Coups D’Etat and Attempted Coups D’Etat

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      The Jan. 6 attack was a crisis. So why wasn’t it more of a scandal?

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      The political dog that didn’t bark.Protesters storming the Senate side of the U.S. Capitol after a rally where President Trump spoke on Jan. 6 last year.Jason Andrew for The New York TimesNever underestimate the power of a political scandal. I don’t mean in the gossipy, prurient, sense of the term, like a splashy story about celebrity cheating on a spouse. Rather, I’m talking about an event that provokes such outrage that it can unite previously divided populations and politicians in condemnation. That kind of scandal can change history, opening up paths to political change that may have seemed unimaginable up to that point.In Chile in 2019, for instance, the president’s decision to call out the army to quell mass protests provoked national fury, uniting the country behind the demonstrators’ demand for a new Constitution. In Guatemala in 2015, a corruption scandal involving President Otto Pérez Molina provoked huge demonstrations, eventually causing his resignation. And in Argentina and Colombia, scandalous incidents of police violence united public opinion, making police reform programs that once seemed politically impossible a reality, Yanilda González, a Harvard political scientist, found.It seemed, at first, as if the Jan. 6, 2021 attack on the U.S. Capitol would be a similar moment. The attack had little precedent in U.S. history. It was covered live by the news media, beaming images of the deadly violence to the televisions and phones of Americans across the country. The public reacted with shock and anger. A CBS News poll conducted the week after the attack found that 87 percent of Americans disapproved of what had happened. Within days, Congress had impeached President Donald Trump on charges of inciting an insurrection.But then the outrage seemed to lose momentum, as if the events of Jan. 6 got halfway to being a publicly galvanizing scandal and then became stuck.Trump was acquitted by the Senate, after all but seven Republicans voted in his favor. And despite sustained media attention and a public congressional investigation that has continued to generate headlines, the attacks have not — at least so far — provoked the kind of mass fervor that leads to real political change. The Republican Party has largely rallied around Trump. His wing of the party is still ascendant.That relatively muted response stands in sharp contrast to the reaction from prominent Republicans this week after the F.B.I. searched Trump’s Florida home, apparently in order to locate classified documents that the former president may have stored there. In an interview on Fox News, Rick Scott, a Republican Florida senator, compared the F.B.I. action to the activities of Nazi Germany and Latin American dictatorships. Other Republican officials threatened retaliatory investigations of Democrats in the future if they retake control of Congress.Some Republican leaders have also criticized the Jan. 6 attacks. Mitch McConnell, the leader of the Senate Republicans, said that the riot “was a violent insurrection for the purpose of trying to prevent the peaceful transfer of power after a legitimately certified election.” But that has not translated into public mobilization.“It reminds me of the current discussion in U.S. media and among economists about whether we’re currently in a recession,” González told me via email. As with a recession, she said, some of the elements that experts usually look for are present, such as sustained media coverage of the event, and public disapproval of what occurred. But the outcomes that usually follow such elements are bafflingly absent, she told me. “Specifically, it doesn’t seem like there’s much in the way of mass or political mobilization around the issue to hold people accountable or prevent it from happening again.”It’s always difficult to figure out why something didn’t happen. But the question of this scandal-that-wasn’t seemed important enough to give it a try. So I started calling experts.One word: polarizationSteven Levitsky, a Harvard political scientist who studies democratization and democratic decline around the world, and Lilliana Mason, a Johns Hopkins political scientist who studies American political divisions and political violence, both had the same answer: polarization.Key Revelations From the Jan. 6 HearingsCard 1 of 9Key Revelations From the Jan. 6 HearingsMaking a case against Trump. More

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      Chad’s Military Junta and Rebels Sign a Deal, but a Main Player Is Missing

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      The accord paves the way for national reconciliation talks and democratic elections. However, it was snubbed by the main rebel group responsible for the death of Chad’s previous leader.DAKAR, Senegal — Chad’s military government and more than 40 rebel groups signed a cease-fire agreement on Monday in Qatar, paving the way for reconciliation talks later this month as the Central African nation seeks a way out of a troubled political transition.But the signing of the agreement, after five months of negotiations, was overshadowed by the absence of Chad’s most powerful armed group, which refused to to join in the accord, making any prospects for a return to stability all the more uncertain.After Chad’s longtime autocratic ruler, Idriss Déby, died while fighting against rebels in April last year, his son Gen. Mahamat Idriss Déby seized power and vowed to lead the country through an 18-month transition period.With less than two months left in that transition period, Mr. Déby’s military government and rebel groups have been negotiating in Doha, Qatar, what comes next. On Monday after nearly five months of talks, they agreed to hold national reconciliation talks later this month in Chad’s capital, N’Djamena, which would then pave the way to democratic elections.But the absence among the signatories of one of Chad’s main rebel groups, the Front for Change and Concord in Chad (F.A.C.T., by its French acronym), threw the outcome of the coming talks into question. It was while visiting troops fighting against the F.A.C.T. that Mr. Déby was killed last year, according to the Chadian military authorities.On Sunday, the group’s spokesman said the accord didn’t respect key requests such as the immediate release of prisoners and parity between the government and opposition groups during the coming reconciliation talks.Thus the agreement may bring some temporary stability, but any lasting peace is unlikely, said Remadji Hoinathy, a Chadian political analyst based in N’Djamena.Chadian soldiers parading through N’Djamena after battling rebel forces last May.Djimet Wiche/Agence France-Presse — Getty Images“Some protagonists have long understood that the only way to have a frank discussion in Chad is to go through armed rebellion,” said Mr. Hoinathy, an analyst with the Institute for Security Studies.Even as a broad mix of political parties, rebel groups and the military government are set to convene in N’Djamena this month, Mr. Hoinathy said, “Those who didn’t sign the accord may as well invite themselves to the conversation — but through weapons.”Mamadou Djimtebaye, a Chadian political journalist, said that scenario could have been true years ago, but is not anymore. “That’s an old framework — people won’t let it happen,” he said. “They want elections, and both the government and F.A.C.T. have understood that.”Issa Ahmat, the spokesman for F.A.C.T., said any resolutions from the reconciliation talks would likely be biased in favor of the government. But he said that violence wasn’t on the table. “We haven’t closed the door to dialogue,” Mr. Ahmat said in a telephone interview.The presence of myriad groups in Doha — more than 50, with nearly 10 of them rejecting the accord — highlighted the key role they have played in Chad since the country’s independence from France in 1960. The country’s history has been characterized by military dictatorship and repeated attempts to seize power by such groups, often operating from neighboring Libya or Sudan.Besides the cease-fire, the agreement signed on Monday includes a disarmament program; amnesty and the safe return of rebels outside Chad; the end of recruitment by rebel groups; and the release of prisoners on both sides.The Union of Resistance Forces, which tried to oust the elder Mr. Déby in 2019 by sending a column of fighters in 50 pickup trucks from Libya — only to be beaten back by French airstrikes — signed the agreement. But another powerful group, the Military Command Council for the Salvation of the Republic, rejected the pledge.Now, as the transition period is likely to exceed its 18-month term, Chadians have been increasingly frustrated with the junta.In May, supporters of the country’s main political opposition group, Wakit Tama, were arrested following protests against the military government. They also denounced France’s presence in the country and its support for the military leaders, echoing a rising anti-French sentiment in former French colonies.France has long considered Chad, a nation of 17 million, a strategic partner in the Sahel region. France’s counterterrorism operation, Operation Barkhane, has been headquartered in N’Djamena since its launch in 2014.But critics have pointed to a double standard by France. In Mali, it has been unflinching with military leaders who seized power in a coup last year, yet it has been more accommodating toward Chad’s government, even though Mr. Déby’s takeover following his father’s death was also unconstitutional.Human rights organizations have also criticized Mr. Déby for a broad crackdown on peaceful protests and the arrests of hundreds of members and supporters of the opposition.“Chad’s significant military commitments in the fight against terror have meant that the international community has felt comfortable to turn a blind eye to the serious human rights violations in country,” Human Right Watch’s director for Central Africa, Lewis Mudge, wrote in April.Chad’s troubled history has been marked by several peace agreements similar to those signed on Monday, which Mr. Hoinathy said had often brought limited results.Jérôme Tubiana, an independent expert on Chad, said “Key groups are missing, but the government’s plan may not have been to have all those groups as signatories.” He continued, “Instead, it may have tried to avoid negotiations between the government on one side, and all the groups together on the other.”“If the government had a divide-and-rule strategy, then it won.” More

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      Las democracias no siempre se comportan de manera democrática

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      Cuando los líderes políticos se enfrentan a una crisis constitucional, como la del 6 de enero en EE. UU., el proceso de decidir colectivamente cómo responder puede ser desordenado, arbitrario y, a veces, cambiar la naturaleza del propio sistema.Cuando buscamos casos similares en el mundo al momento del año pasado en el que el entonces vicepresidente Mike Pence se negó a ceder ante la presión del presidente Donald Trump para ayudarlo a revertir su derrota electoral, algo queda claro casi de inmediato.Este tipo de crisis, en las que el destino de la democracia queda en manos de un puñado de funcionarios, rara vez se resuelven únicamente sobre la base de principios legales o constitucionales, aunque luego sean citados como justificación.En su lugar, por lo general la resolución está determinada por las élites políticas que logran formar rápidamente una masa crítica a favor de un resultado. Y esos funcionarios pueden seguir cualquier motivación —principios, antipatía partidista, interés propio— que los movilice.En conjunto, la historia de las crisis constitucionales modernas destaca algunas duras verdades sobre la democracia. Las normas supuestamente fundamentales, como elecciones libres o el Estado de derecho, aunque se presenten como si estuvieran cimentadas de manera irreversible en las bases de la nación, en realidad solo son tan sólidas como el compromiso de quienes estén en el poder. Y si bien una crisis puede ser una oportunidad para que los líderes refuercen las normas democráticas, también puede ser una oportunidad para revisarlas o revocarlas por completo.Por ejemplo, en medio de las elecciones de Yugoslavia de 2000, la oposición declaró que había obtenido suficientes votos para destronar al presidente Slobodan Milosevic, cuyo gobierno aseguró falsamente que la oposición se había quedado corta.Ambas partes apelaron a los principios constitucionales, los procedimientos legales y, con furiosas protestas, a la voluntad del pueblo. Al final, una masa crítica de funcionarios del gobierno y de la policía, incluidos algunos en puestos necesarios para certificar el resultado, señalaron que, por razones que variaban de persona a persona, tratarían a Milosevic como el perdedor de las elecciones. Posteriormente, el nuevo gobierno lo extraditó para enfrentar cargos por crímenes de guerra en La Haya, en los Países Bajos.Slobodan Milosevic, expresidente de Yugoslavia, aplaudiendo durante una ceremonia en la academia militar de Belgrado, en 2000. Milosevic fue declarado perdedor de unas disputadas elecciones y posteriormente extraditado para ser acusado de crímenes de guerra en La Haya.Agence France-PresseLos estadounidenses parecieran tener más cosas en común con Perú. Allí, en 1992, el entonces presidente Alberto Fujimori disolvió el Congreso controlado por la oposición, que estaba haciendo gestiones para destituirlo. Los legisladores de todo el espectro votaron rápidamente para remplazar a Fujimori con su propio vicepresidente, quien se había opuesto al abuso de poder presidencial.Ambos bandos aseveraron estar defendiendo la democracia de la amenaza que representaba el otro. Ambos apelaron a las fuerzas militares de Perú, que tradicionalmente había desempeñado un rol de árbitro final, de forma casi similar al de una corte suprema. El pueblo, profundamente polarizado, se dividió. Los militares también se dividieron en dos bandos.En el momento más crítico, una cantidad suficiente de élites políticas y militares indicó su apoyo a Fujimori y logró que prevaleciera. Se juntaron de manera informal, cada uno reaccionando a los eventos de manera individual. Muchos apelaron a diferentes fines, como la agenda económica de Fujimori, la sensación de estabilidad o la posibilidad de que su partido prevaleciera bajo el nuevo orden.Perú cayó en un cuasi-autoritarismo, con derechos políticos restringidos y elecciones celebradas, pero bajo términos que favorecían a Fujimori, hasta que fue destituido de su cargo en 2000 por acusaciones de corrupción. El año pasado, su hija se postuló para la presidencia como una populista de derecha y perdió por menos de 50.000 votos.La América Latina moderna ha enfrentado repetidamente este tipo de crisis. Esto, según muchos académicos, no se debe tanto a rasgos culturales compartidos, sino más a una historia de intromisión de Guerra Fría que debilitó las normas democráticas. También surge de sistemas presidenciales de estilo estadounidense y de la profunda polarización social que allana el camino para el combate político extremo.Las democracias presidenciales, al dividir el poder entre ramas en competencia, crean más oportunidades para que cargos rivales se enfrenten, incluso hasta el punto de usurparse unos a otros los poderes. Dichos sistemas también enturbian las preguntas sobre quién está al mando, lo que obliga a sus ramas o poderes a resolver disputas de manera informal, sobre la marcha y, en ocasiones, por la fuerza.Venezuela, que solía ser la democracia más antigua de la región, sufrió una serie de crisis constitucionales cuando el entonces presidente Hugo Chávez se enfrentó con jueces y otros órganos gubernamentales que bloquearon su agenda. Cada vez, Chávez —y luego su sucesor, Nicolás Maduro— apeló a los principios legales y democráticos para justificar el debilitamiento de esas instituciones hasta que, con el tiempo, las acciones de los líderes, en apariencia para salvar la democracia, prácticamente las destriparon.Hugo Chávez, expresidente de Venezuela, llegando a la Asamblea Nacional para su discurso anual sobre el estado de la nación en Caracas, en 2012. Él y su sucesor apelaron a los principios legales y democráticos para justificar su debilitamiento de las instituciones democráticas.Ariana Cubillos/Associated PressLas presidencias no son comunes en las democracias occidentales. Una de las pocas, en Francia, experimentó su propia crisis constitucional en 1958, año en el que se evitó un intento de golpe militar cuando el líder Charles de Gaulle se otorgó poderes de emergencia para establecer un gobierno de unidad que satisficiera a los líderes civiles y militares.Si bien otros tipos de sistemas pueden caer en grandes crisis, a menudo se debe a que, al igual que en una democracia presidencial, los centros de poder en rivalidad chocan hasta el punto de intentar invadir al otro.Aun así, algunos académicos argumentan que los estadounidenses que esperan comprender la trayectoria de su país no deberían mirar a Europa, sino a América Latina.Ecuador estuvo cerca del precipicio en 2018 debido al esfuerzo del entonces presidente Rafael Correa de extender sus propios límites de mandato. Pero cuando los votantes y la élite política se opusieron, Correa dejó el cargo de manera voluntaria.En 2019, Bolivia se sumió en el caos en medio de una elección disputada. Aunque la opinión pública estuvo dividida, las élites políticas y militares señalaron que creían que el líder de izquierda en funciones en aquel momento, Evo Morales, debía dejar el cargo y prácticamente lo obligaron a hacerlo.Sin embargo, cuando el remplazo de derecha de Morales no pudo evitar meses de inestabilidad y turbulencia y luego se dispuso a posponer las elecciones, muchas de esas mismas élites presionaron para que estas se realizaran rápidamente, lo que benefició al sucesor elegido por Morales.Evo Morales, expresidente de Bolivia, hablando con la prensa el día de las elecciones en La Paz, en octubre de 2019. El país se sumió en el caos tras las elecciones, que fueron objeto de controversia.Martin Alipaz/EPA vía ShutterstockLa frase “élites políticas” puede evocar imágenes de poderosos que fuman puros y se reúnen en secreto para mover los hilos de la sociedad. En realidad, los académicos usan el término para describir a legisladores, jueces, burócratas, autoridades policiales y militares, funcionarios locales, líderes empresariales y figuras culturales, la mayoría de los cuales nunca coordinarían directamente, muchos menos acordarían qué es lo mejor para el país.Aun así, son esas élites las que, en colectivo, preservan la democracia día a día. Del mismo modo en que el papel moneda solo tiene valor porque todos lo tratamos como valioso, las elecciones y las leyes solo tienen poder porque las élites se despiertan cada mañana y las consideran primordiales. Es una especie de pacto, en el que los poderosos se vinculan voluntariamente a un sistema que también los restringe.“Una democracia organizada y en buen funcionamiento no nos exige pensar activamente en qué la sostiene”, me dijo Tom Pepinsky, politólogo de la Universidad Cornell, poco después de los disturbios en el Capitolio, el 6 de enero de 2021. “Es un equilibrio; todos están motivados a participar como si continuara”.Pero en una enorme crisis constitucional, cuando las normas y reglas destinadas a guiar la democracia se ponen en duda o se dejan de lado por completo, esas élites, súbitamente, se enfrentan a la pregunta de cómo —o si se debe— mantener su pacto democrático.No siempre estarán de acuerdo sobre cuál es el mejor camino para la democracia, para el país o para ellos mismos. En ocasiones, el impacto de ver la vulnerabilidad de la democracia los llevará a redoblar su compromiso con ella. En otras, a deshacerse de ese sistema en parte o en su totalidad.El resultado, a menudo, es una lucha de élites que se presionan entre sí directamente, como lo hicieron muchos republicanos de alto rango y asesores de la Casa Blanca durante el 6 de enero, o mediante declaraciones públicas dirigidas a los miles de funcionarios que operan la maquinaria del gobierno.Los académicos denominan esto como un “juego de coordinación”, en el que todos esos actores intentan comprender o influir en la manera en que otros responderán, hasta que surja un consenso mínimamente viable. Puede no parecerse tanto a una trama bien definida, sino más bien a una manada de animales asustados, por lo que el resultado puede ser difícil de predecir.Antes del 6 de enero, no había muchas razones para cuestionar el compromiso de los legisladores con la democracia. “No se había cuestionado si apoyaban o no la democracia en un sentido interno real; eso nunca había estado en juego”, afirmó Pepinsky.Ahora, una crisis los había obligado a decidir si anular las elecciones, y eso demostró que no todos esos legisladores, de tener esa opción, votarían para defender la democracia. “Me ha sorprendido demasiado cuánto de esto en realidad depende de 535 personas”, confesó Pepinsky, refiriéndose a la cantidad de legisladores en el Congreso.Max Fisher es reportero y columnista de temas internacionales con sede en Nueva York. Ha reportado sobre conflictos, diplomacia y cambio social desde cinco continentes. Es autor de The Interpreter, una columna que explora las ideas y el contexto detrás de los principales eventos mundiales de actualidad. @Max_Fisher • Facebook More

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      Jan. 6 Hearings Underscore Hard Truths About Democracy

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      When political leaders face a constitutional crisis, like that of Jan. 6, the process of collectively deciding how to respond can be messy, arbitrary, and sometimes change the nature of the system itself.If you look for international parallels to the moment last year when Vice President Mike Pence refused to bow to pressure from President Donald J. Trump to help overturn their election defeat, something quickly becomes clear.Such crises, with democracy’s fate left to a handful of officials, rarely resolve purely on legal or constitutional principles, even if those might later be cited as justification.Rather, their outcome is usually determined by whichever political elites happen to form a quick critical mass in favor of one result. And those officials are left to follow whatever motivation — principle, partisan antipathy, self-interest — happens to move them.Taken together, the history of modern constitutional crises underscores some hard truths about democracy. Supposedly bedrock norms, like free elections or rule of law, though portrayed as irreversibly cemented into the national foundation, are in truth only as solid as the commitment of those in power. And while a crisis can be an opportunity for leaders to reinforce democratic norms, it can also be an opportunity to revise or outright revoke them.Amid Yugoslavia’s 2000 election, for example, the opposition declared it had won enough votes to unseat President Slobodan Milosevic, whose government falsely claimed the opposition had fallen short.Both sides appealed to constitutional principles, legal procedures and, with protests raging, public will. Ultimately, a critical mass of government and police officials, including some in positions necessary to certify the outcome, signaled that, for reasons that varied individual to individual, they would treat Mr. Milosevic as the election’s loser. The new government later extradited him to face war crimes charges at The Hague.Slobodan Milosevic, the former president of Yugoslavia, applauding during a passing-out ceremony of recruits at the military academy in Belgrade, in 2000. Mr. Milosevic was declared the loser of a disputed election, and later extradited to face war crimes charges at The Hague. Agence France-PresseAmericans may see more in common with Peru. There, President Alberto Fujimori in 1992 dissolved the opposition-held Congress, which had been moving to impeach him. Lawmakers across the spectrum quickly voted to replace Mr. Fujimori with his own vice president, who had opposed the presidential power grab.Both sides claimed to be defending democracy from the other. Both appealed to Peru’s military, which had traditionally played a role of ultimate arbiter, almost akin to that of a supreme court. The public, deeply polarized, split. The military was also split.The Themes of the Jan. 6 House Committee HearingsMaking a Case Against Trump: The committee appears to be laying out a road map for prosecutors to indict former President Donald J. Trump. But the path to any trial is uncertain.Day One: During the first hearing, the panel presented a gripping story with a sprawling cast of characters, but only three main players: Mr. Trump, the Proud Boys and a Capitol Police officer.Day Two: In its second hearing, the committee showed how Mr. Trump ignored aides and advisers in declaring victory prematurely and relentlessly pressing claims of fraud he was told were wrong.Day Three: Mr. Trump pressured Vice President Mike Pence to go along with a plan to overturn his loss even after he was told it was illegal, according to testimony laid out by the panel during the third hearing.At the critical moment, enough political and military elites signaled support for Mr. Fujimori that he prevailed. They came together informally, each reacting to events individually, and many appealing to different ends, such as Mr. Fujimori’s economic agenda, notions of stability, or a chance for their party to prevail under the new order.Peru fell into quasi-authoritarianism, with political rights curtailed and elections still held but under terms that favored Mr. Fujimori, until he was removed from office in 2000 over corruption allegations. Last year, his daughter ran for the presidency as a right-wing populist, losing by less than 50,000 votes.Modern Latin America has repeatedly faced such crises. This is due less to any shared cultural traits, many scholars argue, than to a history of Cold War meddling that weakened democratic norms. It also stems from American-style presidential systems, and deep social polarization that paves the way for extreme political combat.Presidential democracies, by dividing power among competing branches, create more opportunities for rival offices to clash, even to the point of usurping one another’s powers. Such systems also blur questions of who is in charge, forcing their branches to resolve disputes informally, on the fly and at times by force.Venezuela, once the region’s oldest democracy, endured a series of constitutional crises as President Hugo Chávez clashed with judges and other government bodies that blocked his agenda. Each time, Mr. Chávez, and later his successor, Nicolás Maduro, appealed to legal and democratic principles to justify weakening those institutions until, over time, the leaders’ actions, ostensibly to save democracy, had all but gutted it.Hugo Chavez, the former president of Venezuela, arriving at the National Assembly for his annual state of the union address in Caracas, Venezuela, in 2012. He and his successor appealed to legal and democratic principles to justify their weakening of democratic institutions.Ariana Cubillos/Associated PressPresidencies are rare in Western democracies. One of the few, in France, saw its own constitutional crisis in 1958, when an attempted military coup was diverted only when the wartime leader Charles de Gaulle handed himself emergency powers to establish a unity government that satisfied both civilian and military leaders.While other systems can fall into major crisis, it is often because, as in a presidential democracy, competing power centers clash to the point of trying to overrun one another.Still, some scholars argue that Americans hoping to understand their country’s trajectory should look not to Europe but to Latin America.Ecuador came near the brink in 2018 over then-President Rafael Correa’s effort to extend his own term limits. But when voters and the political elite alike opposed this, Mr. Correa left office voluntarily.In 2019, Bolivia fell into chaos amid a disputed election. Though the public split, political and military elites signaled that they believed that the incumbent, the left-wing firebrand Evo Morales, should step down, all but forcing him to do so.Still, when Mr. Morales’s right-wing replacement oversaw months of turmoil and then moved to postpone elections, many of those same elites pushed for a quick vote instead, which elevated Mr. Morales’s handpicked successor.Evo Morales, the former president of Bolivia, speaking to the press on election day in La Paz, Bolivia, in October 2019. The country fell into chaos after the election, which was disputed.Martin Alipaz/EPA, via ShutterstockThe phrase “political elites” can conjure images of cigar-chomping power-brokers, meeting in secret to pull society’s strings. In reality, scholars use the term to describe lawmakers, judges, bureaucrats, police and military officers, local officials, business chiefs and cultural figures, most of whom will never coordinate directly, much less agree on what is best for the country.Still, it is those elites who collectively uphold democracy day-to-day. Much as paper money only has value because we all treat it as valuable, elections and laws only have power because elites wake up every morning and treat them as paramount. It is a kind of compact, in which the powerful voluntarily bind themselves to a system that also constrains them.“A well-functioning, orderly democracy does not require us to actively think about what sustains it,” Tom Pepinsky, a Cornell University political scientist, told me shortly after the Capitol riot on Jan. 6, 2021. “It’s an equilibrium; everybody is incentivized to participate as if it will continue.”But in a major constitutional crisis, when the norms and rules meant to guide democracy come under doubt, or fall by the wayside entirely, those elites suddenly face the question of how — or whether — to keep up their democratic compact.They will not always agree on what course is best for democracy, or for the country, or for themselves. Sometimes, the shock of seeing democracy’s vulnerability will lead them to redouble their commitment to it, and sometimes to jettison that system in part or whole.The result is often a scramble of elites pressuring one another directly, as many senior Republicans and White House aides did throughout Jan. 6, or through public statements aimed at the thousands of officials operating the machinery of government.Scholars call this a “coordination game,” with all those actors trying to understand and influence how the others will respond until a minimally viable consensus emerges. It can resemble less a well-defined plot than a herd of startled animals, which is why the outcome can be hard to predict.Before Jan. 6, there had been little reason to wonder over lawmakers’ commitment to democracy. “It had not been a question of whether or not they supported democracy in a real internal sense — that had never been the stakes,” Dr. Pepinsky said.Now, a crisis had forced them to decide whether to overturn the election, demonstrating that not all of those lawmakers, if given that choice, would vote to uphold democracy. “I’ve been floored by how much of this really does depend on 535 people,” Dr. Pepinsky said, referring to the number of lawmakers in Congress.. More

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      Christian Nationalism Is One of Trump’s Most Powerful Weapons

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      This article is part of a collection on the events of Jan. 6, one year later. Read more in a note from Times Opinion’s politics editor Ezekiel Kweku in our Opinion Today newsletter.The most serious attempt to overthrow the American constitutional system since the Civil War would not have been feasible without the influence of America’s Christian nationalist movement. One year later, the movement seems to have learned a lesson: If it tries harder next time, it may well succeed in making the promise of American democracy a relic of the past.Christian nationalist symbolism was all over the events of Jan. 6, as observers have pointed out. But the movement’s contribution to the effort to overturn the 2020 election and install an unelected president goes much deeper than the activities of a few of its representatives on the day that marks the unsuccessful end (or at least a temporary setback) of an attempted coup.A critical precondition for Donald Trump’s attempt to retain the presidency against the will of the people was the cultivation of a substantial population of voters prepared to believe his fraudulent claim that the election was stolen — a line of argument Mr. Trump began preparing well before the election, at the first presidential debate.The role of social and right-wing media in priming the base for the claim that the election was fraudulent is by now well understood. The role of the faith-based messaging sphere is less well appreciated. Pastors, congregations and the religious media are among the most trusted sources of information for many voters. Christian nationalist leaders have established richly funded national organizations and initiatives to exploit this fact. The repeated message that they sought to deliver through these channels is that outside sources of information are simply not credible. The creation of an information bubble, impervious to correction, was the first prerequisite of Mr. Trump’s claim.The coup attempt also would not have been possible without the unshakable sense of persecution that movement leaders have cultivated among the same base of voters. Christian nationalism today begins with the conviction that conservative Christians are the most oppressed group in American society. Among leaders of the movement, it is a matter of routine to hear talk that they are engaged in a “battle against tyranny,” and that the Bible may soon be outlawed.A final precondition for the coup attempt was the belief, among the target population, that the legitimacy of the United States government derives from its commitment to a particular religious and cultural heritage, and not from its democratic form. It is astonishing to many that the leaders of the Jan. 6 attack on the constitutional electoral process styled themselves as “patriots.” But it makes a glimmer of sense once you understand that their allegiance is to a belief in blood, earth and religion, rather than to the mere idea of a government “of the people, by the people, for the people.”Given the movement’s role in laying the groundwork for the coup attempt, its leaders faced a quandary when Mr. Trump began to push his repeatedly disproven claims — and that quandary turned into a test of character on Jan. 6. Would they go along with an attempt to overthrow America’s democratic system?Some attempted to rewrite the facts about Jan. 6. The former Republican Representative Michele Bachmann suggested the riot was the work of “paid rabble rousers,” while the activist and author Lance Wallnau, who has praised Mr. Trump as “God’s chaos candidate,” blamed “the local antifa mob.” Many leaders, like Charlie Kirk, appeared to endorse Mr. Trump’s claims about a fraudulent election. Others, like Michael Farris, president and chief executive of the religious right legal advocacy group Alliance Defending Freedom, provided indirect but no less valuable support by concern-trolling about supposed “constitutional irregularities” in battleground states.None appeared willing to condemn Mr. Trump for organizing an attempt to prevent the peaceful transfer of power to President-elect Joe Biden. On the contrary, the Rev. Franklin Graham, writing on Facebook, condemned “these ten” from Mr. Trump’s “own party” who voted to impeach him and mused, “It makes you wonder what the thirty pieces of silver were that Speaker Pelosi promised for this betrayal.”At Christian nationalist conferences I have been reporting on, I have heard speakers go out of their way to defend and even lionize the Jan. 6 insurrectionists. At the Road to Majority conference, which was held in Central Florida in June 2021, the author and radio host Eric Metaxas said, “The reason I think we are being so persecuted, why the Jan. 6 folks are being persecuted, when you’re over the target like that, oh my.” At that same conference, the political commentator Dinesh D’Souza, in conversation with the religious right strategist Ralph Reed, said, “The people who are really getting shafted right now are the Jan. 6 protesters,” before adding, “We won’t defend our guys even when they’re good guys.” Mr. Reed nodded in response and replied, “I think Donald Trump taught our movement a lot.”Movement leaders now appear to be working to prime the base for the next attempt to subvert the electoral process. At dozens of conservative churches in swing states this past year, groups of pastors were treated to presentations by an initiative called Faith Wins. Featuring speakers like David Barton, a key figure in the fabrication of Christian nationalist myths about history, and led by Chad Connelly, a Republican political veteran, Faith Wins serves up elections skepticism while demanding that pastors mobilize their flocks to vote “biblical” values. “Every pastor you know needs to make sure 100 percent of the people in their pews are voting, and voting biblical values,” Mr. Connelly told the assembled pastors at a Faith Wins event in Chantilly, Va. in September.“The church is not a cruise ship, the church is a battleship,” added Byron Foxx, an evangelist touring with Faith Wins. The Faith Wins team also had at its side Hogan Gidley, a deputy press secretary in the Trump White House, who now runs the Center for Election Integrity, an initiative of the America First Policy Institute, a group led in part by former members of the Trump administration. Mr. Gidley informed the gathering that his group is “nonpartisan” — and then went on to mention that in the last election cycle there were “A lot of rogue secretaries of state, a lot of rogue governors.”He was presumably referring to Brad Raffensperger, the Republican secretary of state of Georgia who earned the ire of Trumpists by rebuffing the former president’s request to find him an additional 11,780 votes. “You saw the stuff in Arizona, you’re going to see more stuff in Wisconsin, these are significant issues, and we can’t be dismissed out of hand anymore, the facts are too glaring,” Mr. Gidley said. In fact, the Republican-backed audit of votes in Arizona’s largest county confirmed that President Biden won Arizona by more votes than previously thought. But the persecution narrative is too politically useful to discard simply because it’s not true.Even as movement leaders are preparing for a possible restoration of a Trumpist regime — a period they continue to regard as a golden age in retrospect — they are advancing in parallel on closely related fronts. Among the most important of these has to do with public education.In the panic arising out of the claim that America’s schools are indoctrinating young children in critical race theory, or C.R.T., it isn’t hard to detect the ritualized workings of the same information bubble, persecution complex and sense of entitlement that powered the coup attempt. Whatever you make of the new efforts in state legislatures to impose new “anti-C.R.T.” restrictions on speech and teaching in public schools, the more important consequence is to extend the religious right’s longstanding program to undermine confidence in public education, an effort that religious right leaders see as essential both for the movement’s long-term funding prospects and for its antidemocratic agenda.Opposition to public education is part of the DNA of America’s religious right. The movement came together in the 1970s not solely around abortion politics, as later mythmakers would have it, but around the outrage of the I.R.S. threatening to take away the tax-exempt status of church-led “segregation academies.” In 1979, Jerry Falwell said he hoped to see the day when there wouldn’t be “any public schools — the churches will have taken them over again and Christians will be running them.”Today, movement leaders have their eye on the approximately $700 billion that federal, state, and local governments spend yearly on education. The case of Carson v. Makin, which is before the Supreme Court this term and involves a challenge, in Maine, to prohibitions on using state tuition aid to attend religious schools, could force taxpayers to fund sectarian schools no matter how discriminatory their policies or fanatical their teachings. The endgame is to get a chunk of this money with the help either of state legislatures or the Supreme Court, which in its current configuration might well be convinced that religious schools have a right to taxpayer funds.This longstanding anti-public school agenda is the driving force behind the movement’s effort to orchestrate the anti-C.R.T. campaign. The small explosions of hate detonating in public school boards across the nation are not entirely coming from the grass roots up. The Family Research Council, a Washington, D.C.-based Christian right policy group, recently held an online School Board Boot Camp, a four-hour training session providing instruction on how to run for school boards and against C.R.T. and to recruit others to do so. The Bradley Foundation, Heritage Action for America, and The Manhattan Institute are among those providing support for groups on the forefront of the latest public school culture wars.A decade ago, the radical aims at the ideological core of the Christian nationalist movement were there to see for anybody who looked. Not many bothered to look, and those who did were often dismissed as alarmist. More important, most Republican Party leaders at the time distanced themselves from theocratic extremists. They avoided the rhetoric of Seven Mountains dominionism, an ideology that calls explicitly for the domination of the seven “peaks” of modern civilization (including government and education) by Christians of the correct, supposedly biblical variety.What a difference a decade makes. National organizations like the Faith & Freedom Coalition and the Ziklag Group, which bring together prominent Republican leaders with donors and religious right activists, feature “Seven Mountains” workshops and panels at their gatherings. Nationalist leaders and their political dependents in the Republican Party now state quite openly what before they whispered to one another over their prayer breakfasts. Whether the public will take notice remains to be seen.Katherine Stewart (@kathsstewart) is the author of “The Power Worshippers: Inside the Dangerous Rise of Religious Nationalism.”The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Twitter (@NYTopinion) and Instagram. More

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      As U.S. Navigates Crisis in Haiti, a Bloody History Looms Large

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      American policy decisions are vital to understanding Haiti’s political instability, and why it remains the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere.In September 1994, the United States was on the verge of invading Haiti.Jean-Bertrand Aristide, the country’s first democratically elected president, had been deposed in a military coup three years earlier. Haiti had descended into chaos. Gangs and paramilitaries terrorized the population — taking hostages, assassinating dissidents and burning crops. International embargoes had strangled the economy, and tens of thousands of people were trying to emigrate to America.But just days before the first U.S. troops would land in Haiti, Joseph R. Biden Jr., then a senator on the Foreign Affairs Committee, spoke against a military intervention. He argued that the United States had more pressing crises — including ethnic cleansing in Bosnia — and that Haiti was not especially important to American interests.“I think it’s probably not wise,” Mr. Biden said of the planned invasion in an interview with television host Charlie Rose.He added: “If Haiti — a God-awful thing to say — if Haiti just quietly sunk into the Caribbean or rose up 300 feet, it wouldn’t matter a whole lot in terms of our interest.”Despite Mr. Biden’s apprehension, the invasion went forward and the Haitian military junta surrendered within hours. Mr. Aristide was soon restored to power, and the Clinton administration began deporting thousands of Haitians.Nearly a decade later, Haiti’s constitutional order would collapse again, prompting another U.S. military intervention, more migrants and more deportations. As rebels threatened to invade the capital in 2004, Mr. Aristide resigned under pressure from U.S. officials. A provisional government was formed with American backing. The violence and unrest continued.That cycle of crisis and U.S. intervention in Haiti — punctuated by periods of relative calm but little improvement in the lives of most people — has persisted to this day. Since July, a presidential assassination, an earthquake and a tropical storm have deepened the turmoil.Mr. Biden, now president, is overseeing yet another intervention in Haiti’s political affairs, one that his critics say is following an old Washington playbook: backing Haitian leaders accused of authoritarian rule, either because they advance American interests or because U.S. officials fear the instability of a transition of power. Making sense of American policy in Haiti over the decades — driven at times by economic interests, Cold War strategy and migration concerns — is vital to understanding Haiti’s political instability, and why it remains the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere, even after an infusion of more than $5 billion in U.S. aid in the last decade alone.A bloody history of American influence looms large, and a century of U.S. efforts to stabilize and develop the country have ultimately ended in failure.Marines in Haiti marched during the last days of occupation, which ended in 1934 under President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s Good Neighbor Policy.Bettmann/Getty ImagesThe American Occupation (1915-34)The politics of slavery and racial prejudice were key factors in early American hostility to Haiti. After the Haitian Revolution, Thomas Jefferson and many in Congress feared that the newly founded Black republic would spread slave revolts in the United States.For decades, the United States refused to formally recognize Haiti’s independence from France, and at times tried to annex Haitian territory and conduct diplomacy through threats.It was against this backdrop that Haiti became increasingly unstable. The country went through seven presidents between 1911 and 1915, all either assassinated or removed from power. Haiti was heavily in debt, and Citibank — then the National City Bank of New York — and other American banks confiscated much of Haiti’s gold reserves during that period with the help of U.S. Marines.Roger L. Farnham, who managed National City Bank’s assets in Haiti, then lobbied President Woodrow Wilson for a military intervention to stabilize the country and force the Haitian government to pay its debts, convincing the president that France or Germany might invade if America did not.The military occupation that followed remains one of the darkest chapters of American policy in the Caribbean. The United States installed a puppet regime that rewrote Haiti’s constitution and gave America control over the country’s finances. Forced labor was used for construction and other work to repay debts. Thousands were killed by U.S. Marines.The occupation ended in 1934 under President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s Good Neighbor Policy. As the last Marines departed Haiti, riots broke out in Port-au-Prince, the capital. Bridges were destroyed, telephone lines were cut and the new president declared martial law and suspended the constitution. The United States did not completely relinquish control of Haiti’s finances until 1947.François Duvalier, top, and his son Jean-Claude, bottom, were both dictators who presented themselves as anti-communist to gain the support of the United States.Agence France–Presse/ Getty ImagesThe Duvalier DynastyThe ruthless dictator François Duvalier took power in 1957, as Fidel Castro led a revolution in Cuba and as U.S. interests in the region were becoming increasingly focused on limiting the influence of the Soviet Union.Duvalier, like many other dictators in the Caribbean and Latin America, recognized that he could secure American support if he presented his government as anti-communist. U.S. officials privately described Duvalier as “the worst dictator in the hemisphere,” while deeming him preferable to the perceived risk of a communist Haiti.When the United States suspended aid programs because of atrocities committed soon after Duvalier took office, the Haitian leader hired public relations firms, including one run by Roosevelt’s youngest son, to repair the relationship.Duvalier — and later his son Jean-Claude — ultimately enjoyed significant American support in the form of aid (much of it embezzled by the family), training for Haitian paramilitary forces who would go on to commit atrocities and even a Marine deployment in 1959 despite the protests of American diplomats in Haiti.By 1961, the United States was sending Duvalier $13 million in aid a year — equivalent to half of Haiti’s national budget.Even after the United States had tired of Duvalier’s brutality and unstable leadership, President John F. Kennedy demurred on a plot to remove him and mandate free elections. When Duvalier died nearly a decade later, the United States supported the succession of his son. By 1986, the United States had spent an estimated $900 million supporting the Duvalier dynasty as Haiti plunged deeper into poverty and corruption.President Jovenel Moïse, who was assassinated in July, ruled Haiti by decree and turned to authoritarian tactics with the tacit approval of the Trump and Biden administrations.Adriana Zehbrauskas for The New York TimesFavored CandidatesAt crucial moments in Haiti’s democratic era, the United States has intervened to pick winners and losers — fearful of political instability and surges of Haitian migration.After Mr. Aristide was ousted in 1991, the U.S. military reinstalled him. He resigned in disgrace less than a decade later, but only after American diplomats urged him to do so. According to reports from that time, the George W. Bush administration had undermined Mr. Aristide’s government in the years before his resignationFrançois Pierre-Louis is a political science professor at Queens College in New York who served in Mr. Aristide’s cabinet and advised former Prime Minister Jacques-Édouard Alexis. Haitians are often suspicious of American involvement in their affairs, he said, but still take signals from U.S. officials seriously because of the country’s long history of influence over Haitian politics.For example, after the 2010 earthquake in Haiti, American and other international diplomats pressured Haiti to hold elections that year despite the devastation. The vote was disastrously mismanaged, and international observers and many Haitians considered the results illegitimate.Responding to the allegations of voter fraud, American diplomats insisted that one candidate in the second round of the presidential election be replaced with a candidate who received fewer votes — at one point threatening to halt aid over the dispute. Hillary Clinton, then the secretary of state, confronted then-President René Préval about putting Michel Martelly, America’s preferred candidate, on the ballot. Mr. Martelly won that election in a landslide.A direct line of succession can be traced from that election to Haiti’s current crisis.Mr. Martelly endorsed Jovenel Moïse as his successor. Mr. Moïse, who was elected in 2016, ruled by decree and turned to authoritarian tactics with the tacit approval of the Trump and Biden administrations.Mr. Moïse appointed Ariel Henry as acting prime minister earlier this year. Then on July 7, Mr. Moïse was assassinated.Mr. Henry has been accused of being linked to the assassination plot, and political infighting that had quieted after international diplomats endorsed his claim to power has reignited. Mr. Martelly, who had clashed with Mr. Moïse over business interests, is considering another run for the presidency.Robert Maguire, a Haiti scholar and retired professor of international affairs at George Washington University, said the instinct in Washington to back members of Haiti’s political elite who appeared allied with U.S. interests was an old one, with a history of failure.Another approach could have more success, according to Mr. Maguire and other scholars, Democratic lawmakers and a former U.S. envoy for Haiti policy. They say the United States should support a grass-roots commission of civic leaders, who are drafting plans for a new provisional government in Haiti.That process, however, could take years. More

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      Behind the Scenes of the Events of Jan. 6

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      More from our inbox:‘I Won’t Mount a Coup.’ Now Is That Too Much to Ask?Missing Yazidis, Captives of ISIS: ‘The World Must Act’Clerical Celibacy in the Catholic ChurchTaxing the UltrarichAn appearance in 2019 on Mark Levin’s Fox News show brought John Eastman, right, to President Donald J. Trump’s attention.via Fox News ChannelTo the Editor:Re “He Drafted Plan to Keep Trump in White House” (front page, Oct. 3) and “Jan. 6 Was Worse Than It Looked” (editorial, Oct. 3):Regarding my advice to Vice President Mike Pence in the days before the joint session of Congress on Jan. 6: Although I take issue with some statements in the front-page news article, its most important point, one backed up by very thorough reporting, is that I did not recommend “that Mr. Pence could simply disregard the law and summarily reject electors of certain key battleground states,” as your editorial contends.Rather, as your own reporters noted, I told Mr. Pence that even if he did have such power, “it would be foolish for him to exercise it until state legislatures certified a new set of electors for Mr. Trump.”That honest bit of reporting contradicts not only your editorial but also myriad other news accounts to the same effect.John C. EastmanUpland, Calif.The writer is a senior fellow at the Claremont Institute.To the Editor:Reading the excellent but frightening editorial “Jan. 6 Was Worse Than It Looked,” I was not surprised that the former president wanted to stay in power despite losing a fair election. What was staggering was the number of people who wanted to help him.Jana GoldmanHonor, Mich.To the Editor:Your editorial hit on a serious issue that worries us all, including your many friends in Australia. An independent electoral commission manages, scrutinizes, counts the votes and announces the results of all state and federal elections in Australia.No one ever doubts its word, and challenges are resolved by it quickly and based on evidence that is made publicly available, and only very rarely end up in the courts. The commission also draws electoral boundaries, according to statutory formulas, so there’s no possibility of gerrymandering.We find the heavy politicization of your system puzzling.Nuncio D’AngeloSydney, AustraliaTo the Editor:In “He Drafted Plan to Keep Trump in White House,” John Eastman’s influence is attributed to giving President Trump “what he wanted to hear.”The former F.B.I. director William Webster gave me the most important advice on leadership when I was a White House fellow serving as one of his special assistants. As the only nonlawyer on his executive staff, I was unsure about my job description until he explained, “Your job is to make sure I hear things people think I don’t want to hear or that they don’t want me to hear.” Within a day, it was clear what that entailed.I have shared that advice, and it has proved valuable for countless leaders. Mr. Eastman demonstrates the risks of disregarding it.Merrie SpaethPlano, Texas‘I Won’t Mount a Coup.’ Now Is That Too Much to Ask?  Jason Andrew for The New York TimesTo the Editor:Is there a chance that in the 2024 election all the presidential candidates would sign a pledge that if they lose the election they will not try to overthrow the government?William Dodd BrownChicagoMissing Yazidis, Captives of ISIS: ‘The World Must Act’The Sharya camp near Duhok in August.Hawre Khalid for The New York TimesTo the Editor:Re “Yazidis Know Some of Their Missing Are Alive, as Captives” (news article, Oct. 4):As a Yazidi, I read this piece with a heavy heart, and I ache to do more for these women, children and families. I have been to the camps in Duhok, in northern Iraq, and met with many families hoping for their loved ones to return, but they can barely afford daily necessities, let alone ransoms.I believe that what we need is a task force, comprising Iraqi authorities, U.N. agencies and civil society organizations, formed with the sole goal of searching for and rescuing Yazidi captives of the Islamic State.Opportunities for asylum must be expanded and support given for their recovery. Every necessary resource should be committed to ensuring that survivors can live in freedom and safety for the first time in years.Seven years is an unthinkable amount of time to be held in sexual slavery. We must act. The world must act to rescue women and children from captivity.Abid ShamdeenWashingtonThe writer is executive director of Nadia’s Initiative, which advocates for survivors of sexual violence.Clerical Celibacy in the Catholic Church Benoit Tessier/ReutersTo the Editor:Re “Report Describes Abuse of Minors Permeating Catholic Church in France” (news article, Oct. 6):Clerical celibacy in the Catholic Church wasn’t imposed until the 12th century. How many more of these stories do we have to read until the church acknowledges that it made a dire, if well-intentioned, mistake by instituting that policy?Kate RoseHoustonTaxing the Ultrarich  Erik CarterTo the Editor:Re “This Is How America’s Richest Families Stay That Way,” by Robin Kaiser-Schatzlein (Opinion guest essay, nytimes.com, Sept. 24):Mr. Kaiser-Schatzlein states that the ultrarich could pass on stock bought for $1 but worth $100 at death, and that the inheritors would pay tax only on gains above the $100. While that is accurate, it neglects to mention that instead of paying the federal capital gains rate of 20 percent on the $99 gain, the estate would pay the estate tax of 40 percent on the full $100 value (since we are discussing the ultrarich, the $11.7 million exclusion for the estate tax would be a rounding error).This omission gives the misleading impression that the inheritance would be untaxed, when in fact it would be taxed at a higher rate.Peter KnellPasadena, Calif.The writer is managing director of an investment management company. More

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      The Trump Coup Is Still Raging

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      What happened at the Capitol on Jan. 6 was not a coup attempt. It was half of a coup attempt — the less important half.The more important part of the coup attempt — like legal wrangling in states and the attempts to sabotage the House commission’s investigation of Jan. 6 — is still going strong. These are not separate and discrete episodes but parts of a unitary phenomenon that, in just about any other country, would be characterized as a failed coup d’état.As the Republican Party tries to make up its mind between wishing away the events of Jan. 6 or celebrating them, one thing should be clear to conservatives estranged from the party: We can’t go home again.The attempted coup’s foot soldiers have dug themselves in at state legislatures. For example, last week in Florida State Representative Anthony Sabatini introduced a draft of legislation that would require an audit of the 2020 general election in the state’s largest (typically Democratic-heavy) counties, suggesting without basis that it may show that these areas cheated to inflate Joe Biden’s vote count.Florida’s secretary of state, a Republican, knows that an audit is nonsense and has said so. But the point of an audit would not be to change the outcome (Mr. Trump won the state). The point is not even really to conduct an audit.The obviously political object is to legitimize the 2020 coup attempt in order to soften the ground for the next one — and there will be a next one.In the broad strategy, the frenzied mobs were meant to inspire terror — and obedience among Republicans — while Rudy Giuliani and his co-conspirators tried to get the election nullified on some risible legal pretext or another. Republicans needed both pieces — neither the mob violence nor an inconclusive legal ruling would have been sufficient on its own to keep Mr. Trump in power.True to form, Mr. Trump was able to supply the mob but not the procedural victory. His coup attempt was frustrated in no small part by a thin gray line of bureaucratic fortitude — Republican officials at the state and local levels who had the grit to resist intense pressure from the president and do their jobs.Current efforts like the one in Florida are intended to terrorize them into compliance today or, short of that, to push such officials into retirement so that they can be replaced with more pliant partisans. The lonely little band of Republican officials who stopped the 2020 coup is going to be smaller and lonelier the next time around.That’s why the Great Satan for the Republican Party right now is not Mr. Biden but Representative Liz Cheney of Wyoming, one of a small number of Republicans willing to speak honestly about Jan. 6 and to support the investigation into it — and willing to contradict powerful people like Kevin McCarthy of California, who has falsely (and preposterously) claimed that the F.B.I. has cleared Mr. Trump of any involvement in Jan. 6.The emerging Republican orthodoxy on Jan. 6 is created by pure political engineering, with most party leaders either minimizing, halfheartedly defending or wholeheartedly celebrating the coup, depending on their audience and ambitions. Pragmatic party leaders like Mitch McConnell, and others like him who were never passionately united with Mr. Trump but need his voters, are hoping that the memory of the riot gets swept away by the ugly news from Afghanistan and the usual hurly-burly. But other Republicans have praised the rioters: Representative Madison Cawthorn of North Carolina insisted that those who have been jailed are “political prisoners” and warned that “bloodshed” might follow another “stolen” election. The middle-ground Republican consensus is that the sacking of the Capitol was at worst the unfortunate escalation of a well-intentioned protest involving legitimate electoral grievances. More