The Epstein files sinkhole widening under Trump

As of this month, it has been exactly a decade since Donald Trump took a permanent polling lead in the 2016 Republican presidential primary. In the intervening 10 years, no other Republican has significantly threatened his hold over the GOP base, a grip that, despite his loss in the 2020 election, has seemed only to strengthen as the years have passed.

But that grip could be loosening, in part because Trump is demanding his base side with him against other Republicans on an issue that makes the choice far harder than he wants to admit.

Take the so-called Jeffrey Epstein files. The convicted sex offender took his own life while incarcerated in federal prison in 2019, a moment at which a splinter group of Trump supporters calling itself QAnon was focused on the idea that a cabal of American elites was engaged in a widespread campaign of child sex trafficking. Epstein’s life — and death, according to conspiracy theories — became a tangible demonstration of just such a secret society. Many on the right, even outside the QAnon fringe, agitated for the release of all information about Epstein’s activities, expecting that it would prove embarrassing to prominent Democrats and liberal celebrities they viewed with disdain.

It was clear even then, though, that Trump’s name would also crop up in that material, as the pair were friends for years, traveling in each other’s social circles in New York and Florida. But as Trump’s allies railed against his successor in the White House for refusing to release the Epstein files, Trump generally stayed quiet. When he was asked about the issue, he didn’t call for the files’ release, instead expressing concern that innocent people would be hurt if the files were made public.

This was atypical for Trump. Usually, he’d champion the wild, unsubstantiated claims targeting the right’s perceived enemies. When he took office again in January, however, he found himself in the uncomfortable position of being empowered to deliver what his base wanted but not actually wanting to do so. So he didn’t.

Polling has repeatedly shown that this incongruity has created a schism in his support. In polling conducted in October by Ipsos for Reuters, 9 in 10 Republicans expressed approval of Trump’s presidency. But only 4 in 10 indicated that they approved of how he was handling the Epstein files. Quinnipiac University polling conducted this summer found a similar split: 84% of Republicans approved of Trump’s presidency, but only 44% approved of how he was handling Epstein.

It’s not great for Trump that a third of Republicans told Quinnipiac they disapproved of his handling of Epstein. What might also alarm the president, though, is that 22% of them said they didn’t know whether they approved of how he was handling Epstein.

Why is that a cause for concern? Because voters often say they don’t know how they feel when they actually do know but don’t want to express it. A big chunk of that 22% of Republicans disapprove of how Trump is handling Epstein but haven’t gotten to the point where they want to say that on the record.

This is an indicator of softness in Trump’s support, but it’s not the only such indicator. Consider YouGov’s regular polls on approval of Trump’s second term as president. Since February, the monthly average of his approval rating among all adults has dropped from just under 50% to just under 40%. Among Republicans, it’s dropped more subtly, from 91% to 86%.

But the composition of his approval rating among Republicans has also changed. Much of the shift among Americans overall is a function of an 8-percentage-point drop in the share of people saying they strongly approve of his presidency. Among Republicans, the drop in strong approval was 17 points — but that’s masked by a 12-point increase in the percentage who say they somewhat approve of the job he’s doing.

This, too, is how polling often evolves. People rarely go from strong support to strong opposition. They generally make a few stops along the way — somewhat support, to not sure if they support, to soft opposition. A chunk of Republicans have started on that path since January. Trump still has the approval of most Republicans, but more than a third of that support is relatively soft.

By itself, this is a problem for a president who requires unfailing fealty from supporters and his elected allies. Those elected Republicans have been consistently aligned with Trump, worried that the loyalty of his base could make the difference in whether they win their primaries. But if the base starts to waver, so will that fear — and so could that alignment.

All of that was the case even before this week. With the House’s return to business after the government shutdown — and the belated swearing-in of Rep. Adelita Grijalva, D-Ariz. — a procedural effort to force the Trump-led executive branch to release the information it has about Epstein is headed to a vote.

Trump reportedly pressed otherwise loyal allies like Reps. Lauren Boebert, R-Colo., and Nancy Mace, R-S.C., to rescind their support for the procedure, but they refused. Importantly, the White House has hinted that Mace’s support for releasing the files might prompt Trump to endorse someone else as she seeks the Republican nomination for governor in South Carolina — but that threat didn’t work. If Mace is making a political calculation, she’s decided that siding with the release of the Epstein files will be of more benefit than Trump’s endorsement.

It seems likely that the House vote on releasing the files will not be a narrow, party-line one. Lots of Republicans will have to balance their interest in remaining allied with Trump against inevitable attack ads accusing them of wanting to hide information about one of the most notorious criminals in recent history. Many will break with Trump as a result — not permanently, but in a way that will increase the perception that the center of power in the Republican Party is shifting somewhere else. The race to be Trump’s successor will continue to heat up, as Trump’s own influence and support likely recedes.

Given the past decade, it would be foolish to anticipate that Trump’s approval rating among Republicans will completely collapse — or even drop significantly. (The Epstein files, for example, will presumably not continue to be a salient element of the political discussion indefinitely.) But his approval rating isn’t really what will be important in the months ahead. Instead, it will be the extent to which Trump is able to direct his base’s anger and attention in the face of increasing competition from ambitious politicians and external media figures and influencers looking to carve out some of that power for themselves.

This is what happens with lame-duck presidents. And despite the uniqueness of his political emergence, Trump isn’t immune to this shift. It did seem as though perhaps he’d figured out a way to slow his path toward irrelevance during his second term, partly by embracing an expansive deployment of presidential power as a counterweight. But that bulwark is currently eroding, thanks less to the decisions he’s made since his reinauguration than to a friendship he made more than 30 years ago.