic Willie Horton ad to Bill Clinton’s upbraiding of Sister Souljah.

As vile as this racist pandering was, it all pales next to Trump, whose constant appeals to racism call to mind segregationist leaders like George Wallace more than earlier modern presidents. Those presidents might have sent racially based messages on occasion, usually before an election, but they subsequently governed more moderately, embraced the rhetoric of inclusion, and reached out to blacks voters and lawmakers. Trump is distinctive in wanting to govern only on behalf of his base, which is overwhelmingly white. In tandem, he has launched attacks on African Americans, including Golden State Warriors point guard Stephen Curry, Oakland Raiders running back Marshawn Lynch, ESPN anchor Jemele Hill, and Florida Representative Frederica Wilson. Trump has even picked fights with the civil rights hero Representative John Lewis, saying he was “all talk, talk, talk—no action or results.”