President Donald Trump on the November 2020 election:
● “The only way we’re gonna lose this election is if the election is rigged. Remember that. The only way we’re gonna lose this election. So we have to be very careful.”
● “So this is a disaster waiting to happen. The only hope we have, really, other than going through a long unbelievable litigation at the end after it’s over, is we’re gonna win. We’re not going to lose this except if they cheat. That’s the way I look at it.
We can’t let ’em cheat. We can’t let ’em. . . .Our country is at stake . . . Our country is at stake, because these people will destroy our country. We can’t let this happen. And this is a scam. They know it, the media knows it, but the media doesn’t wanna cover it. They know exactly what’s going to happen and so do I. But the Democrats know better than all of us what’s gonna happen.”
[Q: Win, lose, or draw in this election, will you commit here today for a peaceful transferal of power after the election?]
We wanna have — get rid of the ballots and you’ll have a very trans — you’ll have a very peaceful — There won’t be a transfer, frankly. There’ll be a continuation. The ballots out of control. You know it. And you know who knows it better than anybody else? The Democrats know it better than anybody else.”
The relentless campaign to deny the integrity of the upcoming election is part of a larger Republican plan, set out in plain sight, to throw the election to Donald Trump.
In How Democracies Die, Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt describe the informal rules or norms that serve as the guardrails of our democracy, forestalling a democratic breakdown – and a Republican Party more than willing to plow through those guardrails to gain political advantage. As the authors explain, “political leaders, and especially political parties,” play the critical roles in preserving democracy. The GOP has shunned this role.
Nearly two decades after the ascendency of Newt Gingrich, after Bush v. Gore, and half a dozen years after publication of Mann and Ornstein’s It’s Even Worse Than It Looks, no political observer in 2018 (when How Democracies Die was published) could have been surprised by the indictment of the pre-Trump GOP, and not simply of the party since Trump’s takeover.
The book, which I read in early 2019, is a warning to small-d democrats. I regarded the warning as less urgent, and the threat as less imminent, on that first reading than I do now. I recognized then that the Republican Party continued to trash democratic norms and that Trump had pushed the GOP even further off the rails, but I believed that our institutions would protect us. We were safe from the worst. We would vote Trump out of office, just as we had rejected the Republican majority in the House in November 2018.
But the Republican Party has become increasingly extreme with each year of the Trump presidency. So, the passages that I regarded as perceptive observations have become alarming portents. As our country loses prestige and influence abroad, and as the chaos at home betrays our image as the world’s greatest democracy, our democratic institutions appear less robust than they did even a short time ago.
Shockingly, today the United States of America doesn’t seem a world away from Venezuela, Turkey, or Hungary (to cite a few of the countries discussed in How Democracies Die where people still cast ballots, but authoritarians rule). The threat of a free and fair election — offering a judgment on Donald Trump’s presidency — being subverted so Trump can stay in office regardless of the will of American voters is right upon us, here and now in 2020.
Recognition of this impending threat has come in stages.
On August 19, election-law expert Richard Hasen wrote about the broad Republican strategy:
The threat to the 2020 election’s legitimacy finally broke through into everyday conversation last week. People who pay little attention to politics started talking about whether President Trump was looking to mess with the United States Postal Service to slow down the receipt of mail-in ballots.
After reports from NPR and the Washington Post (on August 22 and 23, respectively) that upwards of 500,000 mail-in ballots had been disqualified in the Wisconsin primary jolted me, on August 24 I posted, “Democrats desperately need a Plan B.” If a half million votes could be lost in a single primary, maximal Republican interference in multiple states in a general election could be much more consequential. The GOP is preparing to pull out all the stops to prevent votes from being counted (the successful strategy in Florida in 2000), so Trump doesn’t face a reckoning.
By September 10, when Ronald Brownstein wrote the essay, “Democrats Won’t Cede the Streets This Time,” the previously fantastical idea (an authoritarian leader subverting a free and fair election in the U.S.A.) was widely anticipated. Not only did Democrats expect Trump to try to steal the election, they expected Republicans to employ shock troops (as they had in the well-orchestrated Brooks Brothers’ riot of 2000) to intimidate officials responsible for tabulating votes.
Hasen’s assessment now is that the Republican Party’s plan — to muck up the works and then, when bedlam breaks out, disregard the voters and declare Trump the winner — is “a five-alarm fire” that threatens democratic rule:
With less than six weeks to go before Election Day, and with over 250 COVID-related election lawsuits filed across 45 states, the litigation strategy of the Trump campaign and its allies has become clear: try to block the expansion of mail-in balloting whenever possible and, in a few key states, create enough chaos in the system and legal and political uncertainty in the results that the Supreme Court, Congress, or Republican legislatures can throw the election to Trump if the outcome is at all close or in doubt. It’s a Hail Mary, but in a close enough election, we cannot count the possibility out. I’ve never been more worried about American democracy than I am right now.
I initially shrugged off Trump’s attacks on the credibility of the election because he had done the same thing in 2016 — even after winning (when he claimed that 3 to 5 million illegal votes had been cast, unfairly depriving him of a popular vote victory). I regarded the continuing crusade as just blather and bluster. (And it would be were it not for the complicity of the Republican Party and its leadership.)
I shrugged off Trump’s tweets about postponing the November 3 election, which I took as evidence of his insecurity (after consistently trailing Joe Biden in public polling for more than a year) and his ignorance (of the structure of our governing institutions). Moving the date of the election was not a viable possibility — and so not the way to steal an election.
I never regarded as likely the suggestion that Trump would lose the election, but refuse to budge from the White House. That’s not where the threat lies, as Barton Gellman explains:
A lot of people, including Joe Biden, the Democratic Party nominee, have misconceived the nature of the threat. They frame it as a concern, unthinkable for presidents past, that Trump might refuse to vacate the Oval Office if he loses. They generally conclude, as Biden has, that in that event the proper authorities “will escort him from the White House with great dispatch.”
The worst case, however, is not that Trump rejects the election outcome. The worst case is that he uses his power to prevent a decisive outcome against him. If Trump sheds all restraint, and if his Republican allies play the parts he assigns them, he could obstruct the emergence of a legally unambiguous victory for Biden in the Electoral College and then in Congress. He could prevent the formation of consensus about whether there is any outcome at all. He could seize on that uncertainty to hold on to power.
Trump’s state and national legal teams are already laying the groundwork for postelection maneuvers that would circumvent the results of the vote count in battleground states. Ambiguities in the Constitution and logic bombs in the Electoral Count Act make it possible to extend the dispute all the way to Inauguration Day, which would bring the nation to a precipice. The Twentieth Amendment is crystal clear that the president’s term in office “shall end” at noon on January 20, but two men could show up to be sworn in. One of them would arrive with all the tools and power of the presidency already in hand.
The linchpin: “if his Republican allies play the parts he assigns them.” Trump is Trump. He sends signals. It is his Republican allies — in Congress, on Fox News Channel, in a handful of legislatures and statehouses across the country, and at the Supreme Court — that could pull off the heist.
The Republican Party has moved unwaveringly toward a fulsome embrace of Trump’s authoritarian impulses. At every fork in the road — whether to enable Trump’s authoritarian incursions or to take a principled stand to defend democratic institutions — Republicans in the House and the Senate have chosen the former.
Consider 2020; that is, just the past nine months:
Apart from Mitt Romney (who acknowledges that he has no followers in today’s GOP), Republicans in both the House and the Senate were unanimous in refusing to hold Donald Trump accountable for his shakedown of Ukraine’s President Zelensky. This was a choice. The rejection of principle, in favor of raw political power, with the recent Supreme Court vacancy was a choice. The loudest voices among Washington Republicans have reinforced Trump’s campaign to delegitimize the election; other Republicans remain silent (implicitly standing behind Trump). Everyone — the vocal and the mute — has made a choice. Finally, the namby-pamby statements after Trump’s rejection of the principle of a peaceful transition represent a choice. (Not that a more definitive rejection from today’s Republicans, while still weeks away from the election, would count for much.)
The Republican Party has rejected Congressional oversight, Constitutional checks and balances, the rule of law, the sanctity of the vote and of democratic elections, conservative principles and policy commitments, and much else where this president is concerned. The party has collectively made choice after choice to go all-in with Trump wherever he has led.
In my August 24 post, I raised this question:
But — stop and consider for just a moment all that we’ve witnessed over the past three and a half years — are there any grounds to believe that, say, Mitch McConnell would object to a transparent theft of the election if he thought that he could get away with it?
Consider all of Trump’s enablers. Isn’t the same cynical calculation in play for each of them? If Fox News Channel and the rest of the conservative media universe were on board, nearly half the country would be convinced, if Trump claimed a victory, that Trump had won (or that McConnell had held his majority).
I would not have thought to write those paragraphs at the beginning of the year, much less in early 2019, after first reading How Democracies Die. Even understanding that the GOP was an insurgent outlier, which employed voter suppression as a primary electoral strategy, I would have regarded this contingency as a bridge too far. But here we are.
I’ve written more than once about the go-to play in the Republican Party’s game plan, which Steve Bannon described as “to flood the zone with shit.” Republicans in Washington and state capitals, on FNC and talk radio, in social media and on the streets are always prepared to flood the zone with shit. Lies, conspiracy theories, denials, misdirection, and ceaseless vilification: that’s the route to creating chaos. Republicans are amply prepared to follow their authoritarian leader if, when push to comes to shove, they think they can get away with it.
Near the beginning of Donald Trump’s term, Levitsky and Ziblatt wrote:
We know that extremist demagogues emerge from time to time in all societies, even in healthy democracies. The United States has had its share . . . . An essential test for democracies is not whether such figures emerge but whether political leaders, and especially political parties, work to prevent them from gaining power in the first place—by keeping them off mainstream party tickets, refusing to endorse or align with them, and when necessary, making common cause with rivals in support of democratic candidates. Isolating popular extremists requires political courage. But when fear, opportunism, or miscalculation leads established parties to bring extremists into the mainstream, democracy is imperiled.
Once a would-be authoritarian makes it to power, democracies face a second critical test: Will the autocratic leader subvert democratic institutions or be constrained by them? Institutions alone are not enough to rein in elected autocrats. Constitutions must be defended—by political parties and organized citizens, but also by democratic norms. Without robust norms, constitutional checks and balances do not serve as the bulwarks of democracy we imagine them to be. Institutions become political weapons, wielded forcefully by those who control them against those who do not. This is how elected autocrats subvert democracy—packing and “weaponizing” the courts and other neutral agencies, buying off the media and the private sector (or bullying them into silence), and renewing the rules of politics to tilt the playing field against opponents. The tragic paradox of the electoral route to authoritarianism is that democracy’s assassins use the very institutions of democracy—gradually, subtly, and even legally—to kill it.
Thus far, choice by choice, the Republican Party has failed both critical tests.
The authoritarian threat — as the country’s November election approaches — is nearer, more imminent than I had imagined just months ago. Killing democratic rule is not just an exotic foreign affair, it’s something that could happen here. The contemporary Republican Party has a plan for stealing the 2020 American election — if only a viable opportunity presents itself. It is up to democrats (and Democrats) to make sure that tabulated ballots, not chaos and chicanery triumph.
(Image: The Hill.)