The popularity of political outsiders Ben Carson and Donald Trump is shocking to many old-guard Republicans.FREDERIC J. BROWN/AFP / Getty Images
After a riveting, at-times-combative candidates' debate on Wednesday, the chairman of the Republican National Committee made his way into the thick of a chaotic spin room, eager to remind people about Newt Gingrich.
Five years ago, Reince Priebus told reporters, Mr. Gingrich tried to secure the Republican presidential nomination, and was for a time the leading contender. But then the winds shifted, his campaign sagged, and soon he was out of the race.
The implication was clear: Despite what the polls say, Donald Trump is far from winning the nomination.
For three hours on Wednesday, and before an audience of millions, the Republican Party's most intractable crisis was on full display. As its opponents in Washington prepare for a contest featuring perhaps two or three contenders – by far the most heavily favoured of which is Hillary Clinton – the GOP struggles to narrow down a field of 16 very different candidates.
And as the candidates' debate made clear, until a winner is chosen, the crowded race constantly threatens to descend to spectacle.
Hundreds gathered at the Ronald Reagan Library outside Los Angeles to watch the second major GOP debate. Eleven candidates were featured in a main debate, while four who have low standings in the polls participated in an earlier debate and one did not qualify for either debate.
Entering the debate, Mr. Trump held a solid lead over the other 15 candidates. But perhaps the most surprising contender was the man in second place, retired neurosurgeon Ben Carson, who has surged in the polls of late.
The popularity of the two political outsiders is doubly shocking to many old-guard Republicans – first because Mr. Trump's celebrity has at times overshadowed any substantial debate or policy proposals; and second because the dark horses' success has come largely at the expense of the party's mainstream candidates.
Having become more accustomed to the billionaire developer's brash popularity – and keenly aware of his substantial polling lead – several candidates took shots at him.
Kentucky Senator Rand Paul compared Mr. Trump's tactics to those of a schoolyard bully, pointing out that he has on several occasions made fun of people's looks.
Characteristically, Mr. Trump responded, "I never attacked him on his looks, and believe me, there's plenty of subject matter right there."
It was during such exchanges that the debate threatened to turn farcical, overshadowing more substantial discussion among the candidates of issues such as the war on drugs and social-security reform.
"If I were sitting at home and watching this back and forth, I would be inclined to turn it off," said Ohio Governor John Kasich, one of the candidates.
The clearest policy proposals of the night came from candidates such as Mr. Paul, who outlined his desire to decriminalize marijuana at a federal level, and former Arkansas governor Mike Huckabee, who proposed to ban all forms of abortion, among other things.
However, both candidates face a daunting uphill trek to secure their party's nomination. Mr. Paul is trailing badly in the polls, as is Mr. Huckabee, who additionally would have a very hard time appealing to anyone but the Republican Party's most evangelical base in a nationwide election.
With the exception of former Hewlett-Packard chief executive officer Carly Fiorina, who probably aided her campaign tremendously by making it to the prime-time debate and by criticizing Mr. Trump repeatedly, no candidate seemed to stand out in the field of 11.
Far from the pugnacious personality many expected, Mr. Trump appeared more reserved than usual, rarely interjecting, except to respond to a direct attack from another candidate with one of his own.
Most significantly, it was the party's mainstream candidates who largely failed to make up much ground on the front-runners.
Chiefly, former Florida governor Jeb Bush, who was once considered the leading candidate for the nomination, appeared at times wooden and ill at ease. His policy proposals, even though they were among the most well-articulated of the evening, sometimes came out seeming overly rehearsed.
At other times, his answers bordered on the inexplicable. Toward the end of the debate, when he was asked which woman's face he would like to see on the $20 bill (a softball question that nonetheless flummoxed many candidates), Mr. Bush said Margaret Thatcher.
As a result of stumbles by Mr. Bush and others, the party's front-runners now are two men whose proposals – and, indeed, personalities – were until recently unfamiliar to the Republican base.
Mr. Trump, who angered some Republicans with his plan to raise taxes on the wealthy and has offered few specifics on his proposal to build a giant wall along the border with Mexico, faced accusations from the likes of Mr. Paul and Louisiana Governor Bobby Jindal on Wednesday that he was not a true Republican.
Dr. Carson, on the other hand, has had an easier time presenting himself as a traditional fiscal and social conservative. But he offered precious few details about some of his more unorthodox plans, including a proposal to replace the current tax code with a flat tax based on biblical scripture.
More alarmingly for the Republican Party, however, is the other thing both front-runners have in common: virtually no previous political experience whatsoever.
Both men on Wednesday sought to frame their non-existent political track records as a good thing – an indicator that they were ready to shake up business as usual in Washington. But the fact remains that both men are still relatively unknown quantities to the central Republican machine and its wealthy donors who traditionally help finance expensive presidential elections. Indeed, Mr. Trump has made an active opposition to those donors a central tenet of his sales pitch to voters.
As such, once the contentious nomination process is over, the party will face an even bigger challenge: uniting behind its chosen candidate, whoever it may be.