Now, however, it seems that GOP officialdom is stuck with Ted Cruz. The cliché about politics and strange bedfellows doesn’t begin to describe how weird this is. The only logic that explains it is the ancient adage about the enemy of my enemy being my friend. The enemy in this case being not Hillary Clinton or Bernie Sanders, but instead a certain New York tycoon with a famous hairdo, a penchant for insults, and a fetish for a wall along the southern U.S. border.
But for many prominent Republicans, having to choose between Ted Cruz and Donald Trump is an exquisite form of torture. Cruz’s colleagues find him officious, selfish, and maddening. They doubt his sincerity. They hate how he grandstands. They despise him for impugning the integrity of his own party leaders.
The bill of particulars is well-known in Washington. It starts with how he treats his colleagues and the institutions of government. Deriding “the Washington cartel” may thrill right-wing talk radio hosts—and may have more than a kernel of truth—but it hardly endears him to colleagues. “Love him in Iowa, hate him in D.C.” was a pillar of Cruz’s campaign messaging.
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