Last week, Senator Tim Scott of South Carolina announced on “Fox and Friends” that he was forming an exploratory committee for the 2024 presidential election.
“I have found that people are starving for hope,” he said. “They’re starving for an optimistic, positive message that is anchored in conservative values.”
There wasn’t a lot of fanfare around the announcement, in part because Scott immediately fumbled the ball with a disastrously awkward answer on abortion, in which he refused to say whether he would support Senator Lindsey Graham’s proposed 15-week federal abortion ban. There’s also the simple fact that Donald Trump is almost certainly going to win the Republican nomination for president for a third time. Scott’s campaign, in other words, is doomed from the start.
But just because it appears to be futile doesn’t mean it’s not interesting. Scott was appointed to the Senate in 2012 to fill the seat vacated by Senator Jim DeMint, who left to serve as president of the Heritage Foundation. Scott won a full term in 2016, becoming the first Black American elected to the Senate from the South since Reconstruction. He’s no moderate — he is, like his predecessor, a bona fide South Carolina reactionary — but he tempers his hard right politics with the cheerful affect of a happy warrior.
Scott is obviously not the first Black person to vie for the Republican presidential nomination. That distinction goes to Frederick Douglass, who received one vote at the 1888 Republican convention. (The first Black person to receive any votes for national office at a major party’s nominating convention was Senator Blanche Bruce of Mississippi, who received eight votes for vice president at the 1880 convention in Chicago.) There is a short list of more recent contenders as well. Alan Keyes ran for the Republican nomination in 1996, 2000 and 2008; Herman Cain ran and withdrew in 2011; and Ben Carson ran in 2016.
Tim Scott, however, would be the first Black Republican officeholder to run for the party’s presidential nomination, should he move past the exploratory phase. There’s no one else, as far as I can tell.
Which makes sense. Beginning in the 1890s, Black Americans were systematically excluded from participation in two-party politics. Even the Black communities in the booming cities of the North lacked meaningful political clout. It was not until World War I and the beginning of the Great Migration that we saw a real rejuvenation of Black participation in electoral politics, because of the absence of Jim Crow voting restrictions in northern cities and the presence of political machines that were nothing if not opportunistic.
Even then, there were few Black people elected to national office, with a total of eight serving between 1914 and 1965. And with the exception of Oscar Stanton De Priest — elected from Illinois’ First District, the South Side of Chicago, in 1928 — they were Democrats. And that fact speaks to how the collapse of the Republican Party in the South and the strength of Democratic machines in the urban North changed the partisan political calculus for Black Americans, setting the stage for the lasting affiliation with the Democratic Party that began to take shape under Franklin Roosevelt and the New Deal.
(Still, there was a lasting affiliation among some Black voters with Republicans through the 1960s, as demonstrated by Richard Nixon’s attempt to capture a larger share of the Black vote in the 1960 presidential election, Jackie Robinson’s ill-fated presence at the 1964 Republican convention and the election of Senator Edward Brooke of Massachusetts in 1966.)
By the time there were Black lawmakers with the presence and national platform to run for president, most Black voters were Democrats and the Republican Party had already begun its ideological migration to the white South and the Sunbelt. It’s no accident that the first Black American to run a national campaign for the Democratic nomination for president was Representative Shirley Chisholm of New York, and that the two most successful Black candidates for the Democratic nomination, Jesse Jackson and Barack Obama, came out of Chicago.
It has essentially taken a century for someone like Tim Scott to emerge. And his political position reflects the conditions set by the structure of Black two-party politics in the 20th century. A modern-day Republican, Scott has few Black supporters and even fewer ties to the institutions of contemporary Black politics.
Tim Scott, whatever you think of his political views, would be a sui generis figure. Or, if you prefer, an odd man out.
What I Wrote
My Tuesday column took another stab at the Thomas-Crow affair, this time from the perspective of elite impunity and legal double standards.
The idea that Thomas will face any penalty, much less an official investigation by the Supreme Court, is obviously wish-casting. The politics of the court, the lack of any internal check on the court’s members and the general unwillingness of Congress to challenge the court’s power — or even scrutinize its affairs — mean Thomas can act with relative impunity. And even if he couldn’t, even if there were meaningful and politically feasible consequences for misconduct among members of the Supreme Court — impeachment is practically a dead letter — there’s the fact that the law is simply more forgiving of the rich and the powerful.
My Friday column built off the idea of “one rule for some, another rule for others” with a look at how Republicans are pursuing a vision of “intrusive government” aimed at the most vulnerable members of our society.
With or without Trump in control, the Republican Party has a clear, well-articulated agenda. It just falls outside the usual categories. It’s not that today’s Republicans have a vision for “big” government or “small” government; it’s that Republicans have a vision for intrusive government, aimed at the most vulnerable people in our society.
Also, I was on “All In With Chris Hayes” on Thursday discussing gun violence and right-wing paranoia.
Now Reading
Gabriel Rosenberg and Jan Dutkiewicz on the meat industry for Vox.
Matthew Sitman on the Jan. 6 report for Dissent magazine.
Ilyse Hogue on the fight for abortion rights after Dobbs for Democracy.
Julie Livingston and Andrew Ross on automobile debt for n+1 magazine.
Madison Mainwaring on ballet for The New Republic.
Photo of the Week
This is a fun truck done in the style of a character from the movie “Cars.” I saw it while driving through South Carolina over Christmas break. I took the photo on Kodak Gold film in medium format.
Now Eating: Spinach, Tofu and Sesame Stir-Fry
As always, the key to using tofu is to prep it beforehand by pressing as much water out of it as possible. I use a tofu press, but wrapping a block of tofu in a towel and placing a few heavy books on it works just as well. Also, I would go heavy on the garlic and ginger, but that’s my preference. A little more sesame oil would not hurt, either. Serve with steamed rice, white or brown, your choice. Recipe from New York Times Cooking.
Ingredients
1 tablespoon canola oil
½ pound tofu, cut in small dice
1 large garlic clove, minced
1 teaspoon grated or minced fresh ginger
¼ teaspoon red chili flakes
Soy sauce to taste
16-ounce bag baby spinach, rinsed
2 tablespoons toasted sesame seeds
1 teaspoon sesame oil
Directions
Heat the canola oil over medium-high heat in a large nonstick skillet or wok, and add the tofu. Stir-fry until the tofu is lightly colored, three to five minutes, and add the garlic, ginger and chili flakes. Cook, stirring, until fragrant, about one minute, and add soy sauce to taste. Add the spinach and stir-fry until the spinach wilts, about one minute. Stir in the sesame seeds, and add more soy sauce to taste. Remove from the heat.
Using tongs, transfer the spinach and tofu mixture to a serving bowl, leaving the liquid behind in the pan or wok. Drizzle with the sesame oil, and add more soy sauce as desired.
Source: Elections - nytimes.com
