This is Trump’s Waterloo
Waterloo Iowa is home to a pork processing plant where more than 1,000 workers have been infected with the coronavirus.
Workers who are the brave “foot soldiers” in a “war” against a virus.
Brave foot soldiers who go to the front lines every day under the express direct order of a “war president” who refuses to arm them with the same weapons he enjoys safely behind the breastworks of the Oval Office.
Brave foot soldiers in a war that is only necessary because the commanding general spent the crucial first days glibly serving up vain platitudes, mocking the threat, lying about readiness.
Waterloo Belgium is home to one of the greatest defeats in military history. Emperor Napoleon and the French Empire had established military supremacy over Germany, Italy, Spain, Warsaw, Prussia, Russia, Austria. Intent on conquering the rest of the world, Napoleon arrived in Waterloo on the Sunday morning of June 18, 1815. There he met a British-led coalition under the command of the Duke of Wellington, backed by the Prussian army under the command of Field Marshal von Blücher.
And there ended the great French Empire.
Napoleon abdicated his throne.
Paris fell.
It was another sunny Sunday morning — fifty years later, Palm Sunday 1865 — when General Robert E. Lee sent a messenger to General Ulysses Grant requesting a meeting to discuss terms of surrender.
In June of 1864, Union forces had laid siege to Petersburg, Virginia, cutting off supply lines to the Confederate capital in Richmond. The siege lasted almost ten months until March 25, 1865, when Lee and the Confederate troops were finally forced to abandon Richmond and begin a hasty retreat west.
A hundred miles later, at the village of Appomattox Court House, Grant and his troops caught up to the fleeing Confederates.
Lee carefully weighed his options — Grant was behind him; Union troop commander George Armstrong Custer was in front of him; his beleaguered men were exhausted and hungry.
In the front parlor of Wilmer McLean’s home, Grant sat at a small wooden desk, giving Lee the larger marble-top desk across the room. They waited as Ely Parker, a Seneca chief, drew up the surrender papers.
No matter how many statues were made of Lee; no matter how many yarns were spun about this valor — Lee is remembered…
for surrender;
for defeat.
Custer stood by General Grant’s side as Lee signed the papers. Custer had played a pivotal role in the Battle of Gettysburg; he led the contingent of troops that blocked Lee’s path out of the village and forced the final surrender; he was the first to receive a flag of truce from Confederate troops.
But that’s not why you recognize Custer’s name.
George Armstrong Custer is not known for his victories — he found fame in defeat.
Nobody knows exactly what happened at Little Bighorn — the rout was so devastating there wasn’t a single survivor to inform history. The Dakota and Lakota and Arapaho and Northern Cheyenne completely annihilated all five companies Custer had led into battle.
It appeared the last surviving troops had been encircled and in a last desperate attempt to survive, they had shot their horses and stacked them for breastworks around the point where Custer made his last stand.
“Custer’s Last Stand” has been romanticized; often used metaphorically, sometimes in frivolity — a hotdog stand at Six Flags: “Mustard’s Last Stand.”
“Waterloo” made its way into the fabric of social conversation as a term for utter defeat. In July 2009, a mere six months into President Obama’s first term, Senator Jim DeMint of South Carolina, speaking before tea party members on the subject of ObamaCare, famously said, “If we’re able to stop Obama on this, it will be his Waterloo. It will break him.”
Of course, they didn’t “break him” because Lee’s signature at the marble-top desk in Wilmer McLean’s front parlor put an end to “breaking” black men.
And nothing was ever President Obama’s “Waterloo” — he remains today the most popular president of our lifetimes, greater than Reagan.
America got its first case of Covid 19 on the same day South Korea got its first case.
South Korea went into action.
Trump went into mockery.
He said concern by Democrats was a hoax; he said their reaction was overblown to try to hurt him politically; he said it was no worse than the flu; he said he had it all under control; he said he had a great relationship with the dictator of China; he praised China’s response.
He tested 2,000 people in those first few days; 2,000 out of 328 million.
South Korea tested 140,000 people in the same timeframe; 140,000 out of only 51 million.
As a direct result, South Korea’s death toll now stands at 260, with 11,000 total infections.
While in the same period, through ignorance and inaction, Trump has killed almost 90,000 Americans and infected 1.5 million.
80 days since Trump said the number of cases would soon be zero.
1.5 million cases.
80 days since we had zero deaths.
90,000 deaths.
Trump continually says the US does more testing than any other country.
When you’re warned that the bull is about to get out of the barn and you do nothing;
and the bull gets out of the barn;
it doesn’t matter how many times you go back and check the lock on the barn door after the bull is already out.
Trump is crowing about the number of times he’s now checking the lock, but the havoc is being wreaked behind him by the bull that got out in February while he fiddled and mocked and falsely assured.
Nothing can correct this; there is nothing that can be done today, that will go back and lock the door before the bull gets out — it’s not just a matter of WHAT Trump does, it’s also WHEN he does it and the window of time for taking action before the bull got out of the barn closed irreversibly while he was still praising China and mocking Democrats.
Nothing can ever wash this blood from Trump’s hands.
This is Trump’s legacy.
Napoleon was a great emperor; his victories impressive; he ruled most of the known world — but his legacy is defeat; his name forever associated with losing in grandiose fashion.
Lee was a towering general; his military prowess impressive; his post-war accomplishments long — but his legacy is defeat; his name forever associated with surrendering in devastating humiliation.
Custer was a brilliant military leader; his accomplishments for the Union impressive; his strategies studied — but his legacy is defeat; his name forever associated with taking a final stand that tragically ends in utter and spectacular defeat.
This is Trump’s legacy.
Defeat.
Wartime presidents aren’t considered great merely because they served during a time of war.
They are considered great when they accomplish great things — when they win.
Washington defeated the British; Lincoln defeated the Confederates; FDR defeated the Nazis.
Custer was warned.
But Custer didn’t check the lock on the door — he didn’t need to; he knew how to handle the bull.
Sensing resounding defeat, his loyal Crow scout resignedly said, “You and I are going home today by a road we do not know.”
Trump was given an incredible advantage in life by his father. He has taken great riches by manipulation of debt and bankruptcy. He has been bailed out repeatedly by shady loans from questionable entities.
He has always avoided consequences; always stolen credit and valor from others while hiding behind the breastworks of the stacked bodies of those around him he saddles with blame.
This is Trump’s Waterloo.
This is Trump’s last stand.
This time, Trump will go home by a road he does not know.
