CLEVELAND—Look around the main hall at the Republican National Convention and you see the trappings of party unity. Delegates adorned in “Trump-Pence” buttons and hats with the real estate mogul’s simple slogan, “Make America Great Again.” A lineup of speakers who attest to Trump’s greatness and his fitness for the presidency of the United States. Tables and tables and tables of pro-Trump merchandise.

That unity is a façade. Sixty percent of Republicans are dissatisfied with Donald Trump as their prospective nominee, according to NBC News and the Wall Street Journal. Just 38 percent are satisfied. Most of the unsatisfied will vote for Donald Trump. But some fall into the Never Trump faction of the Republican Party. And on Monday, those voters made their stand against a Republican establishment intent on blocking any challenge to Trump as nominee.

Three hours after the convention began in earnest, Republican Chairman Reince Priebus moved to approve the rules package that set the parameters for the convention. Almost immediately, anti-Trump delegates began clamoring—screaming, even—for a roll call vote, to force each delegation to announce its support for or opposition to the package, and by extension, its support for or opposition to Donald Trump.

It’s worth a moment for context. There was a point in American politics where convention delegates chose nominees through days of jockeying and fighting, sometimes culminating in epic floor fights over ballots and procedures. The rules and rituals of the modern convention reflect that period, even as voters ultimately determine the nominee of the party. The modern presidential convention is less of a smoke-filled room and more of a trade event, where people mingle and commiserate, then ratify the results of the primaries in a grand display of unity.

The rules matter, but most of the time, they don’t matter that much. Which is what made Monday’s spectacle all the more remarkable.

There was no chance that Never Trump delegates would derail the real estate mogul’s nomination, not least because they lacked a viable and legitimate alternative. At most, they might force RNC leaders to honor and acknowledge their dissent. But that would undermine the entire goal of the convention, which is to project unity ahead of the general election. So, when those Never Trump delegates shouted for a roll call vote, the acting convention chair—Arkansas Rep. Steve Womack—ignored the chant and declared the rules approved. The “ayes” had it.

Before Womack could move on, he was shouted down, as pro- and anti-Trump delegates went back and forth on the floor, screaming in a battle of wills. Womack retreated and then returned to try again. He asked for a vote. He declared the rules approved by voice vote. And he noted that Never Trump forces had fallen short. They needed seven delegations to force a roll call vote. They had six.

Like that, the fight was over. In their final push against the GOP’s presumptive nominee, the Never Trump forces fell short. It wasn’t a total failure. No, they couldn’t overtake a Republican establishment that wanted to put a lid on any discord. But in forcing the question—in generating enough heat to disrupt the proceedings, if only for a moment—the anti-Trump delegates emphasized the degree to which this a Potemkin convention for a party that’s torn and divided over its nominee.

Look at the schedule of events here in Cleveland. If the speakers aren’t from Trump’s immediate family, they’re third- and fourth-string Republican politicians, whose national stature is slight. Neither Mitt Romney nor John McCain—the past two Republican nominees for president—are present. The same goes for the past two Republican presidents. Neither George Bush nor his father will make an appearance at the RNC.

Ohio Gov. John Kasich? Not attending, much to the chagrin of the Trump campaign. Florida Sen. Marco Rubio, the one-time wunderkind of the Republican Party? Not attending, but sending a prerecorded video message. Nebraska Sen. Ben Sasse, a conservative darling? Not attending. Of the 54 Republicans who serve in the Senate, 21 aren’t attending. And several of the most popular Republican governors in the country—Charlie Baker of Massachusetts, Brian Sandoval of Nevada, Nikki Haley of South Carolina—are sitting this convention out.

A strong and confident political party doesn’t struggle to tamp down discord or bring its brightest stars to the fore. But, as a national entity, the Republican Party is neither strong nor confident. It’s sick, worn down by its own pathologies and contradictions. And in its sickness, it’s been overtaken by Donald Trump.

For as much as we might treat this as a farce and a joke, it’s neither. Through his campaign, Trump has conjured some of the darkest forces in national life. He has brought them to the fore. And come Thursday, the Republican Party will elevate him—and his movement of aggressive, racist nationalism—to the highest summit of American politics. It’s history. The ominous kind.

Read more Slate coverage of the 2016 campaign.