Let’s start with the attempt to "swiftboat" Tim Walz for what J.D. Vance termed "stolen valor." The charge, recycled from Republican claims during Walz’s first campaign for governor, is that Walz left the Army National Guard in order to avoid being shipped to Iraq. In fact, he retired in order to begin his first campaign for a House seat, months before there was ever an order for his unit to ship out. But more important is the context.

Walz joined the Guard as a 17-year-old, served for 24 years, and ascended to the highest enlisted rank as command sergeant major. Unlike the life story of John Kerry in 2004, which made him vulnerable to the Swift Boat takedown, serving in the Guard was never central to Walz’s political persona.

Kerry came to prominence as a leader of Vietnam Veterans Against the War. In the 2004 presidential campaign, Kerry sought to define himself as both an anti-war figure and as a military patriot who had served his country. He opened his acceptance speech at the Democratic National Convention by declaring, "I’m John Kerry and I’m reporting for duty." As officer in charge of Swift Boats in the Mekong Delta, Kerry drew fire from the Viet Cong, suffered minor wounds, and received five medals.

The campaign to denigrate Kerry’s Swift Boat service, partly led by Trump co-chair Chris LaCivita, was built on lies, but it could do damage because Kerry’s military service was so central to his political persona and was important to counter his image as an elitist figure who lived in a mansion and engaged in fancy sports like windsurfing. Kerry was also so offended by the Swift Boat charges that he decided it was beneath his dignity to contest them, a big mistake.

Not only is his National Guard service just one item among many in Walz’s personal history, but he is about as far from an elitist as it gets in politics. He’s also a fighter, and the claims lack any truth. It’s also risky to bring up charges of stolen valor and evasion of combat when the man at the top of your ticket avoided the draft by having alleged bone spurs, as attested to by one Larry Braunstein, M.D., a foot doctor who was a tenant and friend of Fred Trump. According to CNN, Braunstein came up with the diagnosis as a favor to Trump Sr.

The other charges against Walz are even less damaging. The publication Human Events, obliquely raising the anti-abortion flag, contends that "Under Walz’s leadership, at least eight infants were born alive after botched abortions and left to die without healthcare" and that "Tim Walz made Minnesota a ‘trans refuge’ state, meaning that if one parent kidnaps their child and takes them to Minnesota to have life-altering transition surgery, there is nothing the other parent can do about it."

These are messages to the far-right base. For most Americans, Walz’s line that the government should mind its own business wins handily.

The Trump message machine also tries to brand Walz as a far-leftist for embracing broadly popular policies such as free college tuition, paid family and medical leave, a generous Child Tax Credit, as well as abortion rights. For the left, enemies like these are better than friends.