How Rush Limbaugh Created Donald Trump and Destroyed the GOP

Adapting the words of the inimitable Bette Davis: "You should never say bad things about the dead, only good. Rush Limbaugh is dead. Good." Each of us has the choice of working for good or embracing destructive endeavors. Rush Limbaugh - a hypocrite of immense proportions - chose the latter and for decades spewed hatred and bigotry against countless Americans based on their race, gender and sexual orientation. In the process he amassed a fortune at the expense of millions and the nation as a whole thanks to his message of hate, fear and division. He also helped pave the way for Donald Trump and accelerated the degradation of the Republican Party which is now the party of white supremacists and religious extremists which would end American democracy in order to cling to power. While the hate merchants of the far right mourn Limbaugh's passing yesterday, the rest of us should be relieved that Limbaugh malevolent influence is gone. A column at CNN looks at Limbaugh's rise and the rise of Trump and the decline of the Republican Party. Here are excerpts:

In November 1987, Donald Trump published "The Art of the Deal," his business (and life) manifesto that is widely cited as his official entry into the cultural zeitgeist. Nine months later, Rush Limbaugh broadcast his first nationally syndicated radio show.

The two men's careers moved in parallel over the next three-plus decades, with both becoming national (and international) celebrities -- hated by some, loved by others . . . 

Limbaugh's effect on Trump -- as the billionaire businessman honed a political persona built around American exceptionalism, sticking it to the elites and weaponizing racial animus -- is profound. Trump was a devotee of Limbaugh's radio show and an unapologetic supporter of the deeply controversial conservative talking head. 

It's not too much to say that without Rush Limbaugh, there might never been a President Donald Trump. Limbaugh didn't create Trump. But he provided as sort of broad ideological framework for Trump to fit his own ideas into. And even more importantly, Limbaugh spent decades sowing distrust with the media and savaging Democrats in deeply personal terms -- moves that provided fertile ground for the appeals Trump eventually rode to the White House. 

To listen to Limbaugh in the 1990s and 2000s is to hear clear indicators of themes that Trump picked up on in his presidential candidacy. In a 2009 speech at the Conservative Political Action Conference, Limbaugh laid out his vision of what it meant to be a conservative.  . . . It's as though Trump took this speech and turned it into a presidential campaign.

But there was more to Limbaugh's influence on Trump -- and the Republican Party that would eventually choose him as its presidential nominee in 2016 -- than just words and policies. There was also a seething resentment and anger, often expressed in Limbaugh's case via biting sarcasm, aimed at the elites, be they in politics, media or anything else. 

Yes, Limbaugh would have politicians on his show from time to time, including the first family of the Republican establishment: The Bushes. But Limbaugh's bread and butter wasn't interviews with members of elected leadership. It was his largely one-way jeremiads launched into the ears of his voracious "Dittoheads" -- brutal attacks on politicians (of both parties) who he believed were too cowardly to stand up and do what was right. 

Limbaugh cast himself as the voice of the everyman, the guy who said what everyone -- or at least some people -- was thinking. 

What Limbaugh understood was that his power rested in his loyal followers. That as long as he could command them, politicians would fear him. And that would make him powerful.

(Sound familiar?) 

He also understood that he could make controversy work for him. That the most important thing wasn't being right, it was being relevant. And so, while Limbaugh took hits for racist comments about African American quarterback Donovan McNabb in the early 2000s and sexist comments about a Georgetown law student named Sandra Fluke in 2012, those incidents never destroyed him. And in some circles, they made him even more powerful.

(Sound familiar?)

Perhaps the best example of how Trump and Trumpism borrowed from the Limbaugh playbook came during the presidency of Barack Obama, when both men became leading lights in the "birther" movement -- the repeatedly debunked notion that Obama was not actually born in the United States and, therefore, was not eligible to be president. 

As far back as the summer of 2009, Limbaugh was telling his listeners that Obama "has yet to have to prove that he's a citizen." Trump, who had been looking for a way into politics for the better part of the previous decade, picked up on the birther nonsense as a way to build credibility with just the people that Limbaugh spoke to. 

The point here is a simple one: Donald Trump was the living, breathing embodiment of the politics of grievance that Limbaugh spent decades peddling. Whereas Limbaugh weaponized race and misogyny for ratings, Trump did it for votes. Where Limbaugh talked about the need to excise the Republican Party of moderates and "squishes," Trump used his office and power within the party to cleanse it of anyone who wouldn't fall in line with him. Limbaugh talked. Trump did. 

Trump was Limbaugh's Frankenstein monster. And he proudly stood by him until the very end.

In my opinion, the world will be an even better place when we can say  "Donald Trump is dead. Good." Both Limbaugh and Trump are the face of evil.