"Do you believe President Trump is a racist?" Anderson Cooper asked Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez on "60 Minutes."
When she answered, "Yeah. No question," Cooper reacted with a certain measure of incredulity.
Why? When Trump speaks, bigotry repeatedly rears its ugly head.
For years, Trump spread the baseless canard that the nation's first black President was born outside the United States, and thus an illegitimate holder of the office.
In 2015, Trump said of Mexico, "They are not our friend, believe me. They're bringing drugs. They're bringing crime. They're rapists. And some, I assume, are good people."
In 2016, Trump said federal Judge Gonzalo Curiel, who was hearing the Trump University fraud case, couldn't be trusted to rule fairly because "He's a Mexican." Former House Speaker Paul Ryan said the smear against Curiel, born in Indiana, was a "textbook definition of a racist comment."
As a candidate, Trump called for "a total and complete ban" on Muslims entering the United States.
He blew up serious immigration talks last year by dismissing Haiti and certain African nations as "s _ hole countries."
He labeled NFL players "sons-of-bitches" for peaceably protesting police shootings of unarmed black people.
He called some Neo-Nazis who marched in Charlottesville "very fine people."
It would be extraordinarily coincidental if someone who harbors no bias made these remarks and others.
Still, presidents are ultimately known by their deeds. Lyndon Johnson, who used the N-word with appalling frequency, signed into law the Civil Rights Act and Voting Rights Act. Abraham Lincoln, a white supremacist, freed the slaves.
The true problem is how Trump's prejudice manifests itself: He mines harmful, hateful tropes to divide the nation and reject the American creed. On that there is no question.
