It was a warm afternoon in Asheville, North Carolina, with the kind of summer heat that made people seek the cool shade of the Blue Ridge Mountains. The city, known for its vibrant arts scene, eclectic vibe, and progressive politics, was buzzing with an energy that had nothing to do with craft beer or live music. Instead, all eyes were on Donald Trump, who was in town for what his campaign touted as a major economic address.
Trump’s rally was more than just another campaign stop; it was a strategic move in a state that had proven crucial in his previous runs. North Carolina, with its mix of urban progressivism and rural conservatism, is a battleground where every vote counts. The former president knew this well, having narrowly won the state in 2020 by just over 74,000 votes. This time around, he couldn’t afford to lose it.
The rally was set to kick off at 4 p.m. ET, and by the time Trump took the stage, the crowd had swelled to fill the venue. Supporters from the surrounding mountain counties, staunchly Republican and fiercely loyal, had made the journey to see him speak. The event, though framed as an economic address, carried both national and local significance.
As Trump took the stage, there was a palpable sense of anticipation. His supporters, many draped in red, white, and blue, were eager to hear his plans to restore the economy. But there was also an undercurrent of concern among Republicans. Over the past week, Trump had twice fumbled opportunities to sharpen his message. First, in an hourlong news conference at Mar-a-Lago, and then in a sprawling 2 1/2-hour conversation on social media with Elon Musk. Both times, instead of focusing on his policy agenda, Trump had veered into personal attacks and conspiracy theories.
The question hanging in the air was whether Trump could stick to a tight frame on the economy, particularly when it came to saddling Vice President Kamala Harris with the fallout from inflation. The timing of the speech was interesting, to say the least. Just that morning, the Labor Department had reported that year-over-year inflation had reached its lowest level in over three years. This was a potential boon for Harris, who had made the economy a central theme of her campaign.
Harris herself was due to visit North Carolina just days later, promising to unveil more details of her economic vision. She had pledged to make “building up the middle class” a defining goal of her presidency, a message that resonated in a state where many felt left behind by the current economic landscape.
But back to Trump. As he launched into his speech, it became clear that he hadn’t completely abandoned his usual style. There were the familiar hyperbolic warnings — a “Kamala crash … the likes of 1929,” references to “World War III,” and dire predictions about U.S. suburbs being “overrun with violent foreign gangs.” These were lines that had worked for him in the past, but whether they would resonate this time around was an open question.
Despite these rhetorical flourishes, Trump did lay out some concrete proposals. He promised an immediate fix to inflation through increased oil drilling, new tariffs on foreign imports, and an extension of the 2017 tax cuts that were set to expire. He also vowed to suspend taxes on income from tips and roll back Biden-era investments in green energy and infrastructure.
However, even as he outlined these policies, Trump couldn’t resist slipping back into personal attacks. He accused Harris of misrepresenting her race and ethnicity and continued to repeat the baseless claim that his 2020 defeat was due to systemic voter fraud. He also lashed out at the size and enthusiasm of Harris’s crowds on the campaign trail, at one point falsely claiming that a photo of her rally had been fabricated using AI.
These distractions made it difficult for Trump to render a clear policy contrast with the Democratic ticket. His aides had hoped the rally would be a turning point, a chance for Trump to focus on the economy and draw a sharp distinction between his vision and that of Harris. But by the time he wrapped up his speech, it was clear that the event had been a mix of policy and polemic, with the latter often overshadowing the former.
Meanwhile, Harris’s campaign was quick to respond. In a memo, her communications director Michael Tyler dismissed Trump’s proposals, arguing that they would “send inflation skyrocketing and cost our economy millions of jobs.” He pointed to the economic slowdown of the pandemic and the 2017 tax cuts, which he said had disproportionately benefited corporations and the wealthy.
As the rally ended and the crowd began to disperse, the mood in Asheville was one of cautious optimism among Trump’s supporters. They had come to hear their candidate speak, and many left feeling energized. But the broader question of whether Trump could recapture the magic of his previous campaigns — particularly in a state as pivotal as North Carolina — remained unanswered.
As the sun set over the mountains, casting a golden glow on the city below, it was clear that the road to 2024 would be a challenging one for Trump. Asheville, with its mix of liberal culture and conservative surroundings, would be just one of many battlegrounds where the future of the country would be decided. And for Trump, the challenge would be to stay on message, focus on the issues that matter most to voters, and avoid the distractions that had so often derailed him in the past.