The Portrait of Trump
- john raymond
- Sep 6
- 2 min read
Today, the Republic stands under assault. Its courts bend, its alliances fracture, its citizens are taught to see freedom itself as a fraud. The threats do not come only from abroad, though Russia and China press at its edges. The true danger comes from within, from a man who wears the title of president while waging war against the very nation he claims to lead.
At the center of this assault is Donald Trump. He is not a flawed patriot, not a populist tribune with misunderstood goodness of heart. He is the soulless enemy within, a hollow figure animated only by appetite and cruelty.
His life has been a long record of exploitation: fraud, bankruptcy, betrayal, and at its darkest, the sexual abuse of women and children. This is not incidental scandal but the defining pattern of his existence. He feeds on the vulnerable, and when his crimes are exposed, he silences his victims with threats.
It is precisely this emptiness—this absence of principle or humanity—that made him useful to foreign hands. The KGB and FSB saw in Trump not a leader but a construct. They filled his void with their will, binding him through money, kompromat, and vanity.
By the time he reached the presidency, Trump was not his own man. He was a mask, a conduit through which Putin could act upon the American Republic.
What followed is predictable sabotage dressed as governance. Trump weakens NATO, courts autocrats, and works to divide America from its allies.
At home, he treats institutions as he treated his victims: bodies to be bent, voices to be silenced. He rules by reprisals, by distraction, by the constant assertion of power without responsibility. His method in private life—abuse, coercion, humiliation—have become the method of the state.
Some say he is a bungler, too incompetent to be dangerous. Others say he is a fascist, bent on dictatorship. Both are correct, and both miss the truth if taken alone. His bungling and his fascism are not contradictions. They are the cables that bind him, even as he tries to use them bind the Republic to his craven will.
His incompetence makes him dependent on his Kremlin masters. His brutality is the only means left to him, ropes he throws outward to ensnare others but which also reveal his emptiness within.
Step back, and the picture is clear. Trump is not a miscast leader, not a misunderstood patriot. He is an abuser raised to office, a hollow man whose cruelty has been weaponized by a foreign power. His victims were once women and children; now his victim is the Republic itself.
Trump is not eccentric, he is not accidental. He is the central demon at the core of our crisis, the enemy within who would see the Republic broken to preserve himself and to serve his master abroad.
This is the truth. It does not require metaphor or embellishment. It requires only that we look and refuse to look away. Once seen, the portrait cannot be unseen.
The Republic’s choice is whether to recognize its terrible enemy within or to be consumed by him.
I still cannot fathom how he was able to lure millions of citizens to the polls to vote for him. From the jump, he was obviously not fit for the power of the presidency. He was obviously a ridiculous sociopath. A wholly unserious person, let alone candidate.