Poor Gavin Newsom. The governor hasn’t swallowed this much indigestion-inducing fare since he visited the French Laundry.
In the three weeks since Donald Trump took office, not a day has passed without some presidential assault on democratic norms, executive branch overreach or obnoxious emission from the nation’s pot-stirrer in chief.
The response from Newsom, who once fancied himself at the vanguard of the Trump resistance, has been to largely ignore the president’s actions, or to issue some airy platitudes with the throw weight of a down pillow.
When Newsom signed legislation last week authorizing $50 million to fund court battles against the Trump administration and support legal services for immigrants, the governor — who is not exactly publicity-averse — did so with nary a news camera in sight.
Good for him.
All that reticence has to leave a bad taste in Newsom’s mouth. (We’re not talking about the soigné wine country cuisine that got the governor in so much trouble after he enjoyed a Michelin-starred meal with friends during the pandemic lockdown.)
But if that’s what it takes to stay on Trump’s good side and see to it California receives the federal wildfire relief it desperately needs — and tens of thousands of stricken Los Angeles-area residents deserve — then so be it.
It’s instinct in some political circles to scream and stomp and vent at every Trump provocation. That’s one way to release tension, and it’s not an unreasonable response to the horror show he’s put on the last fortnight and a half.
But, really, how politically productive has that been?
It’s not as though Trump kept his roughshod-running plans a secret during the presidential campaign. He still managed a clear-cut victory over Kamala Harris and even won the popular vote, though he fell shy of a 50% majority.
That’s not at all to suggest that capitulation is in order. Myriad legal fights are underway to check Trump’s authoritarian actions, and California’s attorney general, Rob Bonta, is among those who’ve worn a groove in the courthouse steps fighting Trump and his co-president, Elon Musk.
By contrast, Newsom has chosen a more, shall we say, diplomatic approach, playing to Trump’s puppylike need for constant praise and attention.
The governor crashed the president’s arrival when Trump flew into LAX last month to survey the fire damage in Pacific Palisades, and their forced encounter proved to be all bonhomie and bromance. An extended handshake. Shoulder clasps.
“I appreciate the governor coming out and meeting me,” Trump said graciously, notwithstanding the lack of an invitation.
“Thank you for being here,” Newsom offered demurely. “It means a great deal.”
Last week, the two huddled in the Oval Office for 90 minutes, a session that touched on wildfire recovery aid and California’s pushback against Trump, among other issues. Afterward, Newsom described their get-together as “real and substantive” and “positive.”
“There’s a familiarity and there was a relationship that was born of a crisis around COVID,” Newsom told Taryn Luna of The Times’ Sacramento bureau, noting how Trump delivered for California during the pandemic. “I wanted to go back to that space.”
The fact that Trump chose to leave the first, last and only public word on their meeting to Newsom — or “Newscum,” as the president has childishly called him — said a great deal about the current state of their relationship.
Of course, none of the blandishment would be necessary if Trump, in a heartless break with precedent, hadn’t threatened to withhold disaster relief until he obtains certain political concessions: a needless overhaul of California’s elections system and more water for his political benefactors in the state’s farm country.
But that’s the world we’re living in.
And who knows how long the Newsom-Trump detente will last. A “large-scale” immigration enforcement action reportedly planned soon for the Los Angeles area will surely test their political cease-fire.
Inevitably, every move that Newsom makes is weighed against his perceived presidential ambitions.
That’s silly for any number of reasons, not least the fact the campaign is political light-years away. As Lis Smith, a national Democratic campaign strategist, suggested, “Anyone viewing this through the lens of politics in 2028 probably needs to log off.”
(For those holding their breath, the next presidential election isn’t for another 1,363 days.)
That said, one of very best things Newsom could do for his presidential hopes is oversee a smashingly successful recovery from January’s firestorm, one of those epic crises that could very well make or break political careers. “The most important thing for any governor or any candidate for any office,” Smith observed, “is that they do a good job.”
Once the Democratic nominating contest begins, candidates will surely face a litmus test gauging just how fiercely anti-Trump each has been. It’s not hard to imagine some bristling at Newsom’s accommodation of this most transactional of presidents, or seizing on the kind things the governor has said about Trump and using that flattery against him.
But Newsom is doing precisely what he should, setting aside any personal animus and political ambition for the aid and comfort of those he was elected to serve.
He shouldn’t be made to eat those words.
