Is DeSantis already spent?
Those of you who read this blog regularly know that I’ve been saying the smart move for DeSantis would have been to wait until 2028. Trump is still dominant and there’s just no way for anyone to get around it. It looks like some of his fans are starting to come to that realization as well:
Among the 15-20 Republican mega-donors who control the purse strings in G.O.P. politics, there’s growing concern that Ron DeSantis, the great white knight from Tallahassee, might not be the one, or at least not yet. Most of these top dogs—Steve Schwarzman, Ken Griffin, Paul Singer, Ken Langone, etcetera—are moderate-ish Bush-era billionaires who loved Trump’s corporate tax cuts but have appeared ready to move on from the candidate, despite the former president’s efforts to win them back by circulating memos highlighting his poll numbers or working the room at John Paulson’s Palm Beach housewarming party.
Nevertheless, these are businessmen, hedge fund founders, and private equity moguls who appreciate optionality and are now looking to hedge their risk, as I reported last week. “If DeSantis is the guy, we’re ready to go for it and we’re ready to throw our weight behind him,” one major donor told me. “We want one or two of them rather than Trump. DeSantis should not misread early support for him, which I’m sure DeSantis hates. We’re ready to support two Trump alternative candidates, because why wouldn’t we?”
Sure, DeSantis already has about $200 million in the bank, but it’s been a rough month or so. He’s been trending downward in early polling and was completely upstaged by Trump’s indictment and arrest in New York, an oxygen-annihilating media event that seemed, somehow, to have caught the Florida governor and his staff off-guard—first with his disingenuous, chatbot-esque performance during a softball interview with Piers Morgan, during which he fumbled his response to questions about Trump’s looming indictment, and again when he was put on the spot regarding whether he would stand in the way of Trump’s potential extradition.
The trouble with DeSantis is that his candidacy is more compelling on paper than it is in practice. Of course, any would-be president’s ambitions eclipse their accomplishments. But DeSantis, despite ruling over a state of 20 million people, has yet to be tested on a national stage. He’s also revealed a reactive and potentially short-sighted political instinct with his recent moves to legalize permitless concealed carry in Florida and his plan to sign a six-week abortion ban—two base-revving policies that would unquestionably come back to haunt him in a general election.
Other missteps have been stylistic, donors say, like his desire to always appear as the smartest person in the room. Perhaps he should embrace a more genial approach, like their north star George W. Bush, the guy who didn’t drink but whom you would grab a beer with. (Though look how that turned out…)
DeSantis’s people brush off this grumbling as a bunch of moderates who don’t understand what it takes to win the Republican primary these days. Sure, the six-week abortion ban might upset them, but if he’s going to beat Trump in the primary, he needs to campaign to the hard right. But the party’s moneymen worry he’s being myopic, or naive. “He’s showing signs of stress and that only he and his wife Casey are in his inner camp,” the major donor told me. “DeSantis has to do whatever he can to stop the bill from getting the six-week abortion ban to his desk.”
In fact, these donors see it as a real test. One called it a “death warrant.” That’s why you’re starting to hear the intensified grumbling that perhaps DeSantis should do a headfake and sit this one out for 2028. I’ve been in Florida reporting for the past two weeks and have heard this inside conversation at all levels, from voters to G.O.P. leaders to top donors who wonder if DeSantis should really run.
Three months ago, DeSantis was on top of the world, having beaten Trump in a poll of G.O.P. voters in New Hampshire and enjoying his own sense of political inevitability. Now, the conversation among donors has shifted to whether they need to identify another “game-winning relief pitcher in the bullpen,” in case DeSantis doesn’t have the gas to go the distance. (I know, more sports metaphors, but these are obviously all men talking.) The de facto option for these guys is to pick someone most like them—a man who understands the economic and political universe as they see it; a former private equity hero and centimillionaire on their level. Yes, we’re talking once again about Glenn Youngkin.
I’m reliably told that Youngkin has made it clear that he will not run before the state legislature elections in Virginia, in November. He’s dead set on flipping the state red and making that his signature success story, outside of his manufactured C.R.T. platform, which DeSantis snatched up and turbocharged. Of course, a very late entry would put him at a sizable disadvantage—especially if it means missing debates, potentially failing to qualify for the ballot in certain states, and arriving without a national campaign apparatus in place. But surely, the argument goes, Youngkin can spend $20 million of his own cash immediately to make up any lost ground, and he’d be able to call on his peers to help bridge the delta. He’s got significant evangelical support waiting in the wings. And by waiting on the sidelines, Youngkin avoids months of Trump attacks.
Sure it’s a longshot, but this may be Youngkin’s last chance at the White House. Whereas donors are telling DeSantis to consider sitting back and waiting until 2028, after Trump is out of the picture, Youngkin is being advised that 2028 is too far away. His term as governor is up in 2025, and he’s term limited from running again. Without a political platform to stand on, he runs the risk of becoming just another rich guy with presidential dreams.
Oh, and there’s the Rupert Murdoch factor, too. I’m told that both Youngkin and DeSantis met with Murdoch, separately, at his $200 million Montana ranch last year, and the Fox and News Corp. owner seemed to get on better with the fleece-wearing former Carlyle co-C.E.O. than he did with the former Navy lawyer.
It’s not just the monied class whose confidence DeSantis appears to be losing; his appeal with the grassroots is also being tested. To wit, multiple sources noted to me that the New Hampshire G.O.P. is still struggling to sell tickets, at every level up from entry-level tickets to $5,000 dinner sponsorships, for the annual Amos Tuck Dinner on April 14, featuring DeSantis as the special guest. With only one week to go, organizers are apparently underwhelmed by the interest in an event they’d hoped would sell out. Meanwhile, The Daily Beast has a story out about how everyone from G.O.P. donors to organizers have been frustrated by the lack of responsiveness from the DeSantis team, as well as his insistence on doing as little media as possible. New Hampshire activists have been particularly miffed that they need to submit requests to the governor’s office to see him while he’s in town—a hurdle they’re not used to as influencers in the first-in-the-nation primary. (A New Hampshire G.O.P. spokesperson declined to comment.)
But maybe DeSantis doesn’t care about New Hampshire or Iowa. NBC News is reporting that he’s instead focusing on outlasting Trump and winning more delegates overall—what people in the know are already calling “the Rudy Guiliani strategy.” Which by the way, didn’t work.
They’re stuck with the latest Great Whitebread Hope Glenn Youngkin? Lol.
DeSantis may have already screwed himself. His culture war strategy is outrageous and out of step with the country. By 2028 it’s going to be seen as a relic from the past. (Not that they won’t be extreme, it’s just that the next big thing will be something different and all this silly “woke” business will be hung around his neck. )
DeSantis is a loathesome, calculated wingnut machine. Nothing would make me happier than to see him and his cynical strategy destroyed.