“In speeches, ads and on social media, it is fast becoming the defining smear of the 2022 primary campaign season: RINO.” So says the Politico, which links to a Vox history of ‘RINO.’
Republicans at the turn of the 20th century hurled the charge at Teddy Roosevelt. T.R., the trust-busting leader of the progressive movement, was clearly out of step with Republican ideology. In the ’30s and ’40s, the ‘me-too’ Republicans who went along with FDR’s proposals were also challenged as RINOs. The acronym experienced a resurgence with the election of Bill Clinton (as the Gingrich era was about to bloom) and has been a prominent part of Republican Party skirmishing ever since.
In each of these cases, RINOs were faulted for straying from conservative ideology as popularized (in word, if not in deed) by the Republican Party. In contrast, “Today, in a reflection of the GOP’s murkier ideological grounding in the Trump era, it’s a term reserved almost exclusively for lack of fealty to Trump.”
Almost exclusively. Asserting or acquiescing (and absolutely not contradicting) Trump’s big lie – that he lost to Biden fair and square in 2020 in a safe and secure election – is a requirement for avoiding the RINO accusation. But for ambitious Republican pols with an eye on their leader there’s also a stampede to embrace Trumpier positions than their GOP competitors (and sometimes even Trump himself). It is often jarring to watch this pattern play out.
The Republicans in Congress and on cable TV who have sided with Putin are, in David Jolly’s words (spoken last month after the Russian invasion), “cartoon politicians—people who are unqualified to be there, but for their ability to extract outrage from a body politic.”
Senators Tom Cotton, Ted Cruz, and Josh Hawley (with their degrees, respectively, from Harvard and Harvard Law, Princeton and Harvard Law, and Stanford and Yale Law) are not dumb, though in questioning Ketanji Brown Jackson last week, they appeared to be practicing cartoon politics.
Or perhaps not. While it is tempting to say of the three presidential wannabes acting out at a Senate Judiciary hearing to consider a nominee for the Supreme Court that – as Jolly suggested of the Republicans cheering on Putin – they have failed to understand “the gravity of the situation.” Instead, they shouted, interrupted, insulted, demeaned, twisted facts and context, fabricated outright, blew dog whistles, and sounded QAnon themes.
All of this was consistent with extracting outrage from the Republican base. But, while practicing cartoon senatorial civility, cartoon logic, cartoon advice and consent, they were by all intents and purposes practicing savvy intraparty politics. This was political theater, which was appropriate to the moment and beneficial to the republic – so say a couple of political scientists.
Matthew Glassman, in a post titled, "What is the point of confirmation hearings?" insists that "stupid political theater is good":
Even if you accept everything I’ve written in this post as the reality of the situation, you might not think any of this is normatively desirable.
I apologize if I’ve given you that impression. While I’ve mostly written here from a descriptive realist point of view, I also happen to be a fan of political theater. People use that term derisively, but it absolutely has it’s benefits.
Glassman approvingly quotes Jonathan Bernstein (from a piece titled, “Confirmation Hearings Are Political Theater and That’s OK”):
This kind of theater can convey some substantive material to the public. Hearings construct a public record to supplement the private deliberations that start as soon as a Supreme Court vacancy is announced. Hearings can also tell us lots of things about what politicians and political parties think is important. They can shine public light on previously obscure topics. Of course, what politicians and parties care about may seem foolish or worse, but that’s not the fault of the hearing process.
Fair enough. Let’s accept this view. The trio of Republicans are each trying to shape a narrative, bolster their own status, and appeal to the Republican base. That’s politics: the stuff of American democracy.
We can, as citizens and voters, make of this theatrical posturing what we will. Whether “foolish or worse,” it certainly tells us much about what these politicians and the Republican Party think is important.