The Republican Party has made clear that it dislikes pronouns. But two in particular have become fundamental to its perception of the world: “they” and “them.”

A few hours after the former president was shot on July 13, Republican U.S. Representative Cory Mills of Florida wrote of X: “First they tried to silence him. They’re trying to lock him up. Then they tried to kill him. ”

Mills did not need to explain what he meant by “they” because it was obvious to his fellow Republicans. It doesn’t matter that the real shooter was identified two decades later as a white, American-born, registered Republican. No matter who pulled the trigger, the real enemy was always ‘them’ and ‘them’; The vigilantes, the left, the mainstream media, a coalition of losers to take revenge and stop the robbers of American society that Trump calls his book. He was talking about his patriotic muscles rising.

Republicans don’t just hate “them” and “them” for their use of gender (though they use it so angrily that those words are perceived by those who don’t dichotomize their identities). So the word became even more; a symbol of latent fear, of impossible isolation, of the great and growing enemy both within and beyond the borders of the United States.

Message sent: “We have no soul to share. No more bread.”

And despite his promise to use his candidacy as an opportunity to promote public healing and civil liberties, Donald Trump increasingly attacked the Republican National Convention, hurling sexism and xenophobia at them while describing America’s “problematic” immigration as “the spread of misery, crime, and crime.” He called for “poverty, disease, and devastation for people all across our country,” and decried how our cities were “flooded” and the worst attack in history was being carried out by homicidal maniacs “not just from Latin America, but from all over the world.” Africa, Asia, and (the Middle East).