Liberal Portland's City Leaders Adopting Iliberal Attitudes Toward Unhoused Population

In recent weeks, multiple news organizations in Portland have reported on the surprisingly tenuous future of Portland Street Response, a 3-year-old program described by Oregon Public Broadcasting as providing “an unarmed response to mental health crises or 911 calls related to people experiencing homelessness.” Rather than send police officers to address issues involving unhoused Portlanders, “the idea was to reduce over-policing of homeless Portlanders by dispatching mental health experts, social workers, or physicians to certain 911 calls.”

PSR was expanded several-fold last year, so that multiple teams of employees went out on more than 7,000 calls in a one-year period ending in April (a more than 500% increase compared to the previous year). OPB notes that an astonishing 98% of these incidents would have previously been within the purview of the Portland Police Department.

Given such impressive statistics — to which should be added the cost savings from sending an unarmed response, not to mention the concomitant reduction in the possibility of a police response escalating into a violent or deadly confrontation — why on earth are city officials and others questioning the program’s viability and future? After all, a recent report by Portland State University indicates that the program is largely meeting its goals (though it also identified problems in need of redress). And though it’s still new, the program has already fueled a wave of interest from other cities looking for alternative approaches to the vexing issue of homelessness (though to give credit where credit is due, PSR was modeled on an established program in Eugene, OR). It’s even received a national push thanks to some of Oregon elected federal officials, who helped make $1 billion available for like programs across the country.

The official city motto for Portland is “the city that works.”  This is a program that’s working.

Yet those most directly involved with overseeing the program, particularly Interim Fire Chief Ryan Gillespie and city council member Rene Gonzalez (who oversees the Fire Bureau), have recently cast doubts on the program’s long-term future. Most decisively, Gonzalez, who ran for office on get-tough policies towards the city’s homeless population, has indicated ambivalence about the PSR’s core mission and concern that it’s siphoning money better spent on other public safety priorities, such as improving the city’s 911 response system. Crucially, Gonzalez defeated the city council member who pushed PSR into existence, so that there is now no strong advocate for its existence left among Portland’s elected officials.

As startling as it may be, recent reporting suggests that it is the program’s very success that has left it bereft of allies and beset by doubters and outright opponents. You will look in vain for any substantive criticisms of the program, such as its failure to help the population it’s intended to help.

Rather, its critics rest their case in part on the notion that the program has grown too fast and lacks proper structure and procedures, so that it is time to hit pause and figure out what steps to take next. Such is the position of Gillespie.

More decisively, though, firefighters and Commissioner Gonzalez have indicated that PSR’s approach to the homeless is “enabling” those without housing. Simultaneously, acting chief Gillespie has restricted PSR from buying new supplies to hand out to the unhoused, pointing to PSR staff’s lack of proper requisitioning procedures and Fire Bureau budget limitations. But the critiques of humanitarian assistance that builds trust and immediately helps the homeless seem closer to the heart of the PSR skeptics’ issues with the program. Last winter, Commissioner Gonzalez actually ordered PSR to stop distributing tents in the wake of a spate of tent fires, stating that “Firefighters’ job is to protect people. The concept of handing out tents to a population that has high rates of mental illness and very high rates of heavy drug use, is mind-boggling.” This, in a city that lacks sufficient shelter for its homeless population on any given night.

More recently, PSR's practice of handing out clothing to the unhoused was also criticized as “enabling” by some firefighters interviewed for the recent Portland State University report — a criticism that helps us better see the more fundamental philosophical conflict driving the moves to undercut and even sabotage the functioning of PSR. You can’t help but wonder what exactly is “enabled” by giving clothes to a person in rags or even naked in the midst of a mental health crisis - a sense of dignity?  Becoming the object of the most rudimentary compassion and humanity?  The mind boggles at anyone who would callously refer to this a  “enabling” activity; it’s a turn of phrase that lays bare the cruelty behind the criminalization of homelessness.

It is not too much of a stretch to speculate that Gonzalez, who successfully ran for office on a punitive approach to the unhoused, simply sees PSR as both a waste of money and an unsettling challenge to his preferred approach to dealing with the homeless. His more old-school approach intersects neatly with his desire to maintain the support of the firefighters union that helped fund his run, and so he kills two birds with one stone by portraying the homeless as enemies of firefighter safety, vilifying the former while valorizing the latter. With the PSR unfortunately embedded within the Fire Bureau, he is also able to signal his loyalty to firefighters by suggesting its funds would be better spent on other Fire Bureau matters, while working to undercut a program whose very existence suggests a more humanitarian and long-term alternative approach to the unhoused.

Gonzalez has said that PSR has a place in the city’s homeless response, yet has already declined once to try moving the group into another department that might spare it unhelpful competition with funds for other Fire Bureau needs. But even as we see Gonzalez using PSR as a punching bag to build up his own tough-on-crime and homelessness bona fides, the lack of any vigorous defense from the other four city council members or Mayor Ted Wheeler speaks to a “tough love” turn in the whole elected city government’s approach to the unhoused. This attitude is most strikingly shown in the city’s ban of daytime camping, which went into effect this past week — despite apparently running afoul of a court ruling prohibiting such bans when there’s insufficient accommodations for the unhoused population. After years of an escalating crisis of the unhoused on Portland streets, city leaders appear to be embracing the failed policies of criminalization that arguably helped get the city to this crisis state in the first place. This is a dark turn for a city that not long ago had seemed to collectively understand the importance of housing-first, compassionate policies to resolve the agonizing issue of the unhoused.

Navigating the GOP's Post-Indictment Onslaught

The federal indictment of Donald Trump for his alleged mishandling of secret documents has provoked a savage deluge of propaganda and threats from his supporters in the Republican Party. This pushback aims to undermine the legitimacy of the case against the former president, suggesting Trump is the victim of a politicized Justice Department under the tyrannical thumb of a tinpot despot named Joseph R. Biden. Not only have some Republicans argued that Trump should essentially be considered above the law, but others have taken the opportunity to suggest that the entire judicial system is somehow out to get conservatives. Combined with some Trump allies’ hints at the necessity of violence to protect the former president, the whole spectacle signals that the GOP’s acceleration towards authoritarianism shows no signs of slowing down. As I contended last week, the outrageous GOP response is an even more important story than news of the federal charges against Trump.

I was hardly alone in lamenting both the media’s and the Democratic Party’s inability to grapple adequately with this larger context of Republican extremism, so that they might make fully comprehensible the news of the indictment to the broader public. Far too much coverage urged readers to take note of the “sad,” “somber,” and “unprecedented” nature of the charges, as if it’s a worrisome thing when the rule of law applies to the rich and powerful — but the good news is that lots of people seemed to notice this ridiculous trend. As Atlantic writer Anne Applebaum riposted in a tweet, “The horrible precedent isn't that Trump was indicted. The horrible precedent is that we had a president who repeatedly broke the law.” Other media coverage tried to spin the GOP response as a vague “polarization/test of our democracy” moment — but as Washington Post columnist Greg Sargent observed, “Stop saying the indictment "tests our democracy." The actual "test" we face is Trump's apparent crimes and the unhinged GOP defense of him, which effectively posits that any/all law enforcement activity involving Trump is inherently illegitimate, no matter what the facts show.” And though some sources implied America was at a crossroads for doing something that had never been done before (i.e., indicting a former president), they mostly never bothered to point out that plenty of other democracies have charged and convicted heads of state, from Japan and Israel to France and South Korea — facts no further away than in a recent primer by Flux’s Matthew Sheffield on the topic.

As for the Democrats’ strategic decision to refrain from anything like either a full-throated counter-offensive against GOP disinformation or a solid defense of the American justice system, the passage of time has shown how perilous this conflict-averse approach truly is, as the GOP has only continued to blast its illiberal message of distrust in those who administer the law. As former Obama administration official Dan Pfeiffer has warned, “Democrats need to go on offense to push back on Trump’s messaging before he discredits the investigations and distracts the public.” In the absence of a coherent Democratic strategy, the odds increase by the day that Pfeiffer’s dark scenario will come to pass.

In an assessment of the indictment, historian Thomas Zimmer notes a recurring pattern in which the GOP reaches certain crossroads with Donald Trump — such as the attempted January 6 coup — only to choose the path of adherence to Trump and the greater radicalization inherent in such a choice. Zimmer is right to suggest that the GOP’s defense of Trump in light of the federal indictment is another such branch in the road to greater radicalization, this time involving a wholesale denunciation of the justice system as corrupt and antithetical to the interests of Trumpist conservatives. Democrats could do worse than to take Zimmer’s powerful contextualization of the GOP reaction as a starting point, and provide a narrative that reminds Americans of the previous decisive points at which the Republican Party chose to increase its devotion to authoritarian means and ends. It seems that an accurate, dynamic portrayal of GOP devolution would be a more powerful message that simply saying “MAGA Republicans don’t share our values” (though the latter message certainly has its place). It’s critical that Democrats not only describe what the GOP is becoming, but convey the degree to which the party is still radicalizing, to borrow Zimmer’s phrasing. Not only would this allow the American public to better understand the nature of the current GOP, it would offer a powerful context for interpreting future GOP actions and rhetoric, given that the party only ever moves in one direction these days — ever more to the right.

Likewise, Democrats would do well to play up the corruption and criminality inherent in the GOP’s defense of Trump, a point emphasized by Crooked Media’s Brian Beutler, who writes that, “Democrats should (finally, at long last) wield Trump’s corruption as a wedge—make his crimes a liability not just for him but for any GOP pretenders who defend him”:

What could be easier? Whatever the charging documents allege, we know more or less what Trump’s exposure is. He mounted a coup against the U.S. government, and when the coup failed, he stole a bunch of state secrets.

Democratic leaders, with the possible exception of Joe Biden himself, can choose to exploit that division. They can note that Trump’s defenders have sided against the country with someone who tried to destroy it. They can mount a political offensive based on the importance of protecting these prosecutions from Republican sabotage and force votes on measures that affirm DOJ independence.

Like Zimmer, Beutler gets that the importance in the Trump indictment lies not so much in the crimes of Donald Trump as in the grand demonstration of GOP extremism and corruption it has provided. And as Jamelle Bouie highlights in a recent New York Times column, it’s not like this Republican corruption and criminality have come out of nowhere, as if Trump brought a blushingly innocent GOP to the dark side. Bouie suggests that Trump is in fact the culmination of long-running trends in the GOP:

Most things in life, and especially a basic respect for democracy and the rule of law, have to be cultivated. What is striking about the Republican Party is the extent to which it has, for decades now, cultivated the opposite — a highly instrumental view of our political system, in which rules and laws are legitimate only insofar as they allow for the acquisition and concentration of power in Republican hands.

[. . .] there is also the reality that Trump is the apotheosis of a propensity for lawlessness within the Republican Party. He is what the party and its most prominent figures have been building toward for nearly half a century. I think he knows it and I think they do too.

As with the points by Zimmer and Beutler I noted above, Bouie provides valuable context, in a way that breaks simplistic narratives that what is happening in American politics is unprecedented (Trump’s alleged lawbreaking) or incomprehensible (such as the idea that the GOP is going against its (undeserved) reputation as a “law and order” party). Again, it would behoove the Democratic Party to work more vigorously to remind the American public that GOP tendencies towards corruption are long-standing, and in the present day extend far beyond Donald Trump (just take a look at the steady flow of reports of Supreme Court corruption — a new one is out just this week! — to get a sense of how far and wide it goes within the party).

But broadening the field of what Democrats feel comfortable targeting about GOP-wide malfeasance and authoritarianism is only part of the challenge for the party. They can’t just argue about the Republicans as an abstract threat to the rule of law and democracy, no matter how important it is to defend those principles (and goodness knows I’ve made that abstract argument enough times). Democrats also need to grab the imagination of Americans, and provide an easy-to-understand narrative of what the GOP’s decayed state means for them personally. As Dan Pfeiffer observes in the same piece I quoted above, “If we want people to care about Trump’s criminality and corruption, we have to show how it affects their lives”:

Donald Trump isn’t running for President to help your family. His first priority is to protect himself from accountability and pardon his political allies, including the people who assaulted the Capitol on January 6th.

Instead of working to lower costs and raise wages, Trump promised to spend his time and energy using the power of the government and your taxpayer dollars to seek revenge on his enemies with pointless investigations and political prosecutions. Donald Trump doesn’t care about you, he only cares about himself.

This emphasis on bringing the consequences of Trump’s (and the GOP’s) corruption down to earth is spot-on, just as when people talk about the erosion of the rule of law it’s important to describe the everyday consequences of the rich getting away with crimes while the rest of us are victimized by them. As Pfeiffer notes, “We must turn the conversation towards accountability for the rich and powerful” — a principle the great majority of Americans should be able to get behind, being neither rich nor powerful themselves.

It’s crucial that the Democrats rev up both their rhetoric and their substantive fight against the lawlessness promoted by the GOP in the wake of Trump’s indictment, for a whole host of reasons. Such an aggressive stance would help dilute the damage GOP propaganda will otherwise do to the public’s understanding of the important stakes in holding Donald Trump accountable; it will help alert the public to the dangers posed by a lawless GOP; it will help protect American institutions from further damage by the Republican Party; and it will defend the Democrats themselves from baseless accusations of corruption. The post-indictment GOP firestorm is a good enough reason in its own right for the Democrats to step up the tempo — but we also need to bear in mind that what we’re seeing now, from both the GOP and the Democrats, is something of a test run in the event of far more existentially serious charges against Trump in connection with attempts to overturn the 2020 election results. I would hazard that what we’ve seen so far will rate as a tempest in a teacup compared to what the GOP will say and do should Donald Trump finally be indicted for his insurrectionism.

Going Haywire About Trump Indictment, Republicans Double Down on Anti-Democratic Politics

Without question, the 37-count indictment of former president Donald Trump for his mishandling of highly classified documents is an historic and momentous event. It’s the first time a former president has been charged with federal crimes, and the fact that Trump is the current frontrunner for the Republican presidential nomination means this indictment may have serious political consequences. Yet, as significant as it is, the indictment is overshadowed by an even more consequential event: the effort by broad segments of the Republican Party to attack the charges as illegitimate, up to threatening and inciting possible violence to make their point.

This deranged response, in turn, is part of even larger story, arguably the biggest one in American politics: the ever-increasing radicalization of the GOP into an authoritarian entity, one in which cult-like worship of Donald Trump, white supremacism, the specter of violence, and a growing rejection of democracy are central to the party’s identity. This ominous drift of the GOP was cemented in the days after Trump’s January 6 attempted coup, when the bulk of the party’s congressmen and senators rallied around their leader and refused to support either his resignation or removal from office. And in the years since that day, we have witnessed the party at both the state and national level take up the insurrectionary cause of demolishing democracy, from blatant efforts to restrict the votes of Democratic-leaning voters to the stripping of rights from American citizens, perhaps most strikingly in the abortion bans passed by GOP-governed states in the wake of the Dobbs decision.

The problem is not so much that the media isn’t reporting the actual events that are happening, but that they are consistently failing to provide the larger context for them. For instance, entities like the New York Times have reported on the immediate torrents of threatened violence that emerged from the right, such as failed Arizona gubernatorial candidate Kari Lake’s statement that, “If you want to get to President Trump, you are going to have go through me, and you are going to have to go through 75 million Americans just like me. And I’m going to tell you, most of us are card-carrying members of the N.R.A.” The Times has also noted the way that Trump allies “have portrayed the indictment as an act of war, called for retribution and highlighted the fact that much of his base carries weapons.” These are hugely important parts of the story of Trump’s indictment, and the Times and other news sources are doing a public service in highlighting them.

Yet the Times article noted above is also emblematic of the limits of so much of this coverage. Among other things, there’s a general reluctance to draw a through-line from the January 6 attack on the U.S. Capitol to this current round of threats; they are treated with an air of abstraction rather than as familiar inciting rhetoric that has already led to violence in the past, and so in this respect constitutes more of the bloody-minded same. (Notably, the day of Trump’s arraignment, far-right House Republicans held a pseudo-committee hearing aimed at painting the January 6 insurrectionists as martyrs, as described by Dana Milbank in a scathing Washington Post piece.) Tellingly, the Times article largely relies on experts on political violence (and indeed this perspective is also framed in the title, “Trump Supporters’ Violent Rhetoric in His Defense Disturbs Experts”) to describe what’s going on. I’m all for relying on professionals, but such framing distances the reader, as if it requires training and particular sensitivity to understand what’s happening here. The article’s point that violent political language can incite violence is a crucial one, but aren’t millions of American citizens also disturbed by this violent language? And aren’t Democratic politicians and (potentially) some Republican ones as well? More importantly, such reporting also ends up abstracting the GOP’s threats of violence from the larger authoritarian agenda involving rollback of voting and civil rights around the country that is already well underway, as if it were an unrelated phenomenon when in fact it’s part of the same anti-democratic juggernaut.

Media coverage of the indictment has also been plagued by a tendency to present this news as not just objectively serious, but as a “somber” or even “sad” day for the United States, and to highlight the supposedly ever more fraught state of American politics and “polarization” to which it contributes. But such editorializing and appeals to a sort of mythic median voter actually serve as a substitute for news organizations taking a more decisive position towards a GOP response that has emphasized lawlessness and lies, as well as towards Trump’s essential long-standing criminality. Instead, the indictment has been broadly presented as being a vaguely dark event for America — an actual (former) president has been accused of criminality!  How low we have fallen! — to which the American public should presumably respond with a round of soul-searching and possibly garment-rending. 

But as Josh Marshall notes at Talking Points Memo, the “sheer ordinariness of the whole story” is a key aspect of the indictment itself: “if you commit crimes repeatedly and brazenly you’re very likely to get charged with one or more crimes, particularly if you’re in the public spotlight.” Even acknowledging the gravity of the alleged crimes, the federal response in fact reflects the ordinary and proper working of the justice system: if there is credible evidence that a person has committed crimes, then there should be no surprise that they are prosecuted. As I discussed recently, this humdrum process is in fact how a democratic society protects itself: by punishing wrongdoers and deterring others from similar crimes in the future. From this perspective, the indictment should rightly be seen as a sign of the health of our government and democracy. The law is working to hold an accused wrongdoer to account, even though he is rich and powerful. This is hardly anything to feel sad or somber about: if anything, it’s something to be proud of. A powerful argument could be made that the day of the indictment was actually a good day for America — a day not to rend your garments, but to pick out a nice new shirt or even a pair of slacks to commemorate the day.

If anything is saddening or sobering, it’s not the indictment but a GOP response in which broad swathes of the party indicated they would rather attack the rule of law than accept that Donald Trump might actually have done things that merit a trial and judgment by a jury. There are plenty of other, arguably more appropriate responses to the Republican turn from democratic politics, including feeling disturbed, angry — or even determined to resist and defeat this retrograde movement.

A subtle dose of artificial amnesia has also been worked into the general coverage of the indictment. While it is a bedrock principle of American justice that every defendant is considered innocent until proven guilty — a principle that also applies to Trump in this case — this rule should be weighed against the degree of corruption and open criminality Trump displayed throughout his business career and his presidency. The prime example, of course, is his incitement and organization of an attempted coup in more or less plain view of the American people and press in late 2020 and early 2021. Whether or not he is ever convicted on charges related to January 6, Trump’s attempt to overthrow our government is by now an established fact, despite the propaganda of his defenders.

So we are not starting from some vague zero hour when reacting to the indictment, but from within the context of our existing, well-established knowledge of Trump. And that knowledge would suggest that we should not at all be surprised, or sad, that a former president has been charged with a crime, when that former president is specifically Donald Trump with his horrendous record of terrible offenses against the country. Again, the real cause of concern should be not the indictment but the Republican reaction to it — the effort by so many in the party to deny the charges or to attack the Justice Department and the rule of law more broadly.

The media tendencies I’m describing are driven by a set of incentives and constraints that have been well described and documented over the years. Certainly a desire to appear unbiased is central to the media’s inability to more accurately present the nature of the current GOP, as is an institutional inability to fully internalize the virulent, anti-democratic changes that have overtaken the contemporary Republican Party. So we should not be totally taken aback by the media failures I’ve described to properly contextualize and describe the relevance of the GOP’s indictment reaction to American politics.

What we should be surprised by, though, is the relative absence of the Democratic Party from the national dialogue in the week or so since the indictment was revealed and the Republican onslaught began. While it is understandable that Democrats would want to avoid feeding Republican claims that the charges are due to Biden’s or Democrats’ abuse of the justice system, some Democratic engagement with the charges against Trump seems warranted. The ex-president’s open contempt for the rules around top secret documents involving the “defense and weapons capabilities” of the U.S. and American “plans for possible retaliation in response to a foreign attack” is staggering, and his allegedly blatant (and occasionally Keystone Cop-style) attempts to hide the purloined state secrets from the FBI are deeply incriminating.

It is even less clear why Democrats would want to avoid taking on the larger issue of Republican radicalization that’s so sharply delineated by the GOP’s coordinated reaction to the charges against Trump. At a minimum, this creates a highly unbalanced public narrative in which one party makes outrageous claims about Democratic corruption, while the Democrats don’t defend themselves, much less attempt to flip these attacks around into a narrative of Republicans corruption and unfitness for office. Too many Democratic politicians seem to view this indictment and its aftermath with the simplistic perspective that it is just about Trump, drawing the conclusion that the best thing is to stay out of the way and let justice run its course. In this, some Democrats seem preoccupied with avoiding any inadvertent validation of claims that this is a biased prosecution unleashed at the behest of the Biden administration.

But this strategy makes a lot less sense when we see that the GOP response is itself a more momentous event than the indictment itself — that it represents not a defense of Trump so much as a wholesale assault on the rule of law. This includes claims that no charges against Trump can ever be considered legitimate, but reaches much further. No less a “moderate” GOP figure than South Carolina Senator and presidential aspirant Tim Scott has asserted that in the justice system, “the scales are weighted” against conservatives — either a delusion or a knowing lie on the senator’s part that manages to make the case against Trump into a symbolic case against all Republicans. And though some reporting has credited him with not offering a full-throated defense of Trump in his hour of legal peril, Florida Governor Ron DeSantis has fully embraced Trump’s talk of a deep state opposed to conservative rule, reportedly telling donors recently that as president he would “break up the Justice Department and the FBI and root out what he and other far-right politicians, like Donald Trump, are convinced is a cabal of “weaponized” bad actors working to go after their political enemies.” Meanwhile, House majority leader Representative Steve Scalise tweeted that, “This sham indictment is the continuation of the endless political persecution of Donald Trump.” And no less a figure than House Speaker Kevin McCarthy went all in on a defense of Trump, with Dana Milbank summarizing his commentary thus: “McCarthy began by calling the indictment a “brazen weaponization of power” and a “grave injustice.” He threatened to block funding for a new FBI headquarters in retaliation. This week, he accused Biden of stealing classified documents from a secure facility, and he said that Trump’s handling of documents (piled in a bathroom) was superior to Biden’s (in a garage) because “a bathroom door locks.”” 

This undermining of the rule of law also encompasses the violent and inciting rhetoric deployed by Trump’s defenders, whether it’s Kari Lake with her suggestions of an armed MAGA army ready to stand in the way of justice, to GOP Representative Andy Biggs’s “eye for an eye” tweet in response to the indictment. The good news is that the last week has brought a heartening reality check on Trump’s ability to stir up mass violence on the part of organized groups as on January 6, but those who study domestic terrorism and right-wing extremism warn of the future dangers posed by lone wolf terrorists inspired by the rhetoric of Trump and his allies.

Politically, though, it matters very little if it’s only a segment of the GOP indulging in the most incendiary rhetoric. As I noted above, even so-called moderates are participating in the erosion of respect for the law and basic accountability through paranoid and fictitious tales of a deep state out to get conservatives. Every point on this continuum, from outright incitement to mealy-mouthed talk about government bias against the right, forms part of a unified attack on the rule of law, and by extension, on the democracy it serves. And as I noted earlier, such attacks are just one facet of a much broader assault on American democracy occurring at the state- and Supreme Court-level to lock in permanent Republican rule and strip citizens of their voting and civil rights. Democrats should feel free to tar all GOP elected officials with the language of the most extreme, in no small part because they are all fairly well united in working towards the same anti-democratic goals. And not only are the furthest-right representatives and senators hardly being rebuked by their fellow Republicans — as the most ardent defenders of Trump, they also represent the center of gravity in the current GOP, where the former president’s popularity still stifles most criticism of his many offenses against the American people.

As has been the case before, a story in which Trump is the apparent center can be re-purposed by the Democrats to tell a more comprehensive narrative about Republic corruption and authoritarianism. A party that continues not only to defend Trump in the face of all that we know of him, but that has enthusiastically taken up the anti-democratic cause that he has done so much to advance, simply cannot be considered an equal or legitimate partner in government. The GOP’s rush to defend Trump, once again, at the expense of the nation is a fresh opportunity for the Democrats to rouse the American majority into a righteous fury at these corrupt men and women who would break our democracy and replace it with some grotesque polity cast in Donald Trump’s sociopathic image. Paired with a determined and comprehensive effort to name and tame America’s great challenges, from climate change to income inequality to unaffordable higher education, the Democrats might just find out what it’s like to win big again.

Malevolent Pledges to Pardon Insurrectionists Disqualify GOP Presidential Candidates

In recent campaign appearances for their respective presidential nomination campaigns, both former President Donald Trump and Florida Governor Ron DeSantis pledged to pardon participants in the January 6 storming of the U.S. Capitol. In doing so, both candidates sent a terrifying but salutary reminder to the American public that the insurrection that burst into public view on January 6 continues, in altered form, up to the present day. Coming from Trump, the promise means that he sees nothing wrong with his 2020 coup attempt, and would view a return to office as an opportunity to complete the demolition of American democracy. Coming from DeSantis, the pledge demonstrates how the rot of this same insurrectionary mindset has infected even GOP politicians generally regarded as mainstream; his defense of the January 6 attackers constitutes a not-so-subtle denigration of our American democracy, and an endorsement of the idea that our system of government deserves to be replaced.

Both Trump and DeSantis have tried to obscure the plain meaning of their words and anti-democratic animus by pairing their declarations with explicit attacks on the American justice system. Specifically, they attempt to move the focus of discussion from the crime of the January 6 insurrection to the supposed injustice inflicted on the insurrectionists. And so when Donald Trump began making the pardons part of his campaign last year, he “accused the justice system, which he described as “this radical left system,” of mistreating the defendants,” as summarized by the Washington Post. In a similar vein, DeSantis recently remarked that, “We’re going to find examples where that government has been weaponized against disfavored groups, and we will apply relief as appropriate,” echoing a right-wing talking point that the federal government is persecuting January 6 malefactors for their political views. 

Unfortunately for Trump and DeSantis, these are fairly transparent attempts to distract the public and the press from the terrible events of January 6. The defendants are being prosecuted because they have been accused of attacking the U.S. Capitol, the attack itself being part of a larger scheme orchestrated by Trump and his allies to undo a free and fair election that he lost. There has been no credible reporting of bias or corruption in the prosecutions. To say that the defendants have been mistreated is to say that insurrection should not be punished, which is another way of saying that insurrection is fine — which of course makes sense for Trump, since he’s the one who instigated it in the first place.

Similarly, you don’t have to dig very deep to get to DeSantis’s insurrectionary premise. The phrase “government has been weaponized against disfavored groups” intimates some awful abuse of power — but when you stop to consider that the “disfavored groups” are right-wing rioters who tried to reverse an election and seriously injured scores of police, you can see why DeSantis would want to hide his actual meaning behind lawyerly palaver. It only gets worse for DeSantis when you realize that “weaponized” is his way of saying that the Justice Department is simply prosecuting these people for their crimes. DeSantis’s words attempt to turn reality upside down, to have us believe that the government is engaging in criminal behavior by trying to prosecute those who tried to overthrow our democracy. In doing so, he allies himself with their cause.

But by pairing their pardon intentions with explicit attacks on the American justice system currently working to bring those insurrectionists to justice, Trump and DeSantis aren’t just retroactively trying to validate the Capitol attack — they’re actually working to advance its ends in another way. The justice system is a central part of how the country defends itself — in this case, by putting behind bars those who have sought to damage and overturn our government, and by signaling to American society at large that we as a nation do not tolerate such actions. To falsely claim that the federal government cannot be trusted to prosecute those accused of such threatening crimes is tantamount to saying that the country must not be allowed to defend itself — a breathtaking and frankly absurd proposition.

But it’s even worse than this. In emphasizing their planned use of the presidential pardon power, both Trump and DeSantis suggest that justice is better served by a single strongman making decisions, rather than a system of juries, judges, and lawyers. And so, beyond asserting that the legal system can’t be trusted and that the country can’t defend itself, they end up making a case for authoritarian government — the same apparent goal as the January 6 coup attempt by Donald Trump, which if successful would have seen him remain in power indefinitely despite his election loss.

So we need to understand that this pardon talk is no run-of-the-mill political pandering, like talking about the unsurpassed beauty of ethanol at an Iowa barbecue or promising Wisconsin dairy farmers to slap stinky French Brie with a hefty tariff. These are appeals that expose the fundamental unfitness for office of the candidates who make them. They signal both Trump’s and DeSantis’s clear comfort with the violent methods and anti-democratic ends of the January 6 attack, made all the worse by the way they also attempt to gin up doubts about our legal system and make martyrs out of the grotesque band of militias, white supremacists, and Republican extremists who attacked the Capitol.

Not insignificantly, the discussion of pardons also demonstrates their belief that the key to victory lies is inciting elements of the Republican base with a dark fantasy that the 2020 election was stolen from Republicans, a theft so awful that violence was necessary to rectify it on January 6. But more damningly, this talk also works not so much as a dog whistle as a rebel yell to extremists that their dreams and plans of violence are legitimate; after all, if people who attacked the Capitol didn’t do anything wrong, what can’t a patriot do to take back the homeland? Both candidates’ words threaten to incite terroristic violence against the American government and the American people. Trump and DeSantis are giving aid and comfort to extremists, reassuring right-wing militias that major figures have their backs and want their support, and creating a permission structure for future acts of violence. They are also acting as de facto recruiters for violent extremists, by signaling that the U.S. president stands ready to pardon them for future crimes. In the case of Trump, his past actions argue that he’s aware of and indifferent to these horrific downsides of his words. In the case of DeSantis, he’s witnessed Trump’s relationship with right-wing extremists, and appears to be interested in making them his own allies.

It’s bad enough for Trump to be making this pardon pledge — after all, the self-serving elements are obvious, since he has every interest in pretending that he committed no crimes or offenses in connection with the January 6 attack. But DeSantis’s adoption of it should make clear that even supposedly mainstream alternatives to Trump subscribe to the same authoritarian playbook as the former president, in which violence is fair play and a president rules best when he’s unfettered by the rule of law. It’s notable that DeSantis also indicated he’d consider pardoning Donald Trump were the latter to be convicted: pardoning a lawless president would in itself be an act of lawlessness, but just as importantly shows how DeSantis views Trump’s authoritarian attitude toward the presidency as creating a template for him to follow.

DeSantis has also been keen to highlight the white nationalism that motivated many of the January 6 actors, and that he believes will motivate Republicans to vote for him. He noted in an interview that, “some people may have a technical violation of the law. But if there are three other people who did the same thing but just in a context, like [the Black Lives Matter protests in 2020] and they don’t get prosecuted at all, that is uneven application of justice, and so … we will use the pardon power.” By referencing supposedly lax treatment of BLM protestors, DeSantis reminds the Republican base that it is white nationalists and white supremacists whose cause was particularly well served by the January 6 attackers, and mainly White Americans who are now behind bars for their actions that day. But DeSantis isn’t creating this connection on his own — he’s drawing on the text and subtext of widespread right-wing discussions of the BLM movement and the attack on the Capitol, though with his words he has given these racist messages his personal imprimatur.

To stay with DeSantis with a little longer — it’s startling to note that he made some of his remarks about pardons the same day that Oath Keepers leader Stewart Rhodes was sentenced to 18 years in prison for his role in January 6. Whether or not DeSantis timed his remarks to coincide with the sentence, it’s an ominous reminder that those who would stand to receive pardons include those convicted of organizing to disrupt the outcome of the presidential election. For DeSantis to not even bother to carve out an exception for high-level offenders like Rhodes in his public remarks is remarkable. At Rhodes’s sentencing, Judge Amit Mehta remarked that, “You, sir, present an ongoing threat and a peril to this country and to the republic and to the very fabric of this democracy.” I would be curious to know whether DeSantis agrees with this assessment, and if not, why. It is yet more extraordinary when you consider that DeSantis, a Navy veteran, seems to feel no outrage at members and ex-members of the military who betrayed their oaths in attacking the Capitol, including members of the Oath Keepers led by Rhodes. Much mockery has been unleashed around DeSantis’s lack of the basic people skills that seem to be standard issue for most politicians, but weirder still is his robot-like lack of outrage at fellow veterans who tried to kill democracy.

Pardon talk by Trump and DeSantis constitutes nothing less than an attempt to re-write the history of January 6 into something heroic and patriotic, aimed at feeding the paranoia of Republican voters about a stolen 2020 election while sending clear signals to violent extremists that their support is desired and their methods are sound. Such talk is unambiguously disqualifying for both men’s presidential candidacies.

The fact that the press has not focused its coverage more on these statements is part of a broader degradation in the public discourse that is tending to normalize behavior that should be considered by all to be illegitimate in a democratic nation. When the media fails to give such anti-democratic attitudes proper weight, politicians take notice, and are either encouraged to amp up the rhetoric (in the case of Republicans) or discouraged from making it into a bigger issue (in the case of Democrats). And when the public doesn’t hear either Democrats or the media calling something out as taboo, this cultivates confusion, indifference, and cynicism. Yet an ability to identify lines that can’t be crossed is essential to the health and survival of any democracy.

For Democrats, this is not to say that they should just obsessively reference January 6 and the Republicans’ general wish to douse that day in amnesia, misinformation, and martyrdom for the insurrectionists. As I’ve written elsewhere, January 6 is very much a skeleton key for elucidating the GOP’s broader agenda. Talking about Republican radicalism around the attack on the Capitol is both necessary in itself and also provides a way to illuminate other elements of the GOP’s anti-democratic and reactionary worldview. For instance, the violence of that day casts an even more sinister light on more peaceful and legalistic means of unraveling our democracy, such the GOP’s widespread state-level efforts at gerrymandering and voter suppression. As the right remains obsessed with whitewashing and advancing the goals of January 6, Democrats are also well positioned to ask why the GOP doesn’t have more interest in addressing the actual challenges of the nation, from climate change and health care to an economy hobbled by immigration restrictions and citizens unable to afford a college education. Why are Republicans like Trump and DeSantis so deeply concerned about the freedom of insurrectionists who are rightly doing time for their crimes against the nation, while remaining so unconcerned about the freedom of millions of Americans to live their lives with economic security, political equality, and dignity? 

Broken Oath Keepers

There are many contenders for the lowest point of January 6 — mobs of feral attackers brutalizing Capitol police; senators and representatives hiding in their offices, afraid for their lives; bands of insurrectionists hunting for Speaker Nancy Pelosi and Vice President Mike Pence; the sight of a Confederate flag in the halls of Congress — but one in particular always stood out to me: the way the insurrectionists were allowed to peacefully leave the scene of the crime rather than be arrested that day, shadowed by official assurances that federal authorities would pursue charges and take them into custody at a later date. Against the relief that the Capitol siege had ended and Donald Trump’s coup attempt had failed, a dark undertow flowed: would there be no punishment for these lawless men?

Yet after this inauspicious start, the Department of Justice has steadily pursued charges against the attackers. According to the Washington Post, “prosecutors say [the investigation] is the largest in U.S. history and has netted about 1,000 charges and more than 650 convictions.” The average conviction has involved a prison sentence of 45 months.

The last couple of weeks brought the longest sentence to date, as Oath Keepers leader Stewart Rhodes was sentenced to 18 years. Rhodes wasn’t the only member of his right-wing militia to get serious time: his confederates Kelly Meggs, Jessica Watkins and Kenneth Harrelson recently received 12, 8 and a half, and 4 years, respectively. Not only the length of Rhodes’ sentence in particular merits particular notice — his conviction on charges of seditious conspiracy make him worthy of special attention as we collectively assess January 6 and its aftermath (Meggs, too, was convicted of seditious conspiracy).

In Rhodes’ case, the basis of the seditious conspiracy charge was “conspiring to oppose by force the lawful transition of presidential power,” and the details of the government case fleshed out in disturbing and infuriating detail the extent of this conspiracy. The Washington Post notes that, “Rhodes spurred followers with growing urgency to be ready for an “armed rebellion,” organizing members who came to Washington with firearms prepared for violence,” “warned repeatedly that “bloody civil war” was necessary to keep Trump in office if the election results were not overturned,” and was in close contact with Oath Keepers members as they breached the Capitol.  One measure of the seriousness of the seditious conspiracy charge is that Rhodes was not charged with entering the Capitol or engaging in violence, but for being an organizer of violent efforts to derail the transfer of power; this level of planning and direction was viewed by the government, and a jury, as meriting such a harsh punishment.

At the outset, the seditious conspiracy charge was not viewed as a slam-dunk by the Justice Department, with the Washington Post reporting that, “Bringing the politically charged count posed a higher risk at trial because it required that prosecutors prove the defendants harbored an intent to forcibly oppose the federal government, compared to the charge of conspiring to obstruct a proceeding of Congress [. . .] But the department calculated it was worth the risk to try to send a public message by charging the defendants with committing one of the most serious political crimes in a wider attack on democracy.”

Such details of Rhodes’ offenses and the Justice Department’s successful prosecution make his conviction a milestone in the history and public understanding of January 6. It helps cement our understanding that the events of that day were very far from a spontaneous event by overeager Trump enthusiasts. Rather, far-right extremists allied with the former president targeted our government for dismemberment, both literally and metaphorically. They knew what they were doing, they planned to do it, and they attempted to implement their plan. 

It’s also vital that we call out the particular heinousness of the actions of Rhodes and members of the Oath Keepers organization, an anti-government militia that specifically recruited members of law enforcement and the military into its ranks. The perniciousness of such a group was evident from its earliest days, and the events of January 6 validate every criticism and fear ever leveled at the Oath Keepers (and indeed every other anti-government militia in the country). When a group pegs itself as anti-government, ordinary Americans need to understand the full implication of that attitude: we can now reasonably understand it to mean armed destruction of our democracy, and support for leaders like Donald Trump who might satisfy their dreams of an entirely different kind of government: one that is authoritarian, white nationalist, and willing to use violence to asserts its dominance.

But the Oath Keepers deserve a still deeper level of scrutiny and contempt from their fellow citizens. For veterans, or even active duty members of the military, to join such a group is a profound act of disloyalty to the nation as well as to the armed forces. And for people like Rhodes, to essentially use their military training — training given to them to defend the United States — to orchestrate and engage in violence aimed at overthrowing the U.S. government is a special category of treason. The same special contempt applies in equal measure to members of law enforcement who grotesquely apply their publicly-funded training to the subversion of the laws they’ve sworn to defend.

True to his low character, Rhodes was unrepentant at his sentencing, telling the court that, “I’m a political prisoner, and like President Trump, my only crime is opposing those who are destroying our country. Rhodes also said he would “expose the criminality of this regime” while in prison. Unfortunately for his cause, Rhodes’ continued determination to essentially continue his insurrectionary activities from behind bars should spur politicians and the public to apply unrelenting pressure on organizations like the Oath Keepers and their supporters. At a minimum, we need federal and state laws that ban any current or former member of the Oath Keepers or other anti-government militia from serving in the U.S. military or law enforcement in any capacity.

Pursuing the perpetrators of January 6 to the full extent of the law isn’t simply about abstract notions of justice. The insurrectionists tried to assert through violence that the rule of law no longer obtained, that political decisions and by extension the operation of our society should be decided by men with guns. For them, murder, mayhem, and intimidation by the armed few were to replace dialogue, majority rule, and social solidarity. It is a powerful thing to stop a man with a gun with the force of a law, and that is what the United States is doing with insurrectionists like Stuart Rhodes. The prosecution of Rhodes and his ilk is how our democracy defends itself, how we defend ourselves: we are collectively powerful enough, and secure enough in the rule of law, that we can go a long way in defeating their guns without ever needing to fire a shot.

Taking a broader view, the Justice Department’s stated interest in sending a public message about the seriousness of the crimes is laudable. More than this: broadcast of such a message should be taken up the media, Democrats, non-MAGA Republicans, and other believers in American democracy as an essential way to combat the insurrectionary and anti-authoritarian forces that are still alive and well more than two years after the Capitol attack. This is not the same as saying that justice has prevailed via these convictions; far from it. Rather, such condemnation needs to be paired with an awareness that the same forces that engaged in insurrection continue to exist, and that those who attacked the Capitol to stop democracy from prevailing are on a clear continuum with those in the GOP who subvert election systems, suppress Americans’ votes, and incite violence against the LGBTQ community. In particular, publicizing the sentences of those like Rhodes needs to be linked to the threat posed by pro-insurrection politicians, most prominently Donald Trump, who seems likely (at least as of today) to be the Republican Party’s 2024 presidential nominee.

At Rhodes’ sentencing, Judge Amit Mehta condemned Rhodes for his actions in unvarnished language, telling him, “You, sir, present an ongoing threat and a peril to this country, to the Republic and the very fabric of our democracy.” In putting Rhodes away for 18 years, the justice system has defended the United States from this single “ongoing threat” and “peril,” but plenty of other insurrectionists remain unpunished and at large to this day — most significantly, those higher up the food chain of rebellion, including Donald Trump. We cannot consider the country safe until the legal system, thorough-going political defeat, or some combination of the two comes for them as well.

Sexual Abuse Verdict Against Trump Rightly Shocks the Conscience of Decent Americans

After a jury found Donald Trump liable for sexual abuse and defamation in writer E. Jean Carroll’s lawsuit against him earlier this month, various political commentators rushed to declare that the verdict would have minimal or even zero impact on Trump’s tight hold on Republican voters. Just as with past revelations, such as the infamous recording of Trump talking about grabbing women by the “pussy,” they asserted that his supporters would simply dismiss or ignore the latest indictment of this terrible man.

But such assertions are too clever by half, awarding Donald Trump impervious power that he’s only too happy to claim. While it’s indeed likely that the vast majority of die-hard Trump supporters will not be swayed, there’s something tautological in staking this claim — after all, the basic definition of such a supporter is indeed someone who wouldn’t change their mind, no matter what new facts they’re presented with.

The far more relevant and worthwhile question to ask is whether more moderate GOP voters might turn against Trump due to this verdict, and on that I think an honest answer must be that the jury is still out. Certainly, if many in the media and political world repeat the line that it’s commonsensical for no minds to be changed, it could well end up having no impact. Alternately, though, one could envision a world in which opponents of Donald Trump talk up the verdict, argue for its salience, and even make direct appeals to non-MAGA Republicans that emphasize this unprecedented evidence of the former president’s essential depravity.

In a closely divided electorate, every vote counts. With Donald Trump leading in polls of GOP primary voters, the American majority should brace itself for a third Trump presidential candidacy, and prepare to defeat him and his party once more. Whatever might diminish the size of the GOP base and GOP sympathizers should be pursued; attempting to capitalize off a legal verdict that lends greater credibility than ever to the miasma of sexual allegations around Donald Trump is the very definition of a no-brainer. 

But as has so often been the case over the last few years, a focus on Trump’s loyal base and the GOP political class’ continued obeisance to him contributes to a narrative that over-emphasizes the agency of the Trumpist movement, and reduces the role of all other Americans to passive bystanders before the dark pageantry of this reactionary movement. With the Carroll verdict, a more compelling question to ask than the effect on Trump supporters is whether the judgment might further galvanize opposition to Trump and the authoritarian movement of which he’s the de facto leader. I believe the answer to this lies somewhere between a cautious and a firm “yes.” Rather than frame the verdict as just another example of unchangeable political dynamics, we should be looking at how it might impact the people who are even more important to America’s democratic future than die-hard Trump loyalists — literally every other American of voting age, who, of course, steeply outnumber those unpersuadables.

From this perspective, the verdict can be viewed as a powerful event with which to persuade, and equally importantly, to energize the pro-democracy, anti-MAGA coalition that has beaten or kept at bay reactionary forces over the last few election cycles. First, it’s a reminder that the legal system is starting to hold Donald Trump to account, augmenting the official record of his perfidy and suggesting the possibility of criminal charges being pursued to conviction in the future.

This is not the same as saying that we should be relying on the justice system to take care of Trump for us — but it is completely legitimate to point to this verdict as offering further justification for unremitting opposition to Donald Trump and the political party that continues to defend and venerate him. It is no small thing to receive such official notice that justice is on your side.

While some Republican politicians spoke out against Trump following the verdict, a sufficient range of GOP officials defended or refused to condemn him to suggest how the verdict fits into a broader case against the corruption of the Republican Party. It is the lowest of low bars to disparage a person found liable for sexual abuse, yet leading lights in the Republican Party simply could not bring themselves to do so. Some Trump loyalists spoke up for him forthrightly; according to the New York Times, Republican Senator Bill Hagerty of Tennessee said the verdict was “yet another act in the ongoing legal circus in Manhattan to take down Donald Trump,” while South Carolina GOP. Senator Lindsey Graham remarked that, “I think you could convict Donald Trump of kidnapping Lindbergh’s baby.”

Among candidates for the GOP presidential nomination, Mike Pence remarked that he “really can't comment on a judgment in a civil case,” yet could not help throwing Trump a lifeline by saying, “I would tell you, in my four and a half years serving alongside the president, I never heard or witnessed behavior of that nature.” Meanwhile, former South Carolina governor Nikki Haley and (likely candidate) Florida Governor Ron DeSantis declined to criticize Trump. (To their credit, former Arkansas governor Asa Hutchinson and former New Jersey governor Chris Christie both attacked Trump in the wake of the verdict, though both are long-shot candidates). In doing so, politicos like Pence and Haley signaled that they are more afraid of this abuser and what he might say about them, and more interested in their doomed quests to entice Trump voters, than about the maintenance of the most minimal standards of human decency. Taken as a whole, such defenses and strategies of avoidance demonstrate a basic indecency, cowardice, and unfitness for power, and remind us that the GOP’s vision for America remains one of misogyny, violence, and immorality.

Finally, and most critically, the verdict can help the pro-democracy majority see itself more clearly as America’s dominant force, by providing it an opportunity to not only define itself by what it’s against, but by what it’s for. The American majority supports equal rights for women, and mass solidarity against rich and powerful men who would try to convince the country that misogyny and sexual violence are simply the natural order of things. Behind the verdict lies the irrevocable physical violation and psychological abuse of E. Jean Carroll, and the decent majority can empathize with her experience and judge the perpetrator accordingly. The American majority supports justice and accountability, not the propaganda of the powerful and the gaslighting of abusers. Downplaying or dismissing the import of the Carroll verdict is to play Trump’s own cynical game, and to undercut the power and moral clarity of an American majority that stands against his return to power, and stands for a more egalitarian, free, and peaceful United States.

Targeting Transgender Representative, Montana GOP Joins Insurrection Against U.S. Democracy

With their decision last week to ban a transgender Democratic legislator from the statehouse floor, Montana Republicans have provided a fresh demonstration of the Republican Party’s full transformation into an authoritarian wrecking ball lodged in the heart of American democracy.  Coming just weeks after the GOP-controlled Tennessee legislature’s ignominious vote to expel two African-American legislators, it is clear that the anti-democratic radicalism of the GOP has only continued to accelerate since the defeat of Donald Trump in 2020.

Few people would dispute that a state legislature should be able, under certain circumstances, to discipline or even expel members. But the bar for doing so should always be kept extremely high, as such actions always threaten the will of the voters who elected these representatives. Most obviously, for instance, it seems reasonable that a legislator who threatens or harasses his or her colleagues should face sanctions.

But in Montana, we are seeing an entirely opposite situation. GOP legislators accuse Representative Zooey Zephyr of abetting disruptive protests at the state capitol, and of employing “hateful rhetoric” that might result in violence, thus violating Montana House rules. But what was this alleged “hateful rhetoric”? Zephyr told her colleagues that they would have “blood on your hands” if they passed proposed regulation banning transition care for minors who identify as transgender. In her defense prior to the vote to restrict her from the floor, Zephyr refused to withdraw this language, noting that, “When the speaker asks me to apologize on behalf of decorum, what he is really asking me to do is be silent when my community is facing bills that get us killed; he’s asking me to be complicit in this Legislature’s eradication of our community.”

Given the high rates of suicide and suicidal ideation among transgender youth, and the violence directed at transgender adults, Zephyr’s offense is not due to speaking inaccurately or in an inciting fashion, but entirely the opposite —her offense is because she has spoken truthfully, by referencing the violence at the center of the right-wing and GOP war on transgender Americans. The GOP is punishing Zephyr precisely because she has used accurate, illuminating language; the GOP considers it out of bounds because it is true, and reveals their own position as immoral and cruel.

The Montana GOP’s attempt to describe accurate language that specifically opposes violence as itself violent echoes the rhetoric of Tennessee Republicans who voted to expel two Black Democrats from that state’s legislature. There, the GOP took revenge on the men for engaging in peaceful protest specifically targeted at gun violence, claiming that such protest was actually violence. But even this doesn’t fully capture the Republican Party’s attempts to invert public notions of peaceable conduct versus violence. In Tennessee, Republicans went so far as to describe the Democrats’ actions as akin to the January 6 assault on the U.S. Capitol, equating a protest against violence with an actual, armed rebellion against the American government. Weeks later, Montana Republicans are repeating this inversion of rhetoric and common sense, bluntly accusing Zephyr of “encouraging an insurrection.”

In both Tennessee and Montana, the insurrection language is another instance of the GOP attempting to twist public perceptions of reality through lies and propaganda. In fact, the GOP actions in both states provide far more compelling evidence that it is the Republican Party that is engaging in insurrection, by an abuse of state power meant to disenfranchise and disempower the citizens who had the temerity to elect Democrats to the legislature. In both cases, the fact that the GOP is in the majority doesn’t make this any less of an insurrection — the party’s actions constitute attempts to subvert basic mechanisms of democracy (e.g., the results of elections) in pursuit of one-party power and the suppression of dissenting perspectives.

Despite the lopsided 68-32 vote in favor of keeping Zephyr off the House floor, the GOP’s attempt to assert its dominance suggests weakness and incoherence. The move to silence and disappear a transgender person may have succeeded in the context of this session of the Montana legislature, but it is hard to see how this clearly bigoted power play serves the GOP in the context of national politics, or even in Montana politics over the long term. At the most basic level, it makes the GOP look not like the defender of traditional western values so much as a party of bullies who can’t bear it when a single political opponent chooses to speak truth to power. As in Tennessee, the Montana GOP has made it that much easier for ordinary Americans to observe the moral rot and anti-democratic spirit driving the Republican Party, and for the Democratic Party to drive home a message of how GOP intolerance and hate leads directly to an assault on American democracy itself — a story that we saw play out dramatically on January 6, 2020, but now which continues to reverberate from statehouse to statehouse.

 The GOP legislators’ grotesquely disproportionate response on Montana’s sole transgender legislator also inadvertently calls into question the broader edifice of the Republican’s celebration of “traditional” patriarchal and Christian values. Among other things, the inability to grapple in any honest fashion with Zephyr’s essential charge — that GOP policies are hurting, even killing, transgender people — is ultimately a sign of weakness, not strength or confident belief in the morality of their position. Rather than engage in an actual debate — which one would assume the Republican legislators would welcome, so convinced they appear of the rightness of their anti-trans sentiments — the GOP is simply aiming to short-circuit discussion, by silencing and shaming the one legislator who has a unique and powerful perspective on the laws being pursued. At an easily-grasped level, the Montana GOP is acting like a gang of bullies; and as with bullies everywhere, it’s easy to discern a basic cowardice seeping around the edges of the mob’s bravado.

Against such corrupt and immoral behavior on the part of the Republican majority, Zephyr’s refusal to back down appears righteous and principled. The GOP legislators may be thrilling their hard-core supporters with their performative cruelty and authoritarian tactics, but most Americans should feel contempt and revulsion at their power play.

Recent Shootings Highlight Paranoia and Lies of Extremist Gun Culture

The past few weeks have provided another dose of senseless American gun violence, with a mass shooting in Alabama and a trio of random yet thematically similar shootings elsewhere in the country gaining some measure of national attention. Missouri, New York, and Texas were the sites of egregious gun violence where innocent acts were met with urban warfare: in St. Louis, where a Black youth accidentally rang the wrong doorbell; in Hebron, NY, where a young woman drove into the wrong driveway; and in Elgin, TX, where a high school cheerleader mistakenly tried to open the door of a car that wasn’t hers. But rather than simply decrying these as random acts of violence, the similarities in these shooting open a door to lines of attack against the gun rights extremists that hold sway over the Republican Party, and as a prod to a Democratic Party that treats gun violence as calling for only the most incremental reforms.

Alongside the obvious point that the nation is awash with weaponry, the trio of shootings noted above point to a culture of paranoia, vengeance, and racism that ready weaponry turns deadly at the least provocation. We all need to be talking about these aspects of the shooters’ motivations — the way that all three appear to have been primed to shoot to kill at the least provocation, projecting dark fantasies of home and auto invasion onto innocent citizens going about their daily lives.

This perspective also highlights a fundamental lie propagated by gun rights extremists — that we are all somehow safer if everyone is armed. The truth is more sinister — that the arming of America goes hand in hand with a paranoid notion that one needs to be armed, and is justified in shooting first and asking questions later. This places the unarmed population in the position of unwitting and unwilling targets for the hair-trigger brigades peering through their screen doors and windshields at imagined terrors outside. The truth is the opposite — the more armed Americans there are, the less safe we all are.

But what of the idea that if only everyone were armed, then we would all exercise restraint in our interactions, leading to a more peaceable country? The circumstances of the three shootings give the lie to this canard as well. In all cases, if the victims had been armed, it would have made no difference to whether they suffered unprovoked, sudden attacks. Was it young Ralph Yarls’ god-given responsibility to be armed that day, and to have struggled for his sidearm to shoot back as he lay bleeding on the ground? Were the cheerleaders remiss at not having AR-15’s close at hand, so they could have laid down suppressive fire against their attacker as they lay bleeding in their vehicle? Did Kaylin Gillis deserve what she got because she didn’t have a Glock in her glove compartment?

This is the GOP’s recipe for American peace, which is actually a recipe for American mayhem.  

In fact, I think we can reasonably speculate, given the paranoid nature of the attacks, that the shooters may well have acted as they did in part because they assumed their targets were themselves armed, and so felt it was better to get the drop on their perceived enemies.

In Missouri, the authorities’ need to consider whether the alleged shooter was protected by the state’s Stand Your Ground law highlights how pernicious and inciting such laws really are. As Kansas City mayor Quinton Lucas put it, “If Stand Your Ground really lets somebody just shoot somebody that rings a doorbell [. . .] that puts the life of every postal worker, every campaigner, every Amazon delivery person at risk in this country.” But we could safely amend this list of potential victims to any American who ever has a reason to go up to a stranger’s — or a neighbor’s — door. 

Our collective ability to identify with the situations in which the victims of these three shootings found themselves — going about their daily business, making innocent errors — is a powerful weapon for challenging and changing the culture of gun violence in America. We can’t let the paranoid, the racist, the trigger-happy define the nature of society as a war of all against all, in which no action is innocent and the penalty for making a paranoid person feel threatened is death or serious injury. There is no reasonable definition of a healthy society that fits this scenario.

These are the stories that the gun control movement must tell — of innocent Americans targeted not only by guns but by the paranoia and hatred amplified and incited by the gun rights movement, the way guns inevitably fetishize the violence they’re built for, and the way they empower extremists and racists to interfere with our fundamental right to go about our daily business.  Though they may only be a small percentage of shootings in the country, they are happening on a regular and not widely reported basis. Encapsulating all the sickness and derangement of the armed and ready mentality, these shootings may be wielded as a hammer with which to wake Americans up to the lies, fantasies, and paranoia of gun rights absolutists. 

The Right's Calculated Hatred of Transgender Americans

A Republican and cultural conservative war on transgender people is under full steam, and recent reporting brings into sharper focus the fundamental immorality of this regressive movement. As the New York Times details, conservative leaders see the targeting of transgender Americans as a way to rile up and invigorate their right-wing base. Since previous efforts to demonize gay Americans have been swept away by majority acceptance of such crucial markers of equal rights as gay marriage, and as a backlash to eliminating abortion rights threatens to turn current success into a Pyrrhic victory of epic scale, the conservative movement sees fear-mongering around transgender issues as a key way to drive fundraising and votes.

Particularly sinister is how right-wing politicians re-tooled early efforts to target transgender Americans when those initiatives met with widespread rebuke and failure, such as North Carolina’s “bathroom bill.” A little polling and cynical calculation later, Republican politicians and right-wing activists have seized upon the idea of parents’ rights and the protection of vulnerable children as the most efficient fuel for their anti-transgender hate machine.

Nowhere in this whole sordid effort is evidence of actual Christian values purportedly held by these social conservatives, which would at a minimum entail compassion towards the transgender community, and certainly not the demonization on clear display. Also absent is any real attempt to try to understand transgender Americans’ point of view, or to engage with the issues of identity and sexuality they provoke. Instead, what we’ve seen is a knee-jerk response on the part of millions of ordinary conservatives, seized upon and further incited by the calculations of amoral political operatives, in an effort characterized by sadism, scapegoating, and willful ignorance. With the religious right quickly shifting from complaints about transgender Americans playing in girls’ sports to outright bans on gender-affirming care, fear-mongering has quickly shifted into what is better characterized as hatred and repression — having decided that transgender people should not exist, multiple Republican statehouses and governors are now working to twist the law to deny the basic right to determine one’s own sense of self in the world.

As with the movement to eliminate abortion rights, extreme religious beliefs are being passed off as unimpeachable morality in the defense of innocent children. Look beneath the surface, though, and we see fear and bigotry masquerading as sanctity, cruelty cloaked as kindness, and immorality resold as righteousness. The fact that the rhetoric and actions of this movement are feeding stigmatization, cruelty, and violence toward the transgender community — that this purported movement to protect children is leading to actual, measurable harm to both children and adults — seems to matter not a whit to its proponents. This tacit embrace of violence is the final clue we need, as if more were needed, is that this is a movement that now only sees Christ in the rear view mirror.

Not surprisingly, the “parents’ rights” quackery of the anti-trans crusade has not been satisfied to stop with this line of attack. As the executive director of a Florida anti-discrimination group told the Times, there is “a direct line from the right’s focus on transgender children to other issues it has seized on in the name of “parents’ rights” — such as banning books and curriculums that teach about racism.”” The common thread is an urge to impose the right’s own hatred and ignorance — against non-whites, against non-Christians, against sex and sexual expression — onto everyone else.

Cultural conservatives, having been on the wrong side of every major cultural fight of recent memory, have now chosen to target one of the smallest and most vulnerable targets possible — transgender Americans. Bullying is among the least of the indictments that can be leveled against this movement, but ganging up on a population perceived as relatively defenseless and powerless provides a gut-level measure of how cynical this war on transgender people truly is. Anyone with even a minimal sense of justice should be appalled and enraged by this hideous scapegoating by immoral right-wing crusaders who, like a roving band of political junkies, are ever on the lookout for the next fix to incite hatred, goose vote counts, and divide Americans against each other.

Heading Out East on the Oregon Trail

What small state resident doesn’t get a thrill when the national media flick their gaze towards one’s beloved home, even if ever so briefly? Oregon had a sweet run of such sugar rush coverage in the early 2000s, propelled by Portland’s excellent food scene, the cultural caché of Portlandia, and, well, Portland’s excellent food scene. But then the coverage soured, particularly after long-running civil rights protests in the wake of George Floyd’s murder were distorted by right-wing media into a story of antifa run amok and a city aflame. More recently, after Walmart’s closure of its remaining stores within Portland city limits, Texas Governor Greg Abbott went back to that same smoldering well, landing one more sucker punch on our city and state by blaming, yes, Portland lawlessness for Walmart’s departure.

Yet Abbott’s early March put-down is not the latest instance of Oregon’s recent parlous run in the national media. No, that honor belongs to a pair of recent stories out from CNN and The New York Times that highlight a movement among some residents of eastern Oregon to break free of the state and join Idaho. As the Times reports, 11 Oregon counties have now passed resolutions requiring local government meetings to discuss secession; and in February, the Greater Idaho movement gained a measure of legitimacy as the Idaho legislature voted in favor of opening talks on the topic with Oregon (the Oregon state government has thus far declined the invitation to parlay).

The possibility of eastern Oregon counties joining Idaho remains a long shot: not only would the Idaho legislature need to consent, but so would the Oregon legislature and the U.S. Congress. Given Democrats’ strong hold on the state government, it seems unlikely that at least Oregon would ever consent to such a divorce, which would essentially strip the state down to a Pacific littoral. 

Does this mean the movement should be dismissed as a stunt, an ostentatious exercise in letting off steam by disgruntled Oregonians? I believe that treating it as such would be a mistake — not simply because its chances of success are not technically impossible, but because many of the ideas motivating this movement are wrong-headed, misleading, and inflaming of the very political divisions the movement purports to seek to cure or at least ameliorate. Permitting illiberal notions of statehood and community to spread unchallenged — treating this as a fever that will simply burn itself out — is the same sort of head-in-the-sand mentality that has seen too many refuse to fully push back against a whole host of authoritarian, racist, and misogynistic ideas that now animate millions of right-wing voters across the land. What we are seeing in Oregon is part of a larger national story.

***

To their credit, both The New York Times and CNN articles on the Greater Idaho movement take a serious-minded approach. But in foregrounding the voices of those in the secessionist movement, the Times in particular excludes important context for the meaning and goals of the effort. As with the CNN piece, the Times presents analysis and interviews that suggest this push is due primarily to a rural-urban, liberal-conservative divide — as, above all else, as a conflict of irreconcilable cultures, in which the western Oregon majority imposes its values on unwilling eastern Oregonians.

In doing so, such coverage adopts the basic premise of a primarily cultural divide that the secessionist movement itself claims as its motivation. The Greater Idaho website itself is rich with such vague cultural language, stating that, “If the United States were governed as a single state, we wouldn’t have the opportunity for state governance to vary according to the culture of a local area. The purpose of having state lines is to allow this variance,” and going on to note that the current state line “makes no sense in its current location because it doesn’t match the location of the cultural divide in Oregon.”

Yet, as you read further into the website, as well as the words of secession supporters in the media coverage, the vague references to “cultural” differences between eastern and western Oregon end up hiding as much as they reveal. Rather, those favoring secession seem motivated by specific political issues, as well as a sense of powerlessness and resentment. On the website, a comparison of the advantages of being part of Idaho versus Oregon highlights a cross-section of contemporary right-wing concerns, naming Oregon’s actual or supposed support of: transgender rights (“males in girls’ sports leagues”); school “Critical Race Theory”; sanctuary, driver’s licenses, and “free health care” for “illegals”; “Taxpayer-Funded Abortions,” and “Fossil Fuels being phased out.” 

The Times’ conversations with eastern Oregonians echo this theme of cultural issues that are better described as political conflicts. Of one such interviewee, the paper notes, “But even here, where she now runs a Christian camp amid the foothill pines overlooking the Grande Ronde Valley, she cannot help but notice how the values of western Oregon are held over the eastern part of the state by way of laws making guns less accessible and abortions more accessible.” Another interviewee “cited gun control and decriminalization of drugs as two major issues where the lesser-populated rural and vote-rich urban divide collide.” And another Greater Idaho supporter tells CNN that, “The problems [. . ] begin with rural Oregonians living fundamentally different lifestyles than people in the city of Portland. At the ballot box, due to the population strength of the cities, the rural region is outnumbered in every major statewide vote.”

Describing such differences — on abortion, gun control, and punishments for using drugs — as simply cultural or lifestyle conflicts, in which some people should presumably be free to live as they choose, is to present a misleading conception of the conflicts at play, and who stands to win or lose. Whether a woman can have an abortion; whether schoolchildren are protected from weapons of war being used for mass slaughter; whether a Black teenager should have his or her future ruined for smoking a joint: all are profoundly political questions involving the basic rights accorded citizens in our country, and the fight over which rights trump others.

By describing their wishes to secede in the more anodyne language of cultural differences, supporters of Greater Idaho are obscuring conflicts over basic rights, aiming for a generalized, libertarian proposition that everyone should be free to live true to their own beliefs. But as even a cursory look at say, abortion, reveals, it appears many in eastern Oregon are less concerned about their own relative rights around abortion, and much more concerned about whether they control other people’s rights to an abortion. In other words, while supporters of the Greater Idaho movement essentially talk about the ability to live according to their cultural beliefs, doing so arguably would mean restricting the political rights available to all individuals in their part of the state, should the secession effort succeed. The list of grievances I noted above only hammers home this point: illegals have too many rights, transgender people have too many rights, women have too many rights.

Crucially, the cultural conflict terminology obscures the degree to which the secession is essentially a rebellion against majority rule. The idea that the “values of western Oregon are held over the eastern part of the state” can be clarifyingly re-stated as “a government based on the votes of Oregon’s majority passed laws that apply in all parts of Oregon.” Not to be overly blunt, but this is just a basic description of American democracy; this is how things are supposed to work. Like a black hole at the center of the Oregon secessionist universe, we find a malignant and explosive assertion: that democracy, if it doesn’t yield the outcomes you favor, is indistinguishable from political repression.

This notion of oppression by the state majority is paralleled by another argument made by Greater Idaho proponents: that because they don’t agree with laws promulgated by representatives of the Oregon majority, many in eastern Oregon thus lack “representation” in the state. But this is simply not true. Eastern Oregon votes for and sends to the legislature representatives and senators who are involved with the legislative process in Salem. While it is true that they might not be able to get majorities to support their positions, the idea that eastern Oregon is without representation is a falsehood — but an illuminating one: it suggests that some who support the movement aren’t as much concerned with representation as they are with wanting to get their way. But in a democracy, it’s simply not the case that a minority of voters are going to be able to do so. Again, that’s just how it works.

But talking about the lack of political power does get us somewhere — from this point of view, it’s not crazy that some eastern Oregonians wouldn’t want to keep living in a state where they lack the votes to win the day on issues they see as important to them (the Oregon legislature has been dominated by Democrats over the last decade, and a Republican governor has not won in the state for 40 years). But this is also where we can see the distorting effects of framing this as a cultural conflict, because on issues like abortion and gun regulation, what’s really at stake are fundamental rights that belong to everyone, not just fundamental cultural beliefs held by some. What some eastern Oregon secessionists describe as political oppression is actually, from another and I believe more persuasive point of view, more accurately described as the assertion of basic rights on behalf of all Oregonians.

And this gets us to a third critique of the secessionist movement: that it seeks to erase the perspective and rights of those residents of eastern Oregon who don’t support secession, and who would stand to lose rights as Oregonians that they hold as precious — most prominently in my mind, the right to an abortion. Strip away the “self-determination” language, and what we see instead is a movement by some Oregonians to deny the rights of other Oregonians. This is certainly a perspective its supporters would rather other Oregonians not take, but I’d argue that this is exactly the lens through which we should be viewing this movement — as an effort to strip women of their rights, to impose radical notions of gun ownership on vast swathes of the state, and to roll back common-sense drug laws aimed at preventing the whole-scale criminalization of addiction and harmless drugs like marijuana.

If you’re an Oregonian who believes that every resident deserves the fullest rights possible, then beware the siren song that eastern Oregonians are so very different from the rest of the state that maybe it would be better to just let them go their own way. Secession would not just mean the cultural liberation and “self determination” of those who support the movement; it would mean the stripping of rights and benefits from thousands of unwilling Oregonians (among these benefits being in-state tuition to institutions of higher learning like the University if Oregon and Oregon State University). Reporting that leans too far into the secessionists’ perspective ends up downplaying the actual, current democratic reality of the state. Certainly equally important of representation is whether the Oregon majority agrees or not that a minority can hive off a chunk of the state and so deny eastern Oregon residents their full rights and benefits?

***

There is one final element of the Greater Idaho movement that the media coverage has severely underplayed, but that arguably looms largest and most ominously: the role of race as a factor in the impulse towards secession. None of the supporters interviewed say it outright — but just as stark differences about political rights are cloaked under talk of rural culture, racial resentments nonetheless swirl below other stated concerns. The repeated slams against not simply western Oregon but specifically the city of Portland, with its relatively high minority population relative to the rest of the state (particularly if you consider the greater Portland metropolitan area), are particularly notable. This is not to say that such disdain doesn’t also involve anti-liberal and anti-urban sentiment, but it would be practicing a certain naiveté to not suspect that the diversity of these areas is part of the concern. And when you look at the specific issues identified by the movement — critical race theory, the supposed coddling of immigrants — the same preoccupations of the white supremacist sentiment animating enormous swaths of the contemporary GOP snap into focus.

The failure of media coverage to more fully contextualize the Greater Idaho movement within the broader developments of conservatism and the Republican Party is striking, particularly when you consider that the eastern Oregon counties that have already voted to explore secession are overwhelming white (nearly all are around 90% white), while the parts of Oregon they wish to leave behind are far more diverse, and in the process of diversifying further, with its Latino community growing dramatically in size and political power over the last couple decades (Oregon’s overall population is around 75% white). Here, again, we can see the distorting effects of framing the conflicts between eastern and western Oregon as “cultural” — racial explanations are subsumed and repressed under vaguer talk of a rural-urban divide.

The significance of racial factors is amplified given Oregon’s shameful history of white supremacism (to its credit, The New York Times briefly nods to this history, but leaves the role of race to the imagination when it concludes that “modern extremist groups have harnessed lingering grievances over a changing culture or a government incompatible with their own aims”). Laws excluding African-Americans from the state were passed in the mid-1800’s, and it was admitted into the Union in 1859 as the only state with a constitution that excluded African-Americans from living within its borders. In the 1940’s, extreme racial segregation contributed to the destruction of a 20,000-strong African-American community located in a vulnerable flood plain. And in the past half century, the city of Portland has repeatedly dispossessed the African-American community via large-scale construction projects and gentrification. To this day, the percentage of Africa-Americans in the state remains smaller than in other Western states like neighboring Washington and California.

The omission of race from the coverage of the Greater Idaho movement becomes yet more striking when we consider that white nationalists have long fantasized about turning the greater Northwest into a white ethnostate, under the rubric of the Northwest Territorial Imperative. To be blunt, the fusing of overwhelmingly white regions of Oregon into overwhelmingly white Idaho feels just a wee bit white homeland-y — and maps on the Greater Idaho website showing a “phase 2” in which southwestern Oregon and parts of northern California are absorbed into a yet more corpulent Greater Idaho don’t exactly dispel this unsettling coincidence. And when the leader of the Greater Idaho movement, Mike McCarter, asserts that states should be based on “the idea of organizing like-minded people and can be adjusted to conform with evolving communities,” and cites how “divisions between the eastern and western parts of Virginia led to the creation of West Virginia,” one is not really reassured. After all, West Virginia split from Virginia when the latter seceded from the Union in defense of slavery, hardly an example of “evolving communities” relevant to the present day, and a reminder that secession has ineluctable associations with racial animus in our nation’s history.

***

All this said, it would also be a profound mistake to dismiss the alienation and anger of thousands of eastern Oregon residents, whether or not one believes all the roots of this alienation are sympathetic or credible. From one perspective, the Greater Idaho movement is hitting on long-standing tensions between democracy and individual rights, with many in the movement essentially believing that the Oregon majority is quashing their rights. No one should feel without redress for legitimate grievances in an American state, and part of the challenge in considering this movement is disentangling the objectionable from the legitimate. It’s also necessary to view this effort through the prism of recent political violence in the West and nationally; I am thinking in particular of the armed occupation of the Malheur National Wildlife Refuge in 2015, and the January 6 insurrection led by Donald Trump. A movement that is seeking through peaceful, process-oriented means to change its political circumstances should be accorded a basic respect, particularly when alternatives of violence have been increasingly mainstreamed by other political actors, up to and including a former president of the United States.

Yet, in addition to the criticisms I’ve already made, supporters of the Greater Idaho movement have embraced a flawed and unrealistic conception of what statehood means. They suggest that states should be communities that share a common culture, but this is a tendentious and largely ahistorical prescription for themselves and the country at large. America contains multitudes — racially, religiously, politically, and along class lines, among other categories — and desires for some sort of vaguely defined cultural commonality as the basis of a community are problematic on multiple levels. Rather, we should see our diversity as a strength, not a limitation; at any rate, it is our lived reality, and desires to deny or suppress it are always suspect. The path the secessionists are pursuing is not only anti-democratic, but rooted in a view of rights and values at odds with the more egalitarian society most Oregonians — and most Americans — support. The danger that a secession would drag eastern Oregon residents who oppose it into a regime of straitened rights and benefits is alone reason for the Oregon majority to take seriously, and seriously oppose, this movement.

But this does feel like an opening which Oregon politicians and citizens, particularly those from the western and urban parts of the state, should explore. Indeed, the coverage I’ve cited relays such sentiments from Oregon politicians and some of the Greater Idaho supporters themselves; some of the latter hope that even if their efforts don’t come to fruition, they might at least lead a reset with their western neighbors.

First and foremost, Oregon politicos should think more about prioritizing economic revitalization for rural areas that have been left behind compared to more urban and economically dynamic parts of the state. This might not address conservative Oregonians’ distress that abortion rights persist in Oregon, or that undocumented immigrants aren’t treated more harshly, but it could at least ameliorate the sense that the state is ignoring their needs. Among other things, the state could send far more money to rural schools, with the twin aims of improving education and boosting local economies (indeed, this is a basic measure every state should pursue, and that the federal government should subsidize).

But those who believe that Oregon is stronger when all parts of it feel included and respected should also think a lot harder about promoting a vision of the state’s common values and interests. The Greater Idaho movement is fixated on differences, some of which are indeed difficult or even impossible to bridge, but a countering case can be made that commonalities among all Oregonians remain far more powerful. Among other things, we all face together the challenges of slowing and adapting to climate change. We all want the best education possible for our children. We all want jobs that pay at least a living wage and provide a dignified workplace. The idea that Oregon’s differences are irreconcilable is rooted in resentments and narratives that may yet prove susceptible to the force of logic, compassion, and shared purpose.

Culture War, Real World Damage

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: You’re doing yourself a disservice if you’re not a regular reader of Jamelle Bouie’s columns. He reliably offers up finely researched and reasoned essays that often emphasize the role of historical context for understanding our current political conflicts. I really can’t count the number of moments of clarity and revelation I’ve experienced reading him.

I had one and very possibly two of those “Aha!” experiences recently, as Bouie addressed the Republican Party’s relentless and escalating war on transgender and gay people. Citing in particular the writings of Frederick Douglass, he suggests that it’s productive to view the GOP’s attacks as an attack on the dignity of these citizens. Bouie describes how the concept of dignity can be seen as central to the meaning and purpose of a democracy, illuminating as it does both one’s self-perception of worth and the interrelatedness of how others view a person. From this perspective, attacks on the transgender and gay communities not only deny these groups’ dignity, they baselessly deny them full participation in democracy. Beyond this, such degradations open the door for more to come; as Bouie writes, “To deny equal respect and dignity to any part of the citizenry is to place the entire country on the road to tiered citizenship and limited rights, to liberty for some and hierarchy for the rest [. . .] There is no world in which their freedom is suppressed and yours is sustained.”

His discussion of dignity and the necessity of defending it for all is compelling; but it was Bouie’s comments of the idea of “culture war” in the context of the dignity discussion that particularly grabbed my attention. First, though, a little background: probably more than I’ve written about, the whole “culture war” terminology has increasingly vexed me (even more so because I’ve had trouble drilling down precisely to my problems with this term). Generally, it has seemed somewhat arbitrary to label issues that encompass political rights as profound as bodily autonomy, religious freedom, and gay marriage as somehow not as real as economic or voting rights issues (this seems to be the hierarchy that many in the Democratic Party have tended to follow). It’s also seemed inaccurate to say that the GOP simply deploys such cultural fights as a distraction from more “important” matters (even if it is true that distracting voters from less popular parts of the Republican agenda, such as its economic policies, is a major reason for the party’s foregrounding of such cultural issues). Opposition to abortion and gay rights are extremely compelling concerns, in and of themselves, to millions of Republican rank and file; equally to the point, it is difficult to see how a woman’s right to control her own body, or a gay person’s right to have sex or marry whom they please, are somehow less consequential to women and gays than whether they are able to afford college or find remunerative employment. Such are the connotations of “culture war” that have seemed misleading and unhelpful to me.

So it got my notice when, talking about the attacks on transgendered people, Bouie writes that, “Politicians and those of us in the media tend to frame these conflicts as part of a “culture war,” which downplays their significance to our lives — not just as people living in the world, but as presumably equal citizens in a democracy.”  Exactly!  And this is where the discussion of dignity sheds some light on the stakes — if dignity is a centrally important element of democracy and of what makes our lives meaningful and whole, then labeling them as some sort of “culture war” sideshow is profoundly misleading.

Bouie makes another observation in this piece that raises a second critique of the “culture war” label. Writing of GOP attacks on transgendered people’s right, he observes that, “the important thing to note, for now, is that it is a direct threat to the lives and livelihoods of transgender people.” This raises what we might call the material consequences of robbing people of their dignity and political standing — without equal rights under the law, they stand to lose not just rights, but physical security and the ability to physically sustain themselves. And so culture war effects bleed into “real world” consequences. If the GOP convinces enough people that gays are perverts, their economic interests will be harmed, as fewer employers will hire them for the jobs they want. If a woman if forced to carry a baby to term against her wishes, she may well suffer economic harms due to inability to work. There is no clear, easy distinction between material and cultural issues; one flows into the other, and vice versa.

POSTSCRIPT THAT MAY BE LONGER THAN WHAT YOU JUST READ: Just as I was initially about to post the above, Jamelle Bouie came out with a new column that seems, at least at first glance, to sort of dynamite some of the conclusions I’d drawn from his recent pieces, and, via the power of the transitive property, some of my own rambling observations. Taking stock of the widespread GOP and right-wing media effort to label the recent collapse of Silicon Valley Bank as the result of the bank’s supposedly “woke” policies (e.g., the bank was allegedly more concerned about hiring diversity than keeping track of its loans), Bouie contends that there’s a direct link between such frenetic cultural warring and GOP culpability for the actual regulatory issues revealed by the bank’s blow-up. Noting the Trump era rollback of regulations that could have prevented or mitigated SVB’s problems, Bouie writes:

All of this is to say that if you want to understand the collapse of Silicon Valley Bank, you have to understand the political environment that led Congress to loosen regulations on regional banking institutions [. . .]

The people who blame wokeness for the collapse of a bank do not want you to understand or even think about the political economy of banking in the United States. They want to deflect your attention from the real questions toward a manufactured cultural conflict. And the reason they want to do this is to obscure the extent to which they and their allies are complicit in — or responsible for — creating an environment in which banks collapse for lack of appropriate regulation [. . .]

Put simply, you show me a scene from the so-called culture wars, and I’ll show you what’s behind it: a real issue with real stakes for real people.

So does this contradict what Bouie was talking about in the column I discussed above? Does he actually believe that culture war attacks by the right are about fake issues, as opposed to the real ones they serve to obscure? I don’t think so; rather, his more recent points in his column about wokeness bring into focus the fuller dynamics of GOP culture war talk and aims.

First, Bouie’s observation about the distracting intentions of rhetoric like the GOP’s obsessive talk of “wokeness” echoes a broad critique of Republican strategies made over the past few decades by people like Thomas Frank, and that you can find elaborated in books like Jacob Hacker and Paul Pierson’s Let Them Eat Tweets: How the Right Rules in an Age of Extreme Inequality. For me, this is a basic, solid perspective on how the GOP conducts politics.

But one reason Democrats and progressive forces in the U.S. haven’t been able to just make this “culture wars as distraction” case and drop the mic as millions of formerly unpersuaded Americans rushed to repudiate cynical GOP politics is because these more cultural issues have tremendous appeal to many, and because, as I discussed above, they actually matter to the quality of people’s lives. Many Americans do seem to care more about issues like cultural standing and their place at the top of the racial hierarchy than they do about whether the GOP has a plan to return manufacturing to the United States.

So I think the really diabolical and effective aspect of the GOP’s prioritization of cultural wars, at least rhetorically, is that it ends up serving not just one purpose, but two: it distracts us from what Bouie refers to as the political economy of the United States, while also serving the very real cultural interests of millions of GOP-aligned voters. In other words, it is the perfect two-fer, as it allows the GOP to act as the party of the rich while also plausibly acting as the party of the people, by delivering two different sets of goods to two different constituencies. Culture wars are a distraction, but they are also a thing in themselves that require a response from Democrats — not simply to lift the veil and get people to see what issues are being obscured, but because oftentimes they do reveal vital conflicts whose outcomes can have deep and meaningful impacts on people’s lives.

On the one hand, the GOP’s line about Silicon Valley Bank’s corrupting “wokeness” falls far closer to the smokescreen than substance end of the spectrum, and talking about it as a distraction without engaging in a prolonged substantive exchange on the deliberately protean term “wokeness” feels more or less like the right response. But something like the GOP’s demonization of trans and gay people can’t simply be treated as a distraction from other issues — it’s a real challenge in its own right, threatening as it does not only to strip civil rights, but physical safety, from millions of Americans. Even if it serves as a distraction from other GOP ends, “cultural” issues like gay rights must be engaged much more directly and thoroughly. Democrats need to learn to thread the needle, both engaging in cultural fights that are worth having while also ducking and deflating the truly misleading ones like the “woke” fight and pointing the citizenry to see what catastrophes the GOP seeks to hide.

Child Migrant Labor Is a Form of Child Abuse

A recent NYT exposé on migrant child labor in the U.S. is essential reading, both for its enraging descriptions of exploitation and for its portrayal of the systemic elements that enable this abomination. We’re not talking about a few isolated incidents — rather, the piece describes “a new economy of exploitation,” with migrant kids “ending up in some of the most punishing jobs in the country. This shadow work force extends across industries in every state, flouting child labor laws that have been in place for nearly a century. Twelve-year-old roofers in Florida and Tennessee. Underage slaughterhouse workers in Delaware, Mississippi and North Carolina. Children sawing planks of wood on overnight shifts in South Dakota.”

Exhaustion, injury, and even death are the fate of these children, who have often been abandoned on multiple fronts: by corrupt sponsors who get them into the country only to exploit them; by amoral businesses that flout the law by hiring on a child workforce; by a federal government that has allowed this systematic exploitation to mushroom; and by parents who sent their children northward with the intention that they work in the U.S. in the first place. As the Times notes,

The growth of migrant child labor in the United States over the past several years is a result of a chain of willful ignorance. Companies ignore the young faces in their back rooms and on their factory floors. Schools often decline to report apparent labor violations, believing it will hurt children more than help. And H.H.S. behaves as if the migrant children who melt unseen into the country are doing just fine.

But I would argue that when the results are so egregious, “willful ignorance” risks missing the depravity of some of those involved. Particularly glaring is the general absence of caring by the companies that hire these children — to wit, a broad absence of incidences of adult employees and managers taking a stand and reporting their companies for child exploitation. As others have pointed out, both the Times’ reporting and the behavior of those involved make it seem as if this as a story mainly of non-criminal violations, punishable by fines and other financial penalties. Instead, it seems far more reasonable to trust your gut here, and label those who “turn a blind eye” or knowingly hire child workers as monstrous, criminal figures who have broken the basic societal contract of ensuring the young are protected from harm.

Indeed, “child abuse” is a truer description of what’s going on here than the more generalized “child exploitation.” This is activity that abets or directly results in physical and psychological harm to children. One’s culpability in turning a “blind eye” is just the same as if one were to see a parent beating a child in a parking lot and choosing inaction. On this point, it’s important to note that the law does reflect these basic values of protecting children from abuse; the problem is that it has not been sufficiently enforced and that the penalties are far too light. The Times writes that:

Federal law bars minors from a long list of dangerous jobs, including roofing, meat processing and commercial baking. Except on farms, children younger than 16 are not supposed to work for more than three hours or after 7 p.m. on school days.

But these jobs — which are grueling and poorly paid, and thus chronically short-staffed — are exactly where many migrant children are ending up. Adolescents are twice as likely as adults to be seriously injured at work, yet recently arrived preteens and teenagers are running industrial dough mixers, driving massive earthmovers and burning their hands on hot tar as they lay down roofing shingles, The Times found.

One positive development in the wake of the Times’ exposé is that it apparently got the attention of the Biden administration, with a subsequent article reporting that, “Officials plan to initiate investigations in parts of the country more likely to have child labor violations and ask Congress to increase penalties.” Yet given the systemic nature of the problem, it seems a far more fundamental re-thinking is called for.  As Jeet Heer writes at The Nation, “Against the background of repeated failed attempts at immigration reform, many American companies have become reliant on the cheap labor that migrants provide whether they have legal status or not.” Addicted to this cheap labor, companies will have a continued incentive to flaunt the law unless the punishments are sufficiently strengthened.

Heer also points out the key role that years of failed immigration reform have played. He writes:

 The normal pattern of immigration is for parents to go abroad and send money back to their families. But the United States government, since passage of the William Wilberforce Trafficking Victims Protection Reauthorization Act in 2008, has created a perverse incentive structure that makes it easier for children to gain entry than for adults. The Trump administration exacerbated this problem with its child separation policy. The Biden administration was unwilling to change the reality of child separation, but didn’t want the bad optics of children in cages. Under Biden, therefore, the Department of Health and Human Services settled for a policy of rapidly and carelessly releasing child migrants to sponsors. This easy-release policy coupled with the current labor shortage (itself partly intensified by the Trump era tightening of immigration) created both the supply and the market for child workers.

Even as we can heap justifiable scorn on the Republican Party for its racist and nativist opposition to humane and economically beneficial immigration reform, it’s important to note that no one forced the Biden administration to engage in a policy of  “rapidly and carelessly releasing child migrants to sponsors” or otherwise continuing bad Trump-era immigration policies (all the more perverse given the labor shortages the U.S. is currently facing that are contributing to inflation and thus threaten Biden’s likely re-election effort).

Likewise, it’s worth considering the immoral tendencies in American capitalism that make such exploitation likely and even inevitable absent clear laws and stringent penalties. Jared Yates Sexton has written a great piece homing in on how the broader pro-child labor movement (of which exploitation of child migrant labor is an important part) rooted in the GOP should be seen in the context of a broader pushback against labor rights. He notes that, “Putting children into these positions is a perfect and insidious way to begin lashing out against and undermining the developing labor movement that is scoring victories with every passing day,” and that effort to deregulate child labor are of a piece with an assault on the minimum wage and 40-hour work week.

The Times exposé shocks the conscience, and raises multiple red flags about the ethics of many American businesses and the sufficiency of current laws that fail to deter abusive behavior. 

Walmart is the Health of the State

After Walmart announced its decision this week to close its two remaining stores in Portland, Oregon, we all received a reminder of how tightly wound and bound together the right-wing media ecosystem is with the contemporary GOP. Rather than simply treat it as an economic story, some on the right have used this opportunity to revisit tired ideas that the city of Portland is a lawless wasteland mostly burned to the ground during the civil rights protests of 2020. Among those moved to speak out is Texas Governor Greg Abbott, who tweeted, “All Portland Walmart stores to permanently close in late March. This is what happens when cities refuse to enforce the rule of law. It allows the mob to take over. Businesses can't operate in that environment, and people can't live in it.”

The context for these remarks is Abbott’s apparent intention to run for the 2024 GOP presidential nomination; with them, he’s doubling down on his right-wing bona fides — and the specifics of how he’s doing so are worth noting. It’s not simply that Abbott’s embracing a right-wing trope about Portland.  More specifically, he’s repeating and reviving a story line that the main importance of the 2020 social justice protests was not that millions of Americans were furious about unforgivable police abuses against African-Americans and other minorities, but rather that the protests were a nihilistic, violent explosion of leftist radicals with no motivation save for a communistic love of mayhem. The point is to erase all context, all substance from this recent history. Lies about protestor violence are used to cover up the reality of racist police violence. Propagating lies about Portland, Abbott is aligning himself with white supremacy and the police who enforce its order.

Abbott and others are also demonstrating another major tactic of American’s insurrectionary right wing — identifying blue parts of America as lawless, and their residents as lying outside the true American citizenry. Integral to this is an attempt to turn Americans against each other — in this case, to incite conservative rage and contempt against Americans living in urban areas. To Abbott and his fellow traveling politicians, the point of politics is not to rally the country to a common purpose, but to divide and conquer, to denigrate and dehumanize. As I’ve noted before, this should not really be considered democratic politics, but a form of authoritarianism.

In this case, the effort feels borderline absurd. Walmart itself has closed stores in Arkansas, Washington, D.C., Florida, Illinois, New Mexico, and Wisconsin this year; yet Abbott has nothing to say about the business-hating depredations of Florida Governor Ron DeSantis or Arkansas Governor Sara Huckabee (in Walmart’s home state, no less!).

But most ridiculous to me is the glaring role that Walmart has played in devastating small town main streets from coast to coast, as its big box empire put out of business thousands of small local competitors. These towns are home to much of the GOP base, yet politicians like Abbott not only seem indifferent to the destruction that Walmart has wrought, but are openly encouraging Republican rank and file to see Walmart as a victim of out-of-control liberalism. Save your tears for the Walton family, not yourselves! In this sense, Abbott is going for a two-fer with his comments — erasing the reality of police violence against Blacks and the reality of economic violence against white working class people in one cynical gambit.

Getting Rail Safety Back on Track

I wanted to flag Josh Marshall’s spot-on analysis of the East Palestine train derailment political fight (you can get the gist of it from the title). He captures the absurdity of the Republican attacks on supposed Biden administration incompetence, but more importantly, the clear space that’s been created for Democratic action on the actual issue of rail safety:

Republicans are simultaneously calling out corporations for not caring about ordinary Americans while carrying their anti-regulatory water on Capitol Hill. Democrats should run a freight train right through that contradiction. Only good things can come of it.

Democrats should pound on the fact at every opportunity that the Trump White House not only rolled back those regulations but Trump literally bragged about doing so on Twitter.

Marshall suggests that Democrats should immediately put forward legislation that enhances railroad safety regulations, as a clear example of doing the right substantive and political thing in one fell swoop. Indeed, as much as the Biden White House seems to have been caught flat-footed with the way the right-wing outrage machine has seized on the accident to air fantasies of a Democratic administration indifferent to the suffering of the derailment’s working class white victims, you can make the case that the GOP has extended itself way beyond any realm of credibility. As Marshall reminds us, we’re talking about a derailment plausibly attributable to GOP regulatory inaction that occurred in a GOP-governed state. It is, furthermore, an accident to which federal authorities did respond promptly, despite the obfuscations of local officials and Ohio Governor Mike DeWine’s decision not to ask for additional assistance when asked by the White House.

This is not to say that the Biden administration doesn’t deserve criticism for not strengthening rail safety over the last two years — but Marshall’s correct in that the best solution now is. . . providing solutions. As he suggests, there may or may not be enough Republican support for getting such a bill out of the house, but it would at least set the record straight on which politicians believe in rail safety and which ones prefer corporate profits over public health. Seeing as the majority of GOP politicians are ideologically opposed to federal regulation, this should be a clarifying exercise for the public’s understanding as to which party actually cares about getting something done (for a less jaundiced view on the possibility of support within the GOP for regulatory actions, check out this Greg Sargent piece). Indeed, it’s been an incredible spectacle to see elements of the GOP pretend it’s a party that believes in bringing powerful industries to heel and protecting the little guy — a sort of populist palaver indulged by Trump, copied even less authentically by his acolytes and allies, and not likely to survive first contact with either actual legislation or public scrutiny.

As on so many other political fronts for the Democrats, the best defense is a good offense. There’s no need to keep playing the GOP blame game — and as Marshall also makes clear, this is a case where, for Democrats, “the policy and the politics line up exactly.” This is no time for Democrats to be on the defensive; time to change the game in ways that aim to serve the public interest and reward the Democrats for doing so. 

McCarthy's Leak of January 6 Videos Shows That Trump's Coup Attempt Has Never Really Ended

I’ve got a bad feeling this story may slip off the radar in the coming weeks, but it would be a travesty if it does. House Speaker Kevin McCarthy’s decision to leak 40,000 hours of January 6 Capitol footage to right-wing extremist and Fox media personality Tucker Carlson is a big, big deal — both in terms of providing a preview of further corrupt behavior sure to come from the newly-empowered Republican leader, and in terms of what it says about the GOP’s obsession with re-writing the events of January 6.

As The Plum Line’s Greg Sargent describes, Tucker Carlson is likely to cherry-pick and otherwise distort this ill-gained footage in order to advance right-wing ideas that January 6 wasn’t an attempted coup. Taking direct aim at GOP claims that the party is simply aiming at transparency, Sargent writes, “But if Republicans wanted transparency, why would McCarthy grant access to only Carlson? What makes McCarthy’s decision odious is the granting of special access to a propagandist with a history of serial deceptions about the attack.” Indeed — McCarthy’s selection of Carlson as his interlocutor annihilates any contention that he made this move in anything remotely resembling the public interest.

Columnist Will Bunch points out that behind McCarthy’s abuse of power lies the far right’s efforts since January 6 to recast the events of that day as something other than a physical assault on the Capitol. For instance, Carlson has claimed that the assault actually was “some type of “false flag” operation in which outside provocateurs — maybe FBI informants, or members of “antifa” — goaded peace-loving Trump supporters into entering the Capitol.”

From this perspective then, McCarthy’s action is best seen, as Bunch describes, as "extending and advancing a criminal cover-up of what really happened on Jan. 6, the date of an attempted coup against the U.S. government.” This is absolutely correct, and the case Bunch lays out is irrefutable (as well as a typically great read), but I’d go a step further by saying that covering up the attempted coup is not meaningfully distinguishable from helping advance its successor efforts.

After all, not only has the GOP largely committed to defending Trump since January 6 (including largely opposing his impeachment conviction and the salutory ban on holding public office it would have imposed on the former president), but has proceeded at the state level to implement voter suppression efforts and other corruptions of the electoral process to ensure a GOP presidential candidate won’t lose future elections. As I’ve written before, the coup attempt never ended, but rather has broadened into a lower-key but incredibly dangerous slow-motion insurrection that continues to this very day.

McCarthy’s release of Capitol Police video footage to a right-wing partisan is yet more evidence of this ongoing effort. Apart from providing a propagandist with fodder for a counter-narrative about January 6, the release apparently provides security risks for the Capitol, revealing as it does camera locations and other information. Indeed, this consideration may well stymie the Democrats from taking the obvious counter-measure of releasing the footage themselves to mainstream news organizations — a strategy that Sargent recommends.  But as Sargent notes, Democrats are concerned about this very security issue, which they’ve already cited to attack Republicans for the footage leak.

This detail goes to the heart of what Democrats and the country’s majority are up against — Republicans simply don’t care about security issues at the Capitol, since they’re pursuing a larger anti-government crusade that sees such issues as secondary. From an even more sinister perspective, why would someone like McCarthy care about Capitol security when he’s now applying his considerable powers to covering up an attempted coup at the Capitol? The footage is already out there, and security is already compromised — as Democrats can’t do more harm on this front, they need to fight fire with fire by releasing the footage more broadly. At the same time, they should fully internalize the meaning of GOP willingness to prioritize its political goals over what should be bipartisan commitment to not making it easier for rioters to attack the Capitol in the future.

The larger lesson, though, should be staring Democrats in the face. The GOP’s continued obsession with re-writing January 6 reinforces how very dangerous the truth of that day is to the cause of right-wing politics. The events of that day and its aftermath have revealed the GOP to be an insurrectionist party not averse to using propaganda and violence to achieve anti-democratic ends. So long as a majority of Americans believe the United States should be a democracy, such complicity should be disqualifying for the Republican Party, rendering suspect every GOP politico who is not credibly seeking to take back the party from the religious extremists, fascists, and white supremacists who are now calling the shots in Congress and in many states.

In other words, the lesson here is that Democrats cannot cede the fight over January 6 to GOP revisionism. As Sargent notes of the right-wing media efforts to distort the meaning of that day, “Amid such supercharged information warfare, Americans’ memory of the Jan. 6 hearings can’t be relied upon to help them sort everything out.” Indeed — a naive belief that the revelations of the January 6 commission will somehow stand as an unwavering barrier to ceaseless GOP propaganda will only aid the coverup and the ongoing insurrection.

Instead, as I’ve written before, Democrats should view the events of January 6 as a skeleton key for communicating to the American people how badly the GOP has gone off the rails, and how January 6 is in fact a template for understanding ongoing GOP tactics and goals. From the election results denialism that Trump used to rally his troops at the Capitol, to the fake “solution” of GOP partisans taking control of election machinery in multiple states, to the racist incitement embraced by up-and-comers like Florida Governor Ron DeSantis, the GOP is a party that has doubled down on the grievances and lies that brought us January 6. No wonder Republicans like McCarthy don’t want to stop fighting the last war — it turns out that war never ended. How very convenient it would be if Democrats didn’t fight back, or convinced themselves that this is just a minor skirmish about history.