What does Trump really want?
Republicans threw a big old shindig for themselves last month.
They beamed with self-satisfaction, with the House passage of a plan that would end Obamacare.
The event, which took place in the White House Rose Garden, was a display of smug glad-handing by an assemblage of House Republicans, and a president who craves political theatre – provided he’s centerstage.
“This is a great plan,” President Trump boasted – not once, but four times.
That “great plan” had just passed muster in the U.S. House by a tiny four vote margin.
It was, though, a day to celebrate the first big step in Trump’s quest to rid the world of Barack Obama’s legacy.
Trump finally got a win (or part of one) since the first effort to replace Obamacare in the House was predicted to cause 24 million Americans to lose their healthcare, according to the Congressional Budget Office.
That prediction meant the Republicans who supported the bill, had to face their angry constituents – many of whom promised to vote against them in 2018, if their representative voted for the proposed bill.
Not surprisingly, that plan never surfaced for a vote.
Instead, thanks to lots of hand-holding, and arm-wrenching, a new version of the American Health Care Act made it through the House.
This time, the Republicans didn’t wait for the Congressional Budget Office to douse their enthusiasm.
Within hours of the bill’s passage, Trump invited a large group of his most fervent supporters to stand behind him on the steps of the Rose Garden, so he could proclaim, “We want to brag about the plan.”
Why?
Because he claimed it was an, “incredibly well-crafted plan.”
With that, the bill was sent to the U.S. Senate for its approval.
But it was met with something a wee bit less than glee.
At this point, I’d like to remind you of Lynn Anderson’s 1970 megahit, “Rose Garden,” as in, “I beg your pardon, (He should have never) promised you a Rose Garden.”
Because in reality, “along with the sunshine, there’s gotta be a little rain some time.”
And here’s the rain.
It poured, thanks to the Congressional Budget Office, and a brand-new estimate of the damages that the newest American Health Care Act could cause.
Twenty days after the Republicans took their victory lap in the Rose Garden, the CBO said their “incredibly well-crafted plan” would lead to gigantic cuts in Medicaid; would be a detriment to many older and lower-income Americans; and, most importantly, would leave 23 million Americans uninsured by 2026.
Nice try House Republicans.
Instead of trying to fix Obamacare, they passed an already broken Trumpcare.
No wonder, members of the Senate were quietly, and in some cases, not-so quietly, saying that they’d start from scratch and leave the House plan on the shelf – probably in a darkened vault somewhere.
That brings us to last week.
Trump decided he’d lunch with key Senate Republicans, and he once again blasted Obamacare while there were cameras rolling.
But after the cameras were removed from the room, he confessed to the senators that the House version of the bill – the one they threw a party for last month – is “mean.”
“Mean?”
Somehow, he figured out what Democrats had been saying all along.
That the Republican view of healthcare coverage has been less about the people who might need it, but more about the wealthy people who might benefit from it.
I’m sure many the House Republicans who twisted themselves into political pretzels to pass their version of Trumpcare, are now wondering why they even bothered to show up in the Rose Garden.
They’d risked their political capital for a president who has shown no real allegiance to them, or their agendas.
In the words of Lynn Anderson, “Well if sweet-talkin’ you could make it come true, I would give you the world right now on a silver platter…”
Except, Mr. Trump has shown on any number of occasions that he’s not real worried about the greater good.
He’s more concerned about what will make himself look good.
Edward A. Owens is a three-time Emmy Award winner and 20-year veteran of television news. E-mail him at freedoms@bellatlantic.net
Files