Few congressional Republicans have embraced an independent investigation into the intertwined controversies squeezing Trump, much less any attempt to drive him from office by impeachment, removal through the 25th amendment, or forced resignation. But after the Comey memos appeared, the GOP started to signal the first potential limits on its willingness to defend an embattled and erratic president. “It’s reaching the point where it’s of Watergate size and scale,” Arizona Senator John McCain said Tuesday night.

The crisis swelling around the White House shows how badly Trump has been served in office by the style and tactics he perfected in 2016. As a candidate, Trump dominated the perpetual news cycle with constant provocations and unending attacks on his opponents, from “low energy” Jeb Bush to “crooked” Hillary Clinton. Even when battered by outside revelations (the Access Hollywood tape) or storms of his own making (his attack on Judge Gonzalo Curiel), candidate Trump almost always regained control of the debate by hammering away at his rivals with his trademark bluster and belligerence. Intuitive and ferocious, he was impossible to program and was prone to self-inflicted wounds, but he almost always managed to take the offense—moving forward, not back.

In office those tactics have frequently proved counterproductive. His attacks on a kaleidoscopic array of targets—seemingly driven more by a bottomless well of personal grievance than by any strategy—have prevented the White House from sustaining focus on any other message or agenda. The unending conflicts have hardened his opponents’ doubts about his temperament, compounded doubts about his credibility, and shaken his defenders’ resolve. Perhaps most important, by all indications, his reflexive attempts to undermine any individual or institution he believes can challenge him has only reinforced the determination of his many critics inside the government’s own law-enforcement and intelligence communities.

Trump’s tumultuous first months have unfolded like a tape of earlier presidential crises played on fast-forward. The Watergate break-in occurred in June 1972; Nixon didn’t resign, one step ahead of the House’s impending impeachment vote, until August 1974. Trump now faces mounting threats only four months after taking office, and just seven months after U.S. intelligence agencies initially confirmed Russian meddling in the 2016 election. New controversies routinely crash into the White House before the beleaguered staff has recovered from the previous wave. The master of the accelerated news cycle is now its victim. Democratic leaders, recognizing that dynamic, are deferring talk of impeachment while pushing for an independent investigation.

Events are pressing on Trump so quickly that it’s hazardous to project his current support from his party too far into the future. Congressional Republicans aren’t defending Trump because of deep personal loyalty. Instead the GOP alliance with Trump is rooted in shared political interests. Congressional Republicans need him to sign the agenda of tax cuts, deregulation, and repeal of the Affordable Care Act that they have promised—if not sufficiently fleshed out—since recapturing the House in 2010.