Don Wooten: Of Trump's 100 days and the impending conclave

The events discussed in last Sunday's column continue to echo this week.

President Trump's first 100 days in his second term ended last Tuesday, setting off a delusional celebration and a flurry of critical reactions. The nine-day period of mourning for Pope Francis ends this Tuesday, with a conclave to name his successor opening the very next day. Both merit further consideration.

Trump went to Michigan last Tuesday to deliver a 90-minute summation of his accomplishments thus far. It was largely a reprise of his standard campaign speech, along with complaints that he isn't getting enough credit for his accomplishments. He once again blamed Joe Biden for the nation's problems and claimed he won in 2020. He also took time to criticize Federal Reserve Chairman Jerome Powell, the media, and "fake polls" that showed him with a 44% approval rating; "if it were a legit poll, it would be in the 60s or 70s — these people are a bunch of crooked people."

He defended his tariffs and immigration program: "We are delivering mass deportation, and it's happening very fast. And the worst of the worst are being sent to a no-nonsense prison in El Salvador." He then showed videos of prisoners having their heads shaved, being bent over and marched into cells. The crowd cheered.

Further cheers were delivered in a subsequent cabinet meeting when its members competed in a circle of sycophancy, each trying to top the others in extravagant praise of the man to whom they owe their jobs. Others, outside the MAGA cult, have been more critical.

Many commentators drew a contrast between Trump and the president who gave us the first 100-day standard, Franklin Delano Roosevelt.

When FDR took office in 1933, the country was in the depths of the Great Depression: "A stricken nation in the midst of a stricken world" as he put it. He immediately called Congress into a special, three-month session and closed the entire American banking system. He and Congress passed the Emergency Banking Act, which was used to create federal deposit insurance before the banks reopened. He then spoke to 60 million radio listeners, telling them "what has been done in the last few days, why it was done, and what the next steps are going to be." Within two weeks, people returned the money they had been hoarding to their banks and the economy stabilized.

During that 100-day period, 15 landmark pieces of legislation and 77 other laws were enacted which constituted the New Deal, forming a government that has sustained the nation ever since.

About six weeks after that opening burst of activity, Roosevelt gave another talk to the nation, reflecting on what had been done during that 100 day interval. Since that time, subsequent presidents have used their first 100 days as a benchmark of their time in office.

Trump is no exception. Armed with executive orders prepared by the Heritage Foundation's 2025 Project, he signed 142 of them, beating FDR's 99; but has signed only 5 laws, far short of FDR's 92. Trump has chosen to rule by fiat; largely bypassing Congress.

If you have watched recent television programs, you have probably seen various journalists drawing contrasts between Trump's record and FDR's. It's important to remember that each man was serving in different times and circumstances. All presidents since Roosevelt have continued to operate within the framework that he established some 90 years ago. The main difference between presidents 32 and 47 is that the former was building a nation that continues to serve the ordinary citizen; the latter is dismantling it for reasons that have yet to be explained.

Continuity is also at question in the conclave that opens Wednesday at the Vatican. The number of cardinals participating is 133, 13 more than the normal limit. Their proceedings will be kept secret, so one can only guess how they go about choosing the next Pope. Are candidates nominated? Do they campaign?

While the process is secret, some information occasionally leaks. When Pope John XXIII was elected it was because the man most wanted was Giovanni Montini, but he wasn't a cardinal. That actually isn't an impediment; cardinals can choose whom they please, but the practice has been to name one of their own. So, they settled on 77-year-old Angelo Roncalli with one stipulation: he was to name Montini a cardinal, which he did.

The expectation was that John XXIII would not live long. He lasted only five years, but during that time, he called a church council which suddenly opened the Catholic Church to reform, something those who selected him did not anticipate or desire. At his death, Montini, the one they preferred, became Paul VI. After Paul, the conclave elected a genial pastoral prelate Albino Luciani who took the name John Paul I, only to die 33 days later.

The following conclave was a contest between two Italian cardinals, each with a solid, unyielding bloc of votes. When it became obvious neither side would concede, the conclave turned to an unlikely choice, Cardinal Karol Wojtyla of Poland: Pope John Paul II.

Now, Francis' successor must be chosen. There is no obvious front-runner. Traditionalists from the United States and Africa may make common cause, but in support of whom? Cardinals rarely know one another. They come from across the globe and seldom have occasion to spend time getting to know their equals. Probably the one most familiar is Cardinal Pietro Parolin, the Vatican's Secretary of State. The 70-year-old Parolin is, in a sense, second only to the Pope and the one cardinal in frequent contact with all the others.

The overriding question is, will the conclave give us another Francis or another hard-liner like John Paul II? The outcome is as hard to predict as Trump's next 100 days.