The votes in the House and
soon in the Senate about impeaching Trump are mostly seen as foregone
conclusions. It was clear that he would be impeached on both articles in the
House, and that two-thirds of Senators will not vote to convict. Hidden in
these outcomes are many individual dramas for the few members of Congress who
position themselves near the middle, who represent districts where elections
are in doubt. Their votes represent more than partisan loyalty – they display
courage or its absence.
Democrat Elissa Slotkin
represents a House district in Michigan that had long been in Republican hands
and was won by Trump in 2016 by 7 points. She beat the incumbent in 2018,
winning just 50.6% of the vote. Like all the Democratic House members who won in districts that had
gone for Trump, she worried about
how her vote would affect her chances of re-election. She read our founding
documents at the National Archives and spent a weekend at her family farm
reading the hearing transcripts. As she appeared at a town hall meeting in her
district last week, she was jeered by Trump supporters before she said a word.
When she announced that she would vote for impeachment, she got a standing
ovation and shouted insults.
She explained herself in an op-ed in
the Detroit Free Press: “I have
done what I was trained to do as a CIA officer who worked for both Republicans
and Democrats: I took a step back, looked at the full body of available
information, and tried to make an objective decision on my vote.” She also
faced the consequences squarely: “I’ve been told more times that I can count
that the vote I’ll be casting this week will mark the end of my short political
career. That may be. . . . There are some decisions in life that have to be
made based on what you know in your bones is right. And this is one of those times.”
Of the 31 House Democrats who
won in districts that Trump carried in 2016, 29 voted to impeach him. Collin
Peterson of Minnesota, from a district that Trump won by 31 points, voted
against. And then there’s Jeff
Van Drew, first-term House member
from New Jersey, who won in a district that has flipped back and forth between
parties, and was won by Trump by 5 points. His 2018 victory was aided by
considerable financing from the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee. In
November, he said in a teleconference that he was against impeachment, but vowed to remain a Democrat, which he had been his whole life: “I am absolutely
not changing.” Then he saw a poll of Democratic primary voters, in which 70% said they would be less likely to vote
for him if he opposed impeachment. Meanwhile, he was meeting with White House
Republicans, who promised him Trump’s support. So he voted against impeachment
and became a Republican. The next day, Trump asked his supporters to donate to Van Drew’s
campaign. Van Drew’s Congressional staff resigned en masse. He told Trump in a televised Oval Office meeting, “You have my undying support.”
Somewhere in the middle
between political courage and its absence lies the case of Jared Golden of Maine, whose successful 2018 campaign to unseat a
Republican incumbent I supported. His district went for Trump by 10 points in
2016, and Golden won only because the new Maine system of ranked-choice voting
gave him enough second-place votes to overcome his rival’s lead. His
re-election certainly qualifies as endangered.
Golden took a unique approach
to impeachment, voting for the first article on abuse of power, but against the
second on obstruction of Congress. He said that
Trump’s obstruction of Congress “has not yet, in my view, reached the threshold
of 'high crime or misdemeanor' that the Constitution demands.” Golden wrote a
long statement explaining his actions, arguing that House Democrats had not yet
tried hard enough to get the courts to force Trump’s aides to testify.
I cannot judge Golden’s
motives. He said, “I
voted my heart without fear about politics at all.” Perhaps his heart feared
the end of his political career.
But it is worth considering
how Trump has defied Congress since he was elected. When Congress refused to
appropriate as much money as he wanted to build his Wall, Trump decided to
spend it anyway by declaring a “national emergency”. According to the Constitution, only Congress has the authority to
decide how to spend taxpayer funds. Federal courts then blocked Trump’s use of
other funds. Trump’s lawyers argued that no entity has the authority to challenge in court Trump’s extension of his
powers. In July, the Supreme Court sided with Trump and allowed spending for
the Wall to proceed.
Trump’s defiance of
Congressional oversight began long before the impeachment crisis. In February,
the administration refused to send Congress a legally required report about the
murder of Jamal Khashoggi by Saudi operatives. A Trump official said, “The President maintains his discretion to decline to act on
congressional committee requests when appropriate.” In April, he told a former
personnel security official not to appear
before the House Oversight Committee, which was investigating White House
security clearance practices. That month, the Justice Department defied a
bipartisan subpoena from the Oversight Committee investigating the addition of
a citizenship question to the 2020 Census.
Robert Mueller found many instances of Trump’s obstruction of justice in the Russia investigation. Mueller declined to
conclude that Trump had committed a crime, only because of a Justice Department
memo that claims temporary immunity of a sitting president from prosecution. He
clearly pointed toward impeachment as a remedy, and the House impeachment
committees considered putting those actions into an article of impeachment.
They decided not to, in order to simplify the process.
There are many other
examples. Jared Golden’s idea that the House should wait and pursue their
requests through the courts ignores the unprecedented nature of Trump’s refusal
to do anything that the Democratic House requests or demands. It makes no sense
to treat each instance of obstruction as a separate judicial case, which makes
it impossible for Congress to do its job. Jeffrey Toobin of the New Yorker wrote, “Trump will create a new constitutional
norm—in which the executive can defy the legislature without consequence.”
When John Kennedy wrote (or
just put his name on?) Profiles in Courage, he quoted a column from
Walter Lippmann, who had despaired of any courage among elected politicians:
“They advance politically only as they placate, appease, bribe, seduce,
bamboozle, or otherwise manage to manipulate the demanding and threatening
elements in their constituencies. The decisive consideration is not whether the
proposition is good but whether it is popular.” Yet historian Jon Meacham and
political science PhD candidate Michael E. Shepherd write that many Congresspeople who took unpopular votes survived.
The great majority of young
House Democrats who face difficult re-election campaigns in Trump districts
acted courageously. Elissa Slotkin explained what courage looks like: “Look, I want to get reelected. The greatest honor
of my life is to represent this district. But if I’m not, at least I can look
at myself in the mirror when I leave office.”
Steve Hochstadt
Jacksonville IL
December 24, 2019
Following party line is somehow courageous? I find the herd mentality is responsible for the polarization of our country.
ReplyDeleteDoug Birdsell