Before the first sound bite was uttered, Wednesday night's Republican primary debate in Milwaukee announced its theme with the sight of seven men festooned in almost identical uniforms — navy-blue suit, white shirt, red tie — echoing the signature style of the would-be autocrat who wasn't there.

The eighth candidate, former U.N. Ambassador Nikki Haley, got a pass for the fact of her gender (an issue you don't toy with in today's GOP). But the rest obediently paid fashion homage to the man most of them are committed to defeating without offending.

Former President Donald Trump wasn't on the debate stage because it wasn't in his own interest to be. And his own interest, as always, is the only factor that matters. He widely leads for the nomination in spite of (because of?) his multiple indictments for attempting to overthrow democracy and other self-serving crimes.

Instead of giving Republican voters a clear look at all their options side by side, he released a pre-recorded interview in which he vaguely but ominously implied that if he is brought to justice, violence will follow. It served (or should have) as yet another reminder to America of just how important it is that someone, anyone, from Trump's party derail this dangerous train before it gets any closer to the White House.

So for the first time on the same stage, there stood the alternatives — the last, best hope for righting the listing ship of one of America's two major parties: Nikki-rella and the seven dwarfs.

Had it not been for the Fox News moderators prompting them about it, you almost wouldn't have known these candidates were all running against a former president who the whole country watched attempting to overturn a valid election.

A notable exception was former New Jersey Gov. Chris Christie. His entire campaign is about derailing Trump, which would be admirable if not so clearly driven by his determination to rewrite his own political history — a history that includes serving as one of Trump's first and most reliable lickspittles in his first campaign.

"Someone's got to stop normalizing this conduct," Christie said of Trump on Wednesday. A chorus of boos from the audience in response illustrated just how abnormal this party has become.

Former Vice President Mike Pence could muster only middling condemnation of his former boss, despite the fact that Trump supporters have literally called for Pence's hanging. Pence's refusal on Jan. 6, 2021, to wield powers he didn't have in order to oveArturn an election he lost is presented as a profile in courage instead of the bare minimum that America should be able to expect from its elected officials.

"No one's above the law," Pence declared during the debate. But he also said he would give "fair consideration" to pardoning Trump, should he be convicted of the myriad allegations against him. Which is it?

Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis, running a distant second to Trump in most polls, did nothing more than solidify his standing as a tough-talking bully who, like most bullies, is ultimately a coward. Asked if Pence did the right thing on Jan. 6, DeSantis dodged, then dodged again — and again — until finally, grudgingly allowing: "Mike did his duty, I've got no beef with him."

Yet when the moderators asked for a show of hands for who would support Trump as the party nominee even if he is convicted of his alleged crimes, up went DeSantis' hand, along with all on stage except Christie and former Arkansas Gov. Asa Hutchinson.

Think about that: The allegations against Trump include gross mishandling of classified documents — an inherently dangerous situation for national security — and scheming to use fake electors and other forms of fraud to overturn an election so he could stay in office, in blatant violation of his constitutional oath.

Yet six of his eight top primary opponents couldn't muster the courage to say, No, we must not have that in the Oval Office again.

The candidate who probably benefited most from Wednesday's cavalcade of cowardice (other than Trump himself) was 38-year-old entrepreneur Vivek Ramaswamy, the most unabashedly Trumpian candidate of the bunch. Just days before, Ramaswamy made waves by suggesting in an interview with The Atlantic that 9/11 was an inside job, then denying he'd said it — prompting The Atlantic to release the audio proving he had.

No matter. A little thing like getting caught maliciously lying about one of America's most traumatic moments isn't disqualifying in a party led by a man who harangued his vice president for being "too honest." Ramaswamy has already risen to third in the field, and it will be a surprise if his unhinged but energetic performance Wednesday doesn't boost him.

It's notable that the relatively least-alarming presidential prospects on Wednesday's stage — Haley, Hutchinson, South Carolina Sen. Tim Scott — appear to have no viable paths to the nomination.

To get ahead in today's Trumpified GOP, you have to be a belligerent bully like DeSantis or a lying lunatic like Ramaswamy. And even then, you will likely run far behind the man who last year declared the Constitution should be suspended to return him to power.

Not that candidate attire is an urgent issue in light of all that, but the debate made clear that the red-tie brigade was emblematic more than just a fashion faux pas.

As The New York Times fashion critic Vanessa Friedman tweeted in reaction to the regimented suits: "Way to distinguish yourselves from the get-go, guys."

They didn't — on that or any other topic. The GOP remains in thrall of a narcissistic cult figure with a disdain for democracy, and the party's most prominent voices still refuse to call him out. Nothing that happened on the Milwaukee stage Wednesday provided hope for diffusing that dangerous situation.

REPRINTED FROM THE ST. LOUIS POST-DISPATCH

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