On the Friday before Thanksgiving, the House finally passed the omnibus “Build Back Better” bill and sent it to the Senate, which can be expected to change it significantly before passing it (though approval is hardly a certainty). Jonathan Bernstein, noting further vindication of the Democrats’ two-bill strategy, observed, “It’s unlikely that either the most liberal or more moderate House Democrats would have voted for the bill on Friday without reasonable confidence that all 50 Democratic senators are willing to go along.”
Moderates made a stand for reversing the SALT deduction limits (that punished taxpayers in several large blue states) in Trump’s tax bill (though repeal will likely get watered down or stripped out of the final bill); progressives made a stand to nudge two reluctant Democratic senators, and then relented (because they made a judgment that this would boost their chances of generating a win); and, since Senators Manchin and Sinema accrue benefits when their party and their president succeed, the prospects for passage are promising.
Win-win politics
To sum up: both the most liberal and the most conservative Democrats in the House won something substantial. With final passage (if it comes), every Democrat in both chambers will score a victory (even after months of contentious public negotiations, complete with the familiar Democrats in disarray narrative).
This is the way small-d democratic politics works. These were, of course, intraparty negotiations – among Democrats on the same team – so , as Bernstein notes, there was a high level of trust among the participants. But not so long ago – before the arrival of Newt Gingrich and the ascent of Fox News Channel – when both parties worked together, the level of intraparty trust was much higher.
When both parties were focused on governing, on achieving public policy outcomes, on finding practical solutions to social problems experienced by Americans, then there could be win-win negotiations between Democrats and Republicans (and not just within the Democratic Party). No longer.
Republican dysfunction
The dysfunction within the GOP undermines negotiations between the parties. Contrast the (Republican) House Freedom Caucus, which is indifferent to advancing public policy, to the (Democratic) House Progressive Caucus, which is highly attuned to getting results. John Boehner and Paul Ryan can attest to the willingness of their most radical members to sabotage deals that would have generated GOP policy victories when Republicans ruled the House; the intransigence of the grandstanders often delivered practical wins to Minority Leader Pelosi and Democrats.
Why? Conservatives on the fringes cherished the bragging rights – that they were the real conservatives, ready even to stand up to the leadership, always prepared to move further right than everyone else in the party. They had scant interest in achieving legislative victories.
In 2021, the policy nihilism of the Freedom Caucus has come to dominate House Republicans (which goes far in explaining the refusal of Kevin McCarthy, whose overweening ambition is to become speaker with a Republican takeover in 2022, to stand up for truth or principle). Republicans (such as Representative Fred Upton of Michigan) who voted – to fund projects in their districts and benefit their constituents – for Build Back Better have received threats. Not because of the substance of the bill, but because it was Joe Biden’s bill; were it Trump’s bill, Republicans would have coalesced around it. Cooperation with ones opponents can produce win-win results, as both sides achieve policy preferences. In today’s Republican Party, however, cooperating with Democrats crosses a red line, never mind the substance of the bill.
The Trump years: 2017-2021
Republicans failed to draft a party platform in 2020, apart from declaring unwavering fealty to Donald Trump -- “RESOLVED, That the Republican Party has and will continue to enthusiastically support the President’s America-first agenda.” During the first two years of the Trump presidency, before Democrats flipped the House in 2018, Republicans achieved a single legislative victory – tax cuts for rich and superrich, and one resounding defeat – failure to repeal ACA (much less to repeal and replace).
The crowning achievement of the Republican-controlled Senate was not any legislative accomplishment, but packing the courts with conservative ideologues, including (after blocking an Obama nomination for nearly a year) three Supreme Court justices vetted by the Federalist Society.
Two other themes of the Trump presidency stand out: stoking fear and hatred toward Americans (and others) whom Trump didn’t regard as in his camp and defiling democratic institutions, traditions, and principles whenever this was regarded as politically convenient. And Republicans stood with him.
Never a bridge too far
Many Republicans embraced Trump enthusiastically, especially after he won in 2016. While others resisted along the way, most of those who hesitated fell in with Trump eventually. After the November 2020 election, Trump continued to spread lies about his defeat. A Washington Post story (“Top Republicans back Trump’s efforts to challenge election results”) captures the prototypical attitude toward Trump by Republicans not taken in by his lies, but without the courage of their convictions (or, perhaps, simply lacking convictions):
“What is the downside for humoring him for this little bit of time? No one seriously thinks the results will change,” said one senior Republican official. “He went golfing this weekend. It’s not like he’s plotting how to prevent Joe Biden from taking power on Jan. 20. He’s tweeting about filing some lawsuits, those lawsuits will fail, then he’ll tweet some more about how the election was stolen, and then he’ll leave.”
Of course Trump was plotting to prevent Joe Biden from taking power and he didn’t leave the scene. He’s still lording over the Grand Old Party and all who inhabit it.
And the downside of humoring him? A violent insurrection that failed to overturn the election results. A big lie that animates the Republican base and GOP governors and legislatures across the country to suppress the vote, purge officials who deny Trump’s 2020 defeat, and change laws to enable state legislatures to overturn election results.
And the recurring constant in the GOP since Trump’s rise: Republicans have been willing – perhaps not right away, but eventually – to go along for the ride. There is, after the dust settles, never a bridge too far for most GOP professionals, Republican elected officials, or the Trump base. They’re all-in when it counts.
The alure of violence
For six years, Republicans have watched (and often cheered on) Trump’s intimations and invocations of violence. In 2021, Republicans in increasing numbers have shown their willingness to cross this bridge as well, as this report in the New York Times suggests ("Menace Enters the Republican Mainstream"):
From congressional offices to community meeting rooms, threats of violence are becoming commonplace among a significant segment of the Republican Party. Ten months after rioters attacked the United States Capitol on Jan. 6, and after four years of a president who often spoke in violent terms about his adversaries, right-wing Republicans are talking more openly and frequently about the use of force as justifiable in opposition to those who dislodged him from power.
In Washington, where decorum and civility are still given lip service, violent or threatening language still remains uncommon, if not unheard-of, among lawmakers who spend a great deal of time in the same building. But among the most fervent conservatives, who play an outsize role in primary contests and provide the party with its activist energy, the belief that the country is at a crossroads that could require armed confrontation is no longer limited to the fringe.
Violence -- threats of violence, allusions to violence, joking about violence -- has become an unmistakable theme among Republicans in the House and the Senate.
- Posing with guns has long been in vogue among politicians, especially on the right, as demonstrated by Lauren Boebert and Ted Cruz.
- Representative Paul Gosar tweets a violent anime video of himself killing a Democratic Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez.
- Actual violence (resulting in dead protesters regarded by Republicans as on the left) has drawn applause from Republicans in Congress. Matt Gaetz, along with the aforementioned Gosar and Boebert, have offered internships to Kyle Rittenhouse.
Rather than offer additional examples (not hard to find), let me dispense with an excuse or rationalization sometimes put forward by Republicans: We were joking!
We've seen this deflection from Tucker Carlson to escape responsibility for his lies.
We've seen it more recently in the trial of the neo-Nazis and other violent white supremacists in Charlottesville ("In Charlottesville trial, jurors learn to decode the secret slang of white supremacists"):
To decode the secret slang: it's not a joke. And neither is what we're seeing more frequently among Republicans.
Violence is antithetical to fidelity to the Constitution, to the rule of law, to democratic governance and the give and take of politics. One political party is endeavoring relentlessly to maintain democracy; the other party is resisting mightily.