The politics of panic

A DAY after Donald Trump called for a “total and complete shutdown” on Muslims entering America, until the government can “figure out” the threat of terrorism, the property tycoon and presidential candidate was invited on television to say how his scheme might work. For instance, how might border guards spot Muslim travellers, given that most passports do not record a holder’s religion, an interviewer asked? Mr Trump was ready for that one. “They would say: ‘Are you Muslim?’” he explained.

There was no sniggering from Republican rivals. They have spent too many months watching Mr Trump lead in opinion polls of conservative voters, even as he tramples facts, insults opponents and makes fantastical promises that would get any other candidate hooted off the stage. His Muslim travel ban may be unworkable, probably illegal, shameful and a propaganda coup for Islamic State (IS). But this is the candidate who Republican supporters have named, repeatedly, as the most trustworthy on national security—though his only direct experience in that field was as a pupil at a military boarding school. Recent terror attacks have left Mr Trump almost giddy. “Every time things get worse, I do better,” he bragged to a crowd in Iowa, days after a mass-shooting in San Bernardino, California. “We’re going to be so vigilant,” he added. “We’re going to be so tough and so mean and so nasty.”