Trump Ally Struggles in Florida as Racial Flare-ups Come to Fore

MIAMI — President Donald Trump delivered an urgent warning to his staunchest supporters in Florida Wednesday night at a pulsating political rally: Don’t let Ron DeSantis lose the governor’s race next week. Not with Trump’s 2020 re-election plans potentially hinging on the country’s biggest presidential battleground state.

“This is my state also,” Trump reminded them, alluding to his golf properties and winter home in Palm Beach and his 1-point victory in 2016.

That DeSantis is the Republican nominee for governor is a testament to Trump’s strong endorsement and popularity with conservatives. That Trump’s support has not been enough to make DeSantis the favorite on Tuesday — in one of the most high-profile and symbolically important races in the country — is evidence not only of the president’s shaky footing with independents, but also of DeSantis’ shortcomings as a candidate, political strategists from both parties say.

Trump has expended more political capital on DeSantis than on most other candidates this year, so the president would inevitably own a loss. Neither party is counting out DeSantis, but he is trailing slightly behind Andrew Gillum, the Democratic mayor of Tallahassee, in most public polls; the president has scheduled another rally on Saturday in Pensacola.

What seemed a winnable race for Republicans against Gillum, an outspoken progressive who supports impeaching Trump, has instead become neck-and-neck, with the charismatic Democrat drawing far larger crowds than DeSantis, a telegenic Fox News regular who has proved uneven on the trail.

In the closing weeks of the campaign, what has separated the two candidates most is how each has dealt with issues of race and identity. Gillum, who would become Florida’s first African-American governor, has talked about both matters at length; DeSantis, who is white, has struggled to address questions about his past political associations with racists and xenophobes.

DeSantis and his team never prepared to run against Gillum; they thought they would face one of the more traditional, centrist Democrats running in the primary. The Republican fumbled early on with how to criticize his unexpected opponent and how to deal with a contender who, more than other Democrats who ran for governor, knew how to make moments go viral.

One reason DeSantis may have stumbled is where he had come from: the conservative cocoon of the political right, where his rise to national prominence — boosted by stoking fears of terrorism — went little noticed because DeSantis was only a congressman in a reliably Republican seat. (He resigned after winning the August primary.)

Over nearly three terms in office, DeSantis, a 40-year-old Yale and Harvard graduate and former Navy prosecutor, became a familiar face on Fox, doing hits from Capitol Hill and flying to New York to appear from the network’s flagship studio. He attended conferences billed as conservative gatherings where he made his name known in political circles that mattered.

Thrust into a marquee race in a purple state, however, DeSantis floundered.

In a Fox interview the day after the Aug. 28 primary, he said electing Gillum, 39, could “monkey this up,” which Democrats denounced as a racist dog whistle. (DeSantis denied that.) News reports exposed how far-right extremists were among the organizers and attendees of some of the conferences he frequented. A white supremacist group targeted Gillum with offensive robocalls. A campaign contributor apologized for referring to former President Barack Obama with a racist slur, but DeSantis declined to return his donation.

DeSantis managed to regroup from that rough start. But the controversies have cast a shadow over his campaign.

During the candidates’ last debate, DeSantis angrily rejected a question about his ties to a conservative author, David Horowitz, who has made incendiary statements.

“Are you going to play the McCarthy-ite game?” DeSantis asked, suggesting he was being found guilty by association. “How the hell am I supposed to know every single statement someone makes?”

Gillum spied his opening and pounced.

"I’m not calling Mr. DeSantis a racist. I’m simply saying the racists believe he’s a racist,” he said. A clip of the exchange posted to Twitter by Gillum’s campaign has been viewed more than 7 million times.

DeSantis has pounded Gillum over an ongoing FBI investigation into possible corruption in Tallahassee’s community redevelopment agency, and over inappropriate gifts Gillum appears to have accepted during several trips with a lobbyist friend. Trump has gone as far as to label Gillum, without evidence, as a “thief.” On Thursday, the Gillum campaign was also dealing with criticism after the conservative undercover journalism operation, Project Veritas, released a video in which a Gillum volunteer calls Florida “a cracker” state. (The campaign has cut ties with the volunteer.)

Gillum and his supporters have tried to turn those accusations of corruption — as well as claims by DeSantis that Gillum is anti-police — against DeSantis and Republicans, saying the attacks are fueled by racism against a successful black politician. DeSantis’ campaign has countered that resorting to accusations of racism is way for Gillum to avoid scrutiny on his lobbyist dealings.

The Democratic emphasis on racial politics could push more white voters, who comprise a majority of Florida’s electorate and came out in droves for Trump in 2016, to the polls for DeSantis this year. More Republicans than Democrats have cast early ballots in Florida so far. But in an election that could come down to turning out his base, Gillum has embraced any risk posed in energizing minority voters at the expense of white ones.

Lingering questions over DeSantis’ past associations to Horowitz and others have exasperated the former congressman and his backers, who prefer to focus on his message of economic stability and law and order in a state that last elected a Democratic governor in 1994.

“I think he’s frustrated that the normal playbook is not running as smoothly as it has for a quarter century,” said Adam Goodman, a veteran Republican political consultant who said Florida’s changing demographics might no longer respond to traditional GOP orthodoxy. DeSantis first outlined his conservative ideology in a 2011 book that turned him into a popular speaker at Florida Tea Party and Republican gatherings. The book, “Dreams From Our Founding Fathers: First Principles in the Age of Obama,” borrowed from the title of Barack Obama’s 1995 memoir, “Dreams From My Father.” DeSantis dwelled on socialist and radical mentors in Obama’s life, arguing that, under their influence, the former president steered the country on a path divergent from what the Founding Fathers intended.

His anti-Obama message appeared to resonate with some Fox viewers. By mid-2012, even before his first election, he was a guest on Sean Hannity’s show; by the time he got to Washington the next year, DeSantis had bypassed the obscurity of most rank-and-file freshman members of Congress.

On the campaign trail, DeSantis emphasizes his work with the Trump administration to move the Israeli embassy from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem, referring to the West Bank by the biblical names Judea and Samaria that are commonly used by Jewish settlers. At Mo’s Bagels and Deli in Aventura, Florida, he recently quipped that Gillum would move the embassy to the Palestinian city of Ramallah.

Much of DeSantis’ attention in Congress was on terrorism. From his perch as chairman of a national security subcommittee, he delivered attention-grabbing statements that stoked fear of Muslims. Following the Pulse nightclub shooting in Orlando, for example, he speculated that there were “thousands” of potential terrorists on federal watch lists in Florida.

“He’s willing to tolerate and even utilize prejudice to advance his agenda,” said Hassan Shibly, executive director of the Florida Council on American Islamic Relations, a Muslim civil-liberties organization.

Some of DeSantis’ viewpoints parallel those of Horowitz — the apparent focus of the debate question that sparked DeSantis’ angry eruption. A controversial author and speaker, Horowitz is known for espousing anti-Muslim opinions. He has claimed that the only serious race war in the United States is against whites, and he has compared Palestinians to Nazis.

Horowitz denied allegations that he is a racist in an article published following the debate.

Since 2013, DeSantis has appeared at four conferences sponsored by Horowitz — which was first reported by The Washington Post — and had praised his organization as one that “shoots straight, tells the American people the truth and is standing up for the right thing.” He has continued to defend his speeches there, noting that the keynote address at one of the gatherings was given by a Medal of Honor recipient.

When Trump recently tweeted that “criminals and unknown Middle Easterners” had joined a large caravan of Central Americans heading to the United States, he was repeating an idea advanced on Capitol Hill in 2016 by DeSantis, who called a hearing to discuss the threat posed by Islamic terrorists crossing the Mexican border.

Trump returned to the caravan during Wednesday’s rally, pitching his idea — widely discounted by legal experts — to end birthright citizenship by executive order. A proposal so alienating to immigrants, especially Latinos, would be unheard-of in a typical Florida election year.

But DeSantis, who said this week he agrees with limiting birthright protections, smiled broadly standing next to the president and took aim at Gillum.

“Maybe we should impeach Gillum as mayor of Tallahassee!” DeSantis said.

“Lock him up!” the crowd chanted.