There’s lots of news out today suggesting that Trump’s antics and histrionics may be jeopardizing one of the GOP’s top aims: repeal of Obamacare.

The Republicans, who originally spoke of repeal, then shifted to repeal and replace, are now talking about “repair.” It’s unclear what that will mean in terms of concrete policies, but it’s very clear that enough of the leadership believes it is losing the political battle over Obamacare such that it now has to describe what it is doing in vastly different terms. Terms not unlike those used by Hillary Clinton during the 2016 campaign.

Listen to Paul Ryan as he twists himself into a pretzel:

“So what kind of got going on here is, I’ve got a confluence of words,” Ryan said during the television interview. “To repair the American health-care system, you have to repeal and replace this law, and that’s what we’re doing.”

Kind of like Selena Meyer forgetting what “the three R’s” were during that presidential debate on Veep.

Part of the reason the Republicans have lost the script on Obamacare has to do with the program itself, and the difficulties they’re running into in repealing it. But part of it, as the New York Times is reporting tonight, has to do with commotion Trump has caused with his Cabinet appointments and his executive orders, and the massive resistance both have provoked.

Congress’s rush to dismantle the Affordable Care Act, once seemingly unstoppable, is flagging badly as Republicans struggle to come up with a replacement and a key senator has declared that the effort is more a repair job than a demolition . . .

An aspirational deadline of Jan. 27 for repeal legislation has come and gone. The powerful retirees’ lobby AARP is mobilizing to defend key elements of the Affordable Care Act. Republican leaders who once saw a health law repeal as a quick first strike in the Trump era now must at least consider a worst case: unable to move forward with comprehensive health legislation, even as the uncertainty that they helped foster rattles consumers and insurers . . .

When Congress convened this year, Republicans immediately introduced a budget resolution clearing the way for legislation to gut the health law, with strong support from Mr. Trump, who took office 17 days later. But Mr. Trump’s rocky start has slowed the momentum, depleting his political capital and dimming prospects for bipartisan cooperation . . .

In addition, many senators are preoccupied with fights over the confirmation of Mr. Trump’s nominees to the Supreme Court and top jobs in his administration. What was once considered Congress’s Job No. 1 is being eclipsed for some lawmakers by more immediate matters.

It’s way too early to tell what will happen, but at a minimum, it’s clear that Trump’s way of doing business is getting in the way, at least right now, of the GOP’s business. The more that happens — and the more the GOP is forced to beat a further retreat on Obamacare (and perhaps other issues) — the more enraged the base will get. Either with Trump or with the GOP. Either way, things could get hairy, internally, for the party.

But I want to step from this immediate news to raise a larger issue.

Let’s assume, for the sake of the argument, that these tensions and instabilities in the Trump regime are there, if not growing. The military is already blaming Trump for its mishaps in the field. Already 40 percent of the country are saying that they’d like to see Trump impeached. And we’re still less than two weeks into his presidency.

As historian Kevin Kruse pointed out on Twitter tonight, it wasn’t until sixteen months into the Watergate scandal that you saw impeachment numbers like that during Nixon’s second term. It’s not a great comparison, given the level of polarization in the country today versus then, but what those polling numbers (and Trump’s historically low, dismal, approval ratings) do tell us is that rather than expand his or the party’s base, Trump has shrunk it. Not something presidents in their second week in office seek or tend to do.

So, then, the question becomes: Assuming they could have gotten the nomination, was there any other Republican who could have done better, who could have unified and led the party, if not the country, more?

All the other Republican candidates were loathed by the party faithful even more than Trump was. None of them knew how to bring together together the base, which wanted blood, and get themselves into the White House at the same time. Maybe Kasich or Rubio could have done that, but they were the biggest losers of the final four. They were the equivalent of Scoop Jackson in the Democratic Party, who many party leaders hoped might raise the standard against the Republicans despite the fact that virtually no one supported him besides themselves.

While it’s easy to get caught up in the personalities, politics, and policies of the Trump administration — and no matter how revanchist and right-wing the Republican Party is, it’s difficult to imagine a Cruz presidency seeming quite like this — we have to see the unprecedented opposition to their rule as a symptom of not only their hamfisted tactics but also of the waning unity and power of conservatism itself. Both internally within the Republican Party — it was clear that the party faithful wanted something more than what Bush, Romney, Ryan, and McConnell had provided — and beyond the Republican Party.

In fact, it was the singular insight of Trump and Bannon to recognize that waning power of conservatism and to act on it. That’s what prompted their critique of the Republican Party; that’s what enabled them to take it over; and that is what remains, to this day, the premise of their rule. While much of the bravado and commotion of the past two weeks, I continue to believe, is more the product of incompetence and artlessness than design, there’s little doubt that a winging-it improvisational style is something Trump has always prized. As he says in the second paragraph of The Art of the Deal — the only passage in this 367-page book in which I could find anything resembling a coherent idea —

Most people are surprised by the way I work. I play it very loose. I don’t carry a briefcase. I try not to schedule too many meetings. I leave my door open. You can’t be imaginative or entrepreneurial if you’ve got too much structure. I prefer to come to work each day and just see what develops.

With that chaotic style, which Trump and Bannon mistake for substance, they’re hoping to turn weakness into strength. I have my doubts that they can do that, as I’ve said many times, but the more important point is that this was the best the Republican Party could do.

In other words, in some very fundamental and palpable way, the Republican Party had no other choice but to nominate Trump. This — this last-ditch gamble of his — was their only hope.