In his speech on Wednesday night at the Republican National Convention, Ted Cruz pointedly declined to endorse Donald Trump. Photograph by Philip Montgomery for The New Yorker

Did Ted Cruz do it on purpose? Did he deliver a speech that he knew the crowd would hate? Did he expect to get booed? Was he secretly exulting as he walked off the podium?

These were some of the questions that political observers were asking after Cruz, the Texas senator and former Presidential candidate, delivered a speech Wednesday night at the Republican National Convention. It went from pretty good to sensational (that is, causing a sensation) over the course of about twenty minutes. “Vote your conscience,” he said, which many conventioneers interpreted as a not-so-veiled way of saying that voting for Donald Trump, the Republican nominee for President, might be unconscionable. Although it might not be correct to say that Cruz was booed offstage—it seems he did, in fact, finish the speech he had planned to deliver—it is certainly true that he was booed.

As it happens, Cruz has some experience in this department. In 2014, in Washington, at a markedly less high-profile event, Cruz delivered a similarly provocative speech, which drew a similarly negative reaction, and raised the same kinds of questions about his motivations. The event was a gala sponsored by a group named In Defense of Christians, which is devoted to the protection and preservation of Christian communities in the Middle East. (“Where it all began,” the organization likes to remind people.) Then, as now, it seemed inconceivable that Cruz didn’t know what effect his words would have. And then, as now, the incident sparked a debate over the value of standing together versus the value of speaking out.

Cruz’s speech to the Christian group, which can be viewed online (skip to the 32:30 mark), began warmly enough. “Tonight we are all united in defense of Christians,” he said. Cruz, of course, is Christian, too; he worships at First Baptist Church, in Houston. But then he added another affirmation: “Tonight we are all united in defense of Jews.” Both lines drew applause, but some of the people in the audience became audibly critical when Cruz started talking about Israel. “Today Christians have no greater ally than the Jewish state,” he said, and the applause was more than matched by shouts of disapproval. But Cruz doubled down. “Those who hate Israel hate America,” he said. “And those who hate Jews hate Christians. And, if this room will not recognize that, then my heart weeps.”

Shortly after that, Toufic Baaklini, the president of I.D.C., felt compelled to come out to the podium to try to broker a truce. “Please, respect, respect, respect for dialogue,” he said. But Cruz wasn’t interested in appeasing his audience.

“I am saddened to see that some here—not everyone, but some here—are so consumed with hate that you cannot address your brother,” Cruz said, putting his hand over his heart. “If you will not stand with Israel and the Jews, then I will not stand with you. Thank you and God bless you.” With that, he turned and left the stage.

Was this a setup? At the time, it seemed possible that Cruz’s speech had been partly inspired by

For Cruz, the I.D.C. affair was an unmitigated political boon. He got warm headlines from the Washington Free Beacon (“Ted Cruz Stands Up to ‘Hatred and Bigotry’ at Conference of Middle Eastern Christians”) and Breitbart (“Why Ted Cruz Was Right to Walk Out on the ‘In Defense of Christians’ Conference”). The incident helped give him a reputation as a strong supporter of Israel. Earlier this year, Nathan Diament, from the Orthodox Union, told the Washington Post that Cruz’s defiant speech “went pretty viral around the community in terms of his standing with Israel and the Jewish people.”

Cruz reprised this strategy on Wednesday night when he pointedly declined to endorse Trump. It should be said that his non-endorsement was not the only one of the night. Eileen Collins, a retired astronaut, skipped over the Trump endorsement that was reportedly part of her prepared text. And, although Governor Scott Walker, one of Trump’s former rivals in the Republican primary, said, “We need to support Donald Trump and Mike Pence for President and Vice-President,” his endorsement was notably muted. His speech barely mentioned Trump, included only one vague line of praise (“Donald Trump is standing with the American people”), and culminated in an affirmation not of Trump but of “Republican leadership,” which is precisely what Trump has spent the last year bucking.

Even so, Cruz surely knew that his non-endorsement would anger the audience. The subversion began with his encomium to freedom—it seemed, in this context, like a challenge to the crowd, and perhaps to the Republican Party itself. “Freedom means religious freedom, whether you are Christian, Jew, Muslim, or atheist,” he said. “Whether you are gay or straight, the Bill of Rights protects the rights of all of us to live according to our conscience.”

As the attendees, in particular the delegates from Trump’s home state of New York, began to realize that Cruz would not be endorsing Trump and began to boo, Cruz’s snide response was further proof that he was neither shocked nor unhappy. “I appreciate the enthusiasm of the New York delegation,” he said. As he was finishing and the booers were getting louder, Trump suddenly appeared on the floor, clapping and waving to distract the crowd. But Cruz didn’t actually need rescuing. (Although his wife reportedly did.) He spent Thursday morning defending his non-endorsement, appearing quite content in the knowledge that he will be forever known as the Republican who went to Trump’s coronation and refused to pay homage. He thinks this reputation will be a valuable asset in years to come, and he may be right. Sometimes making enemies can be more valuable than making friends.

Throughout the primary campaign, it seemed that all Democrats and most Republicans were united in their contempt for Cruz and his tendency to loudly take a stand while just as loudly castigating his colleagues for taking a seat. His instinctive aversion to compromise and his lack of interest in collegiality are extraordinary; in his ongoing struggle for prominence, he can seem extraordinarily reckless. During the I.D.C. affair, he seemed wholly uninterested in the tricky regional politics that no Christian in the Middle East can afford to ignore. But the tendency of politicians to fall in line, especially during election season, can be pretty extraordinary, too.

This week, the Quicken Loans Arena has been lousy with Never Trumpers who have mysteriously dropped the “N,” like former U.S. Attorney General Michael Mukasey. People who considered Trump a “cancer” during the primary have discovered, in time for the general election, that the only cure is to elect him. Politicians rarely ignore the dictates of self-interest, and this year many Republicans have evidently calculated that it would be neither pleasant nor advantageous to show up unreconciled in Cleveland, defying Trump and enraging his supporters. Cruz may be no less self-interested, but he made a different calculation. Good for him.