Sometime very late Tuesday night, Donald Trump will show his true colors. Unwittingly, of course, since he is such a stranger to truth—actually so hostile to truth—that it will have to be revealed through his behavior (as his true character has been throughout his disgraceful campaign). When the time comes to concede that American democracy has worked once again to elect the people’s choice for President, and that we have chosen Hillary Rodham Clinton to be our leader, Donald J. Trump will have a choice: accept the verdict and begin the national healing process, or cry “foul!” and sustain his grotesque attack on the unity of the United States.
Both his and our future will be profoundly affected by what he decides. No, actually, with him it won’t be so much of a decision as an impulsion; as has routinely been the case, whatever capacity for generosity and grace he may possess could easily be overwhelmed by his pathological need to believe in his own magnificence. It will be the most enduring moment of truth of Donald J. Trump’s life. I deeply yearn for the better angels of his nature to enchant him at that moment.