RUNNING for His Life

His freedom in the balance, Donald Trump's campaign has been big on autocracy and low on the drama that marked previous runs. What might this newfound if terrifying competency mean?

- Gabriel Sherman

ON THE EVENING of August 24, Donald Trump's motorcade passed through downtown Atlanta toward the Fulton County Jail. Scores of people lined the streets snapping photos. News helicopters buzzed overhead. Not since police chased O.J. Simpson's white Bronco down a Los Angeles freeway had a vehicle's movements been so breathlessly covered by the media. Trump was en route to be arrested on 13 felony counts alleging he conspired to steal the 2020 election in Georgia. He would become the first former president in United States history to have his mug shot taken.

Inside his SUV, Trump didn't seem alarmed by his legal peril. A campaign adviser later recalled that Trump was focused on looking defiant. "He was determined not to have a bad mug shot," the adviser said. Trump understood the photograph would become a defining image of the 2024 campaign. To Democrats and the fraction of Republicans horrified by the idea of a second Trump administration, it symbolized his dangerous criminality. For MAGA and the majority of GOP voters, it would be visual proof of Trump's persecution by the deep state. After having his fingerprints taken, Trump turned to the camera doing his best Clint Eastwood circa Gran Torino. You half expected him to snarl, "Get off my lawn."

But even Trump underestimated the image's value. "Can you believe this?" he marveled on the flight back to Palm Beach when advisers told him people were already selling merchandise online. Trump ordered his campaign to get in on the action. Later that night, Trump tweeted the image and a link to his website: "MUG SHOT - AUGUST 24, 2023, ELECTION INTERFERENCE, NEVER SURRENDER!" Within two days, the campaign announced it had raised more than $7 million.