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    The Law of Unintended Political Consequences Strikes Again

    The killing of George Floyd and the nationwide Black Lives Matter protests that followed drove an exceptionally large increase in foundation grants and pledges to criminal and racial justice reform groups and other causes, ranging from the United Negro College Fund to the Center for Antiracist Research and from the National Museum of African American History to the Yes 4 Minneapolis campaign to dismantle the Minneapolis Police Department.Candid — a website that connects “people who want to change the world with the resources they need to do it” — published “What does Candid’s grants data say about funding for racial equity in the United States?” by Anna Koob on July 24, 2020.Koob wrote:In the months since George Floyd’s murder by Minneapolis police, we witnessed a surge in attention to longstanding anti-Black racism in the United States. Although racial inequality is hardly a new phenomenon, the public reaction to these events does feel bigger and more broad based, a trend that’s reflected in the well-documented rapid increase in related philanthropic giving to racial equity in a matter of weeks.Before Floyd’s death, Candid found that philanthropies provided “$3.3 billion in racial equity funding” for the nine years from 2011 to 2019. Since then, Candid calculations revealed much higher totals for both 2020 and 2021: “50,887 grants valued at $12.7 billion” and “177 pledges valued at $11.6 billion.”Among the top funders, according to Candid’s calculations, are the Ford Foundation, at $3 billion; Mackenzie Scott, at $2.9 billion; JPMorgan Chase & Co. Contributions Program, at $2.1 billion; W.K. Kellogg Foundation, $1.2 billion; Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation, $1.1 billion; Silicon Valley Community Foundation, $1 billion; Walton Family Foundation, $689 million; The William and Flora Hewlett Foundation, $438 million; and the Foundation to Promote Open Society, $350.5 million.There are Democratic strategists who worry about unintended political consequences that could flow from this surge in philanthropic giving. Rob Stein, one of the founders of the Democracy Alliance, an organization of major donors on the left, argued in a phone interview that while most foundation spending is on programs that have widespread support, “when progressive philanthropists fund groups that promote extreme views like ‘defunding the police’ or that sanction ‘cancel culture,’ they are exacerbating intraparty conflict and stoking interparty backlash.” The danger, according to Stein, is that “some progressive politicians and funders are contributing to divisiveness within their ranks and giving fodder to the right.”Matt Bennett, senior vice president of Third Way, a centrist Democratic think tank, argued in an email:Whether inadvertent or not, some progressive foundations are funding work that is shortsighted and harmful to the long-term progress they hope to achieve. We recognize that every successful movement has people and institutions playing a variety of roles. There are folks whose job it is to push the envelope and others whose job it is to work within the system to make change. Some need to push the envelope and some need to assemble the compromise that can pass. That’s all part of the process.However, Bennett continued, “It’s crystal clear that some ideas being pushed by activists and funded by lefty foundations go beyond that paradigm, treading into territory that is flat-out politically toxic and that undermine our collective goals.”Bennett cited a post-2020 election study commissioned by Third Way and other groups that “found that Republicans used ‘Defund the Police’ as a cudgel against moderate Democrats, and it played a major role in the loss of more than a dozen House seats. These losses brought us to the brink of handing an insurrectionist the Speaker’s gavel.”“It’s also clear,” in Bennett’s view,that this work has led to a backlash, and it’s not confined to white voters. In Minneapolis, where a Defund the Police ballot initiative failed by a wide margin in November, it performed worst in the two districts with the heaviest Black populations. You have probably seen the Pew Research from October that showed declining support across the board for less funding for police. What’s even more striking is that on the question of whether police budgets should grow or shrink, Black and Hispanic Democrats are more in favor of higher police budgets than white Democrats. None of that is the fault of the foundations, but it is vital for them to fully appreciate the political context for their funding.Any foundation, Bennett declared,that completely ignores the political impact of their advocacy is violating the Hippocratic oath. They can and must keep their eye on the politics of the movements they advance. And they must balance shifting the long-term narrative of causes they support with the near-term political consequences of their actions. If they don’t, they may inadvertently provide potent political fodder to the illiberal, antidemocratic Trumpian G.O.P., and thereby endanger our republic.Michael Tomasky, editor of The New Republic, wrote at the end of November, “It’s an undeniable fact that Democratic Party elites, progressive activists, foundation and think-tank officials, and most opinion journalists are well to the left of the party’s rank and file.”It’s possible, Tomasky continued, “that certain issues, or ways of talking about certain issues, will be established as litmus tests within the party that could be quite problematic for Democrats trying to run in purple districts.”Tom Perriello, a former congressman from Virginia who is now executive director of George Soros’s Open Society-U.S., strongly defends the role of foundations. Leading up to the 2020 election, foundations invested “$700 million in voter protection that probably held democracy together,” he said in a phone interview on Tuesday. “Philanthropy saved the day.”Critics who focus on the small set of controversial foundation programs that may be used by Republicans against Democrats, Perriello said, fail to recognize that “what is hurting Democrats is that there is not a core economic message and that allows Republicans to set these (cultural and racial) issues as a priority.”Perriello cited same-sex marriage as an example of philanthropy initially “pushing the Overton window” farther than the electorate was willing to go, but, over time, “now it’s a winning issue.”Darren Walker, president of the Ford Foundation, argued in a phone interview that no consideration is — or can be — given to partisan political consequences:We make no calculations about how our grantees give credibility or not to the Democratic Party. That is of no concern to the Ford Foundation, or to me personally.Walker continued: “We support organizations that are working toward more justice and more inclusion in America, but we have no interest in the Democratic Party’s strengths or weaknesses.”I asked Walker about the concerns raised by Stein and Bennett. “We support issues that are about progress and inclusion and justice, but the chips fall where they fall,” Walker said.I also asked Walker about a subject that became a central issue in the 2021 Virginia governor’s race: “critical race theory.” Walker said that the foundation supports proponents of the theory “because we believe there is value in understanding how race is a factor in our legal system,” adding that the foundation does not support the views of its grantees “100 percent of the time, but at the end of the day we believe in certain ideas of justice and fairness in our society.”Kristen Mack, a managing director at the MacArthur Foundation, replied by email to my inquiry about foundation spending:Our grantmaking is intended to further our programmatic strategies, each of which is based on a theory of change and clear set of goals. We are aware of the larger context in the fields in which we work and recognize that our goals may be perceived by some as leaning toward a political point of view or party. Our overarching mission, however, is to create a more just, verdant and peaceful world, which is in our view a result that would be welcomed by people across the political spectrum. We are careful not to involve ourselves in, or to make decisions based on, strengthening or opposing any political party.The Nov. 2 Minneapolis election provided a case study of the complex politics of the defund-the-police movement. Voters in Minneapolis rejected — by 56 percent to 44 percent — an amendment to the city charter that would have dismantled the police department and replaced it with a department of public safety.All three wards with majorities or pluralities of Black voters — wards 4, 5 and 6 — voted against the amendment by margins larger than the citywide average, at 61.2 percent to 38.8 percent. Voters in three other of the city’s 13 wards — 8, 9 and 10 — strongly supported the amendment to disband the police department, 57 percent to 43 percent. Voters in wards 8, 9 and 10 are majority or plurality white, with whites making up 54.1 percent of the population of the three wards taken together, according to data provided to The Times by Jeff Matson of the Center for Urban and Regional Affairs at the University of Minnesota.The battle over the amendment reverberated into the races for City Council, resulting in the defeat of some incumbents who supported dismantling the police department.Esme Murphy of Minneapolis television station WCCO interviewed several of the victors:“Emily Koski, a mother of two in south Minneapolis, defeated Ward 11 incumbent Jeremy Schroeder, one of the strongest voices who in June of 2020 called for defunding the Minneapolis police.”Koski told Murphy, “I felt this was the time to step up and make sure that we are actually listening to all of our community members and I feel like they felt they had been shut out.”Similarly, in northern Minneapolis, Murphy reported: “LaTrisha Vetaw beat incumbent Phillipe Cunningham. He too was a strong supporter of replacing the police. ‘I ran because I love this community and we deserve so much better in this community than what we were getting.’”The single largest contribution, $650,000, to the Yes 4 Minneapolis PAC, the leading group seeking approval of the charter amendment to dismantle the police department, was from Soros’s Open Society Policy Center.Some philanthropies, in the view of Larry Kramer, president of the William and Flora Hewlett Foundation, have inadvertently become trapped in the politics of polarization. In a phone interview, Kramer contended:Too many — on both left and right — believe they are just one punch away from knocking the other side out. The problem, they say, is that we haven’t gone far enough, the reason we haven’t crushed the other side is because we are trimming our sails. I don’t think they see how they are widening the divide and making the fundamental problem worse.This set of beliefs in particularly problematic at this juncture, Kramer continued, because “the public has lost faith in all our institutions. Neoliberalism is dead, but in the absence of something better, people are drifting toward ethnonationalism as a way to explain what seems wrong about the world to them.”Instead of looking for a knockout punch, Kramer argued, “with neoliberalism dead, something will replace it. The challenge is to find something better than ethnonationalism — a way to think about the relationship of government and markets to people that is better suited to a 21st-century economy and society.”Jonathan Chait, a columnist for New York magazine, wrote an essay in late November on the dilemmas of the Biden presidency, “Joe Biden’s Big Squeeze,” in which he argued that progressive foundationshave churned out studies and deployed activists to bring left-wing ideas into the political debate. At this they have enjoyed overwhelming success. In recent years, a host of new slogans and plans — the Green New Deal, “Defund the police,” “Abolish ICE,” and so on — have leaped from the world of nonprofit activism onto the chyrons of MSNBC and Fox News. Obviously, the conservative media have played an important role in publicizing (and often distorting) the most radical ideas from the activist left. But the right didn’t invent these edgy slogans; the left did, injecting them into the national bloodstream.Nonprofits on the left, Chait argued, “set out to build a new Democratic majority. When the underpinnings of its theory collapsed, the movement it built simply continued onward, having persuaded itself that its ideas constituted an absolute moral imperative.”Chait went on:The grim irony is that, in attempting to court nonwhite voters, Democrats ended up turning them off. It was not only that they got the data wrong — they were also courting these “marginalized communities” in ways that didn’t appeal to them. For the reality is that the Democratic Party’s most moderate voters are disproportionately Latino and Black.The defeat of Democratic candidates up and down the ticket in the 2021 Virginia election renewed the intraparty debate.ALG Research, the major polling firm in the Joe Biden campaign, conducted, along with Third Way, a postelection study of the 2021 Virginia governor’s race, in which Glenn Youngkin, a Republican, defeated Terry McAuliffe, the Democratic nominee. The ALG study of swing voters, which I have reported on in past columns, found, for example, that Republican highlighting of critical race theory had a subtle effect on voters:CRT in schools is not an issue in and of itself, but it taps into these voters’ frustrations. Voters were nearly unanimous in describing the country as divided and feeling that politics is unavoidably in their faces.While the voters ALG studied knew that critical race theory had not been formally adopted as part of Virginia’s curriculum, the report continued,they felt like racial and social justice issues were overtaking math, history, and other things. They absolutely want their kids to hear the good and the bad of American history, at the same time they are worried that racial and cultural issues are taking over the state’s curricula. We should expect this backlash to continue, especially as it plays into another way where parents and communities feel like they are losing control over their schools in addition to the basics of even being able to decide if they’re open or not.As my colleague Jeremy W. Peters wrote in a postelection analysis last year, criticshave argued that Democrats are trying to explain major issues — such as inflation, crime and school curriculum — with answers that satisfy the party’s progressive base but are unpersuasive and off-putting to most other voters. The clearest example is in Virginia, where the Democratic candidate for governor, Terry McAuliffe, lost his election after spending weeks trying to minimize and discredit his opponent’s criticisms of public school education, particularly the way that racism is talked about. Mr. McAuliffe accused the Republican, Glenn Youngkin, of campaigning on a “made-up” issue and of blowing a “racist dog whistle.”But, Peters continued:About a quarter of Virginia voters said that the debate over teaching critical race theory, a graduate-level academic framework that has become a stand-in for a debate over what to teach about race and racism in schools, was the most important factor in their decision, and 72 percent of those voters cast ballots for Mr. Youngkin, according to a survey of more than 2,500 voters conducted for The Associated Press by NORC at the University of Chicago, a nonpartisan research organization.For leaders of the Democratic Party, these developments pose a particularly frustrating problem because they pay an electoral price for policy proposals and rhetoric that are outside party control.Some might argue that Republicans have the same problem in reverse, but that is not the case. The Republican Party cannot rein in its radical wing and has shown no real inclination to do so. Worse, to succeed in 2022 and 2024, it may not need to.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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    Why Eric Adams and Kathy Hochul Might Actually Get Along

    Mayor Eric Adams has a base that Gov. Kathy Hochul wants to reach. And she controls the money he needs to jump-start his agenda. It will be a shift for New Yorkers used to seeing their governor and mayor at odds.The first public sign that things would be different between Eric Adams, the new mayor of New York City, and Gov. Kathy Hochul came on election night, when she appeared onstage to celebrate his victory.“We’re going to need her,” Mr. Adams said, as Ms. Hochul inched toward the microphone.They have since appeared together a handful of times, vowing to work as a team instead of fighting over every little thing, as their Democratic predecessors, former Gov. Andrew M. Cuomo and Mayor Bill de Blasio, had done for nearly eight years.“In the past, there has been this tension, a polite way of saying fighting, between the governor of New York and the mayor of the City of New York,” Ms. Hochul said at a recent holiday fund-raiser for the Democratic Party of Brooklyn, which Mr. Adams also attended. “The era of fighting between those two bodies, those two people, is over.”In theory, the governor and the mayor of the nation’s largest city should have each other’s interests at heart; one can rarely prosper without the other. Yet that has not always been the case in New York, where conflicting political parties and personalities have often caused rifts.Mr. de Blasio feuded constantly with Mr. Cuomo over matters great and small: how to pay for the city’s expansive prekindergarten initiative, subway funding, the response to the pandemic and the homeless crisis. They even fought over whether to euthanize a deer.Ms. Hochul and Mr. Adams, both Democrats, seem intent on trying again, and both have compelling reasons to do so.Mr. Adams takes office as the city faces a resurgence of the coronavirus and a raft of issues that may rely on the state’s assistance. Ms. Hochul needs support from Black, Latino and moderate voters in New York City, the same base that Mr. Adams cultivated to become mayor, as she faces a moderate opponent and two likely challengers to her left in a June primary.“Every mayor, no matter who they are, is eventually confronted with the fact that New York City is a creature of the state,” said State Senator Diane Savino, a moderate Democrat who represents Staten Island and who endorsed Mr. Adams. “New York City is a significant part of the Democratic Party vote, and I’m sure the governor would like to have his support.”Governor Hochul has pledged to have a better relationship with Eric Adams than her predecessor, Andrew Cuomo, had with Bill de Blasio, left.Stephanie Keith for The New York TimesMs. Hochul and Mr. Adams and their staffs often speak ahead of major announcements on issues related to Covid policy. They have also been in touch about Ms. Hochul’s State of the State address this Wednesday and the policy proposals under development. And they’ve known one another for years and share more moderate views than some of their party’s left-leaning elected officials.They have both, for example, reached out to business leaders to seek their guidance on the city’s economic recovery from the pandemic.“Frankly, neither Governor Cuomo or Mayor de Blasio had a working relationship with leaders of the business community,” said Kathryn Wylde, the president of the Partnership for New York City. “This is a dramatic and most welcome reversal.”There is politicking happening behind the scenes between the two camps. With Ms. Hochul facing a contested primary, Mr. Adams is keenly aware of his political leverage: In November, Mr. Adams, who did not endorse anyone in the Democratic primaries for New York City comptroller and public advocate, said he planned to make an endorsement in the Democratic primary for governor.Among the items on Mr. Adams’s agenda are gaining long-term mayoral control of schools and a $1 billion expansion of the earned-income tax credit to help moderate and low-income families. Mr. Adams has a plan to provide universal child care and also wants federal funds to be released to the city more quickly.Ms. Hochul has also said she will work with the mayor on revisiting the state’s bail laws, with Mr. Adams suggesting that recent increases in crime are linked to changes in bail law that ended cash bail for many low-level offenses.“Hochul has great strength in a general election but needs to solidify her position in New York City to win a Democratic primary. That gives her an incentive to want to be helpful to the new mayor,” said Bruce Gyory, a Democratic strategist. “The new mayor has tremendous incentive to do very well in that first budget because the perception will have an impact on the finances of the city. They have an enlightened self-interest to work well together.”But there is also risk associated with Ms. Hochul’s and Mr. Adams’s potential alliance. State Senator Michael Gianaris, a sponsor of some bail reform measures, said efforts to change the bail law would “set the stage for a less than amicable relationship right out of the box” with the State Legislature. Mr. Adams “also needs the Legislature,” Mr. Gianaris said.Mr. Adams would have had more leverage had Letitia James not dropped out of the race for governor. Ms. James, who decided to run for re-election as the state attorney general, was Ms. Hochul’s strongest opponent, according to early polling.Getting Mr. Adams’s backing would have helped Ms. Hochul with working-class, Black and Latino voters outside of Manhattan who might otherwise have supported Ms. James.Even with Ms. James out of the race, Mr. Adams still has some leverage. Jumaane Williams, the public advocate of New York City who is running to the left of Ms. Hochul, also has a strong political base in Brooklyn, as does Mr. de Blasio, who is considering running for governor. When Mr. Williams ran against Ms. Hochul in the Democratic primary for lieutenant governor in 2018, he received almost 167,000 votes in Brooklyn, about 71,000 more than Ms. Hochul.“Tish James being out of the race takes some pressure off Hochul but doesn’t completely change the dynamic,” Mr. Gyory said. “If anything, Hochul now wants to get a larger share of the Black vote.”Jumaane Williams, the public advocate of New York City who is running for governor, has a strong base in Brooklyn, as does Mr. Adams.Anna Watts for The New York TimesMr. Williams and Mr. Adams have a cordial relationship, according to several sources familiar with both men. Though Mr. Adams, a former police officer, is considered more of a law-and-order candidate, and Mr. Williams is to the left on police reform, both are interested in holistic approaches to addressing gun violence.Mr. Williams and Mr. Adams spoke about setting up a meeting with progressives concerned about Mr. Adams’s stance on policing in the fall. In November, Mr. Williams asked Mr. Adams for his endorsement in the governor’s race.A Guide to the New York Governor’s RaceCard 1 of 6A crowded field. More

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    A New Mayor and a New Relationship Between City Hall and Albany

    Unlike their feuding predecessors, Mayor Eric Adams and Gov. Kathy Hochul appear to be getting along. They have their reasons.Good morning. It’s Monday. We’ll look at Mayor Eric Adams’s first couple of days in office. We’ll also look at another first Monday in January, one that was a milestone for the Brooklyn Bridge.Dave Sanders for The New York TimesMayor Eric Adams’s tenure is still so new it can be counted in low single digits (days) or medium double digits (hours). But the city’s problems did not take time off for the holidays. Hours after Adams took office, an off-duty police officer, sleeping in his car between shifts in Harlem, was hit by a bullet fired from a distance. Officials said it did not appear that the officer had been targeted. Nor was a suspect quickly identified. Adams went to the hospital where the officer was recovering and called gun violence “unacceptable.” (The officer was released from the hospital on Sunday.)Adams’s agenda would have been challenging without that incident or another that he witnessed in the early hours of his mayoralty — a fight on a Brooklyn street. The city’s economy was struggling to regain its footing even before the recent Omicron-driven surge raised concerns about staffing shortages beyond hospitals. “You may wait longer for a D train,” the subway system’s Twitter account cautioned on Saturday. “We’re running as much service as we can with the train crews we have available.”But with a different mayor, there is a different relationship between City Hall and Albany. Former Gov. Andrew Cuomo and former Mayor Bill de Blasio feuded constantly. Adams has a base of Black, Latino and moderate voters that Gov. Kathy Hochul wants to tap into as she runs for election to a full term. And she controls money that Adams needs to jump-start his agenda, which includes a $1 billion expansion of the earned-income tax credit to help moderate and low-income families.As my colleague Jeffery C. Mays explains, the two camps are busy politicking. With Hochul facing a contested primary, Adams is well aware that he has leverage: In November, Adams, who did not endorse anyone for comptroller or public advocate in the Democratic primary for citywide offices, said he planned to make an endorsement in the Democratic primary for governor.[Why Eric Adams and Kathy Hochul ‘Need Each Other’]Hochul has said she will work with the mayor on revisiting the state’s bail laws, with Adams suggesting that recent increases in crime could be attributed to changes in the law that ended cash bail for many low-level offenses.But State Senator Michael Gianaris, a sponsor of some bail reform measures, said efforts to change the bail law would “set the stage for a less than amicable relationship” with the State Legislature “right out of the box.”For now, there are signs of coordination. Hochul and Adams have been in touch about her State of the State address, scheduled for Wednesday, and the policy proposals she has in mind. They have also reached out to business leaders, seeking guidance on the city’s economic recovery.“They are both sensible Democrats,” said the Rev. Al Sharpton, recalling that when Hochul and Adams attended the 30th anniversary of his civil rights organization at Carnegie Hall in November, the staff did not have to worry that they would cross paths, in contrast to gatherings Cuomo and de Blasio had attended.“I don’t know if ‘like’ would be the right word,” Sharpton said, “but I think they both know they need each other.”WeatherOn a partly sunny day, expect a chance of light snow in the morning, along with wind gusts and temps in the low 30s. The evening will be mostly clear with temperatures dropping to the mid-20s.alternate-side parkingIn effect until Thursday (Three Kings’ Day).The top Metro newsMany people adapted during the pandemic in ways they say made them better and improved society. “I see time and time again that people are resilient,” said George Bonnano, a professor of clinical psychology at Columbia University. “The pandemic has shown this in spades.”In a shift in policy as Covid cases rise, Goldman Sachs told its U.S. employees, many of whom are based in Manhattan, to work from home for the first two weeks of the year.Look backOn another first Monday, a first for the Brooklyn BridgeWorkers standing on the New York tower of the Brooklyn Bridge during construction in 1872.Museum of the City of New York/Talfor/Holmes/Pach/Getty ImagesToday is the first workday of the year. Another first workday — Jan. 3, 1870, also a Monday — was the first day of construction on the Brooklyn Bridge.It did not get much attention. That milestone was the subject of exactly one paragraph in a newspaper — The Brooklyn Daily Eagle. Whoever wrote that paragraph all but pleaded with the editors for more space. The opening line said the story “deserves more than a passing notice.”What began on Jan. 3 was work to clear the waterfront where a caisson — one of the giant wooden boxes on which the towers were built and still rest — would be maneuvered into position and sunk. The Eagle predicted that Brooklynites would be able to walk across the bridge by the nation’s centennial six years later. According to David McCullough’s “The Great Bridge,” E.F. Farrington, who held the title of master mechanic among the workers building the bridge, did indeed cross in 1876, but on Aug. 25, not July 4. A “temporary footbridge” opened in February 1877 — “a sort of hanging catwalk,” McCullough called it, adding: “One reporter described proceeding along, step by step, nearly frozen with terror.”The bridge did not open to the public for another six and a half years.What we’re readingIn the fall of 2020, many states, including New York and New Jersey, released incarcerated people early in an attempt to halt the spread of the virus. We spent a year with three people as they navigated the transition from cell to home.Gothamist photographed the return of the Polar Bear Plunge in Coney Island.Predictions? ‘My heart sank.’Kam MakSo what about 2022? “I looked at the predictions, and my heart sank,” Joanna Lee told me.She and her husband Ken Smith have compiled the Pocket Chinese Almanac, in English, each year since 2010. For 2022, they chose an illustration by the Brooklyn-based artist Kam Mak, who was commissioned by the United States Postal Service to design a series of stamps celebrating the Lunar New Year. They based the day-by-day forecasts in the little volume on the calculations of a geomancer, a Hong Kong architect named Warwick Wong. He carries on a tradition he learned from his grandfather, who, in turn, learned about divining trends from his ancestors.Will 2022 be another year when we’re sick and tired of being sick and tired, to apply a famous line from the 1960s to the pandemic? Will the economic picture brighten in New York City, whose 9.4 percent unemployment rate is more than double the national percentage?Based on Wong’s interpretation of Feb. 4, the day known as “spring comes” on the lunar calendar, 2022 will be clouded by an aura of “murder in the air,” Lee said.“This is a year with lots of controversies and ‘petty people,’” Lee said, using what she said was a Confucian term for people who pursue personal advancement rather than the common good. “The body, as in ‘the world,’ will be weaker this year, compared with the previous year, hence more likely to succumb to those in power.”The pandemic “is going to be in and out, in and out, up and down, up and down,” Lee said. “We are not out of trouble, it seems.”Smith said that 2022, the Year of the Tiger, would be a year of transition. “We are leaving a 20-year period marked by speculation and volatility in fields like agriculture and real estate and entering a 20-year cycle where energy is poised to be the big thing,” he said. But it was not clear what the problems would be or where the dangers lurked, only that they would come faster. “The cycles that we’re used to over broad periods of time are going to be very tight and very quick,” he said.Metropolitan diaryHappy landingDear Diary:I was returning to New York from Los Angeles last April and was eager to get through J.F.K. and away from the crowds as quickly as possible.I hurried to the baggage claim and maneuvered my way carefully through the other travelers to get closer to the carousel. Knowing it would be a while before my bag emerged, I prepared myself mentally for the wait.When the carousel finally started up, out from the chute popped my blue carry-on, first and alone, sliding down to the edge.I was so surprised that as I ran up and grabbed it, I shouted, “This never happens!”Everyone around me burst into applause.— Connie NicholsIllustrated by Agnes Lee. Send submissions here and read more Metropolitan Diary here.Glad we could get together here. See you tomorrow. — J.B.P.S. Here’s today’s Mini Crossword and Spelling Bee. You can find all our puzzles here.Melissa Guerrero, David Poller and Olivia Parker contributed to New York Today. You can reach the team at nytoday@nytimes.com.Sign up here to get this newsletter in your inbox. More

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    Left and Center-Left Both Claim Stacey Abrams. Who’s Right?

    Ms. Abrams, the Georgia Democrat running for governor, has admirers in both wings of her party — and Republicans eager to defeat her. Her carefully calibrated strategy faces a test in 2022.To left-leaning Democrats, Stacey Abrams, who is making her second run for Georgia governor, is a superstar: a nationally recognized voting-rights champion, a symbol of her state’s changing demographics, and a political visionary who registered and mobilized tens of thousands of new voters — the kind of grass-roots organizing that progressives have long preached.“I don’t think anyone could call Stacey Abrams a moderate,” said Aimee Allison, the founder of She the People, a progressive advocacy group for women of color.Moderates would beg to differ. They see Ms. Abrams as an ally for rejecting left-wing policies that center-left Democrats have spurned, like “Medicare for all,” the Green New Deal to combat climate change and the defunding of law enforcement in response to police violence.“I don’t know that anybody in the party can say, ‘She’s one of us,’” said Matt Bennett, a founder of Third Way, the center-left group. “We can’t pretend she’s a moderate,” he added. “But the progressives can’t say she’s a progressive and not a moderate. We’re both kind of right.”The question of how to define Ms. Abrams, 48, the presumptive Democratic standard-bearer in one of the most high-profile races of 2022, takes on new urgency amid the current landscape of the party.Moderates and progressives sparred in Washington throughout 2021, frustrating a White House struggling to achieve consensus on its priorities and continuing an ideological debate that has raged in the party for years. There is also thirst for new blood across the party, considering the advanced ages of President Biden, congressional leaders, and leading progressives like Senator Bernie Sanders of Vermont and Senator Elizabeth Warren of Massachusetts.On a local level, whether Ms. Abrams maintains credibility with both Democratic wings may determine how well she can withstand Republican attacks. Those close to her campaign say they expect an extremely close race, and that the key is holding the suburban moderates who supported her in 2018 while exciting enough of the new Georgia voters who have registered since that election.Republicans in Georgia — who await Ms. Abrams in the general election — are eager to denounce her as a left-wing radical out of place in a state that was a G.O.P. stronghold until it narrowly tipped into the Democratic column in 2020. Gov. Brian Kemp, who faces a fierce primary challenge in May from former Senator David Perdue, who has the support of former President Donald J. Trump, has released five digital advertisements attacking Ms. Abrams since she announced her campaign on Dec. 1.“Stacey Abrams’ far left agenda has no place in Georgia,” one warns ominously.But a review of Ms. Abrams’s policy statements and television advertisements, and interviews with political figures who have known her for years, reveal a leader who has carefully calibrated her positions, making a point to avoid drifting into one Democratic lane or another.Her allies say the fluidity is an asset, and highlights how policy is only one way that voters choose which candidate to rally behind. Racial representation and the unique political context of the American South are also factors in whether a candidate can credibly claim progressive bona fides, they argue..css-1xzcza9{list-style-type:disc;padding-inline-start:1em;}.css-3btd0c{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:1rem;line-height:1.375rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-3btd0c{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-3btd0c strong{font-weight:600;}.css-3btd0c em{font-style:italic;}.css-1kpebx{margin:0 auto;font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.125rem;line-height:1.3125rem;color:#121212;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-1kpebx{font-family:nyt-cheltenham,georgia,’times new roman’,times,serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.375rem;line-height:1.625rem;}@media (min-width:740px){#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-1kpebx{font-size:1.6875rem;line-height:1.875rem;}}@media (min-width:740px){.css-1kpebx{font-size:1.25rem;line-height:1.4375rem;}}.css-1gtxqqv{margin-bottom:0;}.css-1g3vlj0{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:1rem;line-height:1.375rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-1g3vlj0{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-1g3vlj0 strong{font-weight:600;}.css-1g3vlj0 em{font-style:italic;}.css-1g3vlj0{margin-bottom:0;margin-top:0.25rem;}.css-19zsuqr{display:block;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}.css-12vbvwq{background-color:white;border:1px solid #e2e2e2;width:calc(100% – 40px);max-width:600px;margin:1.5rem auto 1.9rem;padding:15px;box-sizing:border-box;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-12vbvwq{padding:20px;width:100%;}}.css-12vbvwq:focus{outline:1px solid #e2e2e2;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-12vbvwq{border:none;padding:10px 0 0;border-top:2px solid #121212;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-rdoyk0{-webkit-transform:rotate(0deg);-ms-transform:rotate(0deg);transform:rotate(0deg);}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-eb027h{max-height:300px;overflow:hidden;-webkit-transition:none;transition:none;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-5gimkt:after{content:’See more’;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-6mllg9{opacity:1;}.css-qjk116{margin:0 auto;overflow:hidden;}.css-qjk116 strong{font-weight:700;}.css-qjk116 em{font-style:italic;}.css-qjk116 a{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration:underline;text-decoration:underline;text-underline-offset:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-thickness:1px;text-decoration-thickness:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#326891;text-decoration-color:#326891;}.css-qjk116 a:visited{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#326891;text-decoration-color:#326891;}.css-qjk116 a:hover{-webkit-text-decoration:none;text-decoration:none;}Steve Phillips, an early supporter and prominent progressive Democratic donor, said Ms. Abrams’s political strategy was progressive, even if her policy positions were more moderate.“It’s hard for white progressives to be too critical of someone who is so strongly and fiercely unapologetically Black and female,” he said. “Her authenticity comes from the sectors that are the core parts of the progressive base.”Ms. Abrams’s approach does carry risks. In the 2020 Democratic presidential primary race, several candidates who sought to straddle the line between moderate and progressive policies lost the trust of significant numbers of voters in both camps, as activists pushed for firm commitments on issues like health care, climate change, expanding the Supreme Court and reparations for descendants of enslaved people.At times, Ms. Abrams has used her perch to speak out against progressive causes and defend the Democratic establishment. She said attempts to defund police departments after the murder of George Floyd were creating a “false choice” and said departments should be reformed instead.On health care, she has focused on expanding Medicaid rather than supporting a single-payer system. And in 2020, a think tank founded by Ms. Abrams released a climate plan focused on the South that embraced efforts to incentivize renewable energy but stopped short of the ambitious goals pushed by progressive activists and lawmakers like Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez of New York.But Ben Jealous, a former Democratic candidate for governor of Maryland who leads the progressive group People for the American Way, said progressives should trust Ms. Abrams just the same. “The Green New Deal is designed for the industrialized unionized North,” he said. “And you’ve got to translate that into Southern.” He added, “She does that.”Several of Ms. Abrams’s allies welcomed an examination of her policy record, arguing that characterizing her as a progressive only fueled Republican attacks.Ms. Abrams declined to be interviewed for this article. Asked how she defined herself ideologically, a spokesman, Seth Bringman, said she “defines herself by her values and her ability to deliver results for the common good by navigating disparate groups and ideologies.”“She’s unwavering in her support for unions, and she worked with anti-union corporations to stop discrimination against the L.G.B.T.Q. community,” he added. “She’s unapologetically pro-choice, and she coordinated with anti-choice legislators to pass criminal justice reform. She’s a capitalist who supports regulation and believes we can fight poverty while praising success.”Such pragmatism has encouraged some moderates — including Georgians who served with Ms. Abrams in the State Capitol — to compare her to other center-left national figures who had credibility among the grass-roots base, like Presidents Barack Obama and Bill Clinton. Mr. Bennett, a co-founder of Third Way, said Ms. Abrams had demonstrated that she “wasn’t going to be pushed around by anybody in the party, from the center or from the left.”Some moderates see Ms. Abrams as a center-left leader in the mold of former Presidents Barack Obama, right, and Bill Clinton.Ruth Fremson/The New York TimesHe added, “That independence has made her a very viable candidate.”Carolyn Hugley, a Georgia state representative who has known Ms. Abrams since 2011, said she had always sought to be seen as a “doer” and an organizer. As minority leader, Ms. Abrams, a budget wonk, aligned with Tea Party members and some religious groups to oppose a Republican tax reform bill.“If you had asked me 10 years ago if voting rights was what she was going to be known for, I would probably say no,” Ms. Hugley said. In Georgia, Ms. Abrams became known for her willingness to work with anyone, even if it led to a backlash. In 2011, she lent bipartisan credibility to an effort by Gov. Nathan Deal, a Republican, to restructure the state’s scholarship program for low-income students. Several Democrats criticized her decision to stand with him at a news conference, saying it gave a gift to an incumbent who had sought to shrink the program and was an example of Ms. Abrams’s putting her own ambitions above the party’s long-term interests.“It got misinterpreted,” said DuBose Porter, a former chairman of the Georgia Democratic Party. “But the real Stacey Abrams will always come through. And that real Stacey Abrams is somebody that cares about the issues.”Mr. Jealous, of People for the American Way, said he recalled Ms. Abrams encouraging him to reach out to Newt Gingrich, the Georgia Republican and former House speaker, to build cross-aisle support for reforming the state’s prisons.This campaign cycle, even Ms. Abrams’s supporters concede that the intensifying spotlight could test her political talent anew. The prospect that she could become the first Black woman in the country to be elected governor has already renewed whispers about her possible presidential ambitions.Unlike in 2018, when Ms. Abrams was not yet a national figure, or during Mr. Biden’s vice-presidential search, in which she was considered a long shot, she enters the 2022 race as a marquee name on the Democratic roster — and a prime target for Republicans.The Virginia governor’s race offered a preview of what Ms. Abrams could face, with Democrats on the defensive and Republicans pummeling them over Mr. Biden’s vaccine mandates, how schools teach about racism and the removal of Confederate statues.Ms. Abrams rallied Virginia Democrats behind the Democratic candidate, former Gov. Terry McAuliffe, in the days before the election — a testament to her standing in the party. By contrast, Ms. Ocasio-Cortez said she and other progressives were told to stay away.When announcing her candidacy in December, Ms. Abrams stuck to local themes, highlighting her work during the pandemic and her efforts to expand Medicaid access in Georgia. In the 2018 governor’s race, she did not run an ad about race or voting rights, according to a list her aides provided.Last month, during an online campaign event with more than 350 supporters on the theme of “One Georgia,” Ms. Abrams steered clear of policy specifics and hot-button cultural conversations, focusing instead on issues like the coronavirus and education — and on her Republican opponents.“When people ask what’s the biggest difference between me and the current governor, it’s that I like Georgians,” Ms. Abrams said. “I like all of them. The ones who agree with me and the ones who do not.”As much as Democrats may want to label her, Mr. Jealous advised against it, citing two lessons he learned about Ms. Abrams when they first met as 19-year-old college activists. The first: She would not be pushed to go anywhere she was not comfortable. The second: “Never speak after her,” he said.Mr. Phillips, the Democratic donor, said he was confident that the war between moderates and progressives would not affect Ms. Abrams in 2022.When, then, would it matter?“If and when she runs for president,” he said. More

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    Will Trump Undercut a Red Wave?

    Former Senator David Perdue knows how to crash a party. When he announced that he would seek the 2022 Republican nomination for governor in Georgia, challenging the incumbent, Brian Kemp, he did more than enter a primary race. He illustrated the dangers facing the G.O.P. in the coming year.Georgia Republicans are divided over former President Donald Trump and torn between mainstream credibility and the conspiratorial fringe. Mr. Perdue — an ally of Mr. Trump — has made these divisions worse. The beneficiary? The Democrat Stacey Abrams.Republicans worry about internal strife and outlandish messages that turn off swing voters because everything else is going their way. The party did well in last month’s elections. President Biden’s low approval ratings endanger Democrats in Congress, where Republicans must net only five seats in the House and one in the Senate to seize control.Republican strength at the state level gives the party an advantage in drawing new maps of congressional districts, which will amplify their slim lead in the FiveThirtyEight estimate of the congressional generic ballot.Yet history shows how expectations can be thwarted. Republicans have experienced hopeful times before — only to have the moment pass. They believed that disapproval of President Bill Clinton’s conduct would expand their majorities in 1998. They ended up losing five House seats. They believed that Mr. Trump would rally the base to support two incumbent senators during runoffs in Georgia last January. They lost both seats and control of the Senate.Time and again, the biggest obstacle to a red wave hasn’t been the Democratic Party. It’s been the Republican Party.Republican victories in the midterms next year are far from preordained. Glenn Youngkin’s win in Virginia may be much harder to replicate elsewhere than it looked on election night. Republican leaders continue to fear Mr. Trump and his supporters, and they are divided over candidate selection, message and agenda. The result is a unique combination of external strength and internal rot: an enthusiastic and combative Republican Party that despite its best efforts may soon acquire power it has done nothing to deserve.It will be hard for the party to appeal to the suburban independents who decide elections, though Mr. Youngkin’s success suggests a path. He is the first Republican elected governor of Virginia in over a decade because of his emphasis on kitchen-table issues like rising prices and school closures. He ignored immigration, encouraged vaccination while opposing government mandates and stayed clear of Mr. Trump during the general election. He focused on parental involvement in education and planted himself firmly in the center-right of the political mainstream. When asked about a Trump rally where the Pledge of Allegiance was recited to a flag supposedly connected to the Jan. 6 riot at the U.S. Capitol, Mr. Youngkin called it “weird and wrong.” One Republican senator joked in private that Mr. Youngkin had figured out how to hold Mr. Trump’s hand — under the table and in the dark.Other candidates won’t be as skilled or as lucky as Mr. Youngkin. Republicans lost winnable Senate seats in 2010 and 2012 because of flawed nominees like Sharron Angle in Nevada, Christine O’Donnell in Delaware, Todd Akin in Missouri and Richard Mourdock in Indiana. Past may be prologue if Republicans nominate Trump allies whose record or rhetoric are questionable and extreme. Last month, one Trump-endorsed candidate for Senate, Sean Parnell of Pennsylvania, suspended his campaign after he lost a custody battle against his estranged wife. The Trump endorsees Kelly Tshibaka of Alaska and Herschel Walker of Georgia are untested on the campaign trail. In races where Mr. Trump hasn’t yet endorsed, Blake Masters of Arizona, Eric Greitens of Missouri and J.D. Vance of Ohio may secure the MAGA base by forfeiting viability in the general election.Mr. Trump remains the central figure in the G.O.P. Party elites try to ignore him as he spends many days fighting Republicans rather than Democrats and plotting his revenge against the 10 Republican House members who voted for his second impeachment, the seven Republican senators who voted to convict him and the 13 House Republicans who voted for the bipartisan infrastructure bill. Mr. Trump targets his enemies with primary challenges, calls for “audits” and “decertification” of the 2020 presidential results and howls at Mitch McConnell for not being “tough.” His imitators within the party are a font of endless infighting and controversy, and they undermine the authority of the House Republican leader, Kevin McCarthy. Mr. Trump would have it no other way.The former president was content to keep a distance in this year’s races for governor. He won’t be so quiet next year — especially if he concludes that a successful midterm is a key step to his restoration to power in 2024. A more visible and vocal Trump has the potential to help Republicans in solid red states but doom them in purple or blue ones. Yet control of the Senate hinges on the results in Nevada, Arizona, Georgia, Wisconsin, Pennsylvania and New Hampshire — states Mr. Trump lost in 2020.Mr. Youngkin showed that a positive message attuned to middle-class priorities repels Democratic attacks. If Republicans campaign on a unified message that applies conservative principles to inflation, the border, crime, education and health care, they might be able to avoid being tagged as the party of extremism, conspiracy and loyalty to Mr. Trump. Their problem is that they have no such message.Mr. McConnell has reportedly told Senate Republicans that they won’t release an agenda before the midterms. He’s worried that specific proposals are nothing but fodder for Democratic attacks. What should worry him more are rudderless Republican candidates who allow their Democratic opponents to define them negatively — and then, if they still win, take office in January 2023 with no idea what to do.In an ideal world, more Republicans would think seriously about how best to provide individuals and families with the resources necessary to flourish in today’s America. They would spend less time attacking one another and more time offering constructive approaches to inflation and dangerous streets. They would experiment with a ranked-choice primary system that played a role in Mr. Youngkin’s nomination in Virginia and in the law-and-order Democrat Eric Adams’s win in New York City’s mayor’s race. Interested Republicans would declare today that Mr. Trump won’t deter them from seeking the presidency — reminding him that renomination is not guaranteed.But that’s not the world we live in. Republicans appear either unwilling or unable to treat the former president as a figure from the past whose behavior has done the party more harm than good. They take false comfort in the idea that midterm elections are “thermostatic,” the inevitable repudiation, climatic in nature, of the governing party. They assume they will win next year without doing anything of significance. And they may be right.Matthew Continetti is a senior fellow at the American Enterprise Institute and the author of the forthcoming “The Right: The Hundred Year War for American Conservatism.”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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    ¿Qué hay detrás del giro a la derecha del gobernador de Texas?

    La efectividad de la transformación de Greg Abbott, quien ha implementado medidas cercanas a la base más conservadora del Partido Republicano, se pondrá a prueba en las elecciones del próximo año.AUSTIN, Texas — El gobernador Greg Abbott sorprendió a algunos de sus colaboradores cuando este otoño llegó a su despacho con los planes de un nuevo decreto pandémico: una prohibición para que los empleadores privados de Texas no pudieran exigir la vacunación a sus empleados.La decisión marcó una transformación dramática para el gobernador, quien ya lleva dos mandatos, un tipo de intromisión en los asuntos de las empresas que Abbott siempre ha rechazado. De hecho, solo dos meses antes se había opuesto a este tipo de medidas. “Los negocios privados no necesitan que el gobierno maneje sus negocios”, dijo una portavoz en aquel momento.Su cambio de actitud suscitó críticas de los principales grupos empresariales de Texas, desde corporaciones como American Airlines, y de un importante actor de la política republicana local, Texans for Lawsuit Reform. También provocó frustración entre algunos integrantes del personal del gobernador.Quienes han conocido a Abbott y visto su ascenso —de abogado a juez de una corte estatal a procurador general y, finalmente, a gobernador— han quedado sorprendidos con su súbita decisión de alinearse con los activistas más estridentes del Partido Republicano.Pero como un gobernador que tiene un sentido atento de los vientos políticos, en un estado en donde el dominio republicano sigue siendo total, su prohibición a los mandatos de vacunación era una forma de ser coherente con su afición por interpretar el momento. Y en este momento, incluso en un estado como Texas, donde todo gira en torno a los negocios, los intereses corporativos están fuera de lugar y los culturales están en boga.Está supervisando una auditoría de los resultados electorales de 2020 en cuatro grandes condados de Texas, un estado en donde el expresidente Donald J. Trump ganó por más de 5 puntos. Pidió y aprobó legislación que restringe a los atletas transgénero luego de que cuatro años antes parecía haberse alegrado de que no avanzaran las restricciones en los baños para las personas trans en el estado ante la oposición de los empresarios. Pasó de ordenar el uso de mascarillas el año pasado, a prohibir dichas órdenes esta primavera.Su giro a la derecha será puesto a prueba el próximo año, cuando encara a su oponente más conocido y con más financiamiento hasta el momento: Beto O’ Rourke, quien anunció su candidatura a finales del mes pasado. Su enfrentamiento hace preguntarse cuánto puede ir un gobernador de Texas hacia la derecha y mantenerse frente a una ola creciente de demócratas en las principales ciudades y suburbios del estado.La elección también es una prueba importante de la fuerza de Abbott a nivel nacional, donde a menudo se le menciona junto con otros posibles candidatos presidenciales alternativos a Trump, como el gobernador Ron DeSantis de Florida, aunque sus asesores insisten en que no está interesado. Sus ataques a O’Rourke, así como al presidente Biden, se han intensificado.Estos días, Abbott se encuentra dividido entre el enfoque conservador balanceado que le ha ganado popularidad entre los círculos empresariales de Texas y un enfoque intenso en ganar en un Partido Republicano que evoluciona, según entrevistas con muchos asesores y exasesores y más de una veintena de amigos, excolegas, funcionarios electos y estrategas políticos..css-1xzcza9{list-style-type:disc;padding-inline-start:1em;}.css-3btd0c{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:1rem;line-height:1.375rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-3btd0c{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-3btd0c strong{font-weight:600;}.css-3btd0c em{font-style:italic;}.css-1kpebx{margin:0 auto;font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.125rem;line-height:1.3125rem;color:#121212;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-1kpebx{font-family:nyt-cheltenham,georgia,’times new roman’,times,serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.375rem;line-height:1.625rem;}@media (min-width:740px){#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-1kpebx{font-size:1.6875rem;line-height:1.875rem;}}@media (min-width:740px){.css-1kpebx{font-size:1.25rem;line-height:1.4375rem;}}.css-1gtxqqv{margin-bottom:0;}.css-1g3vlj0{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:1rem;line-height:1.375rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-1g3vlj0{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-1g3vlj0 strong{font-weight:600;}.css-1g3vlj0 em{font-style:italic;}.css-1g3vlj0{margin-bottom:0;margin-top:0.25rem;}.css-19zsuqr{display:block;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}.css-12vbvwq{background-color:white;border:1px solid #e2e2e2;width:calc(100% – 40px);max-width:600px;margin:1.5rem auto 1.9rem;padding:15px;box-sizing:border-box;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-12vbvwq{padding:20px;width:100%;}}.css-12vbvwq:focus{outline:1px solid #e2e2e2;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-12vbvwq{border:none;padding:10px 0 0;border-top:2px solid #121212;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-rdoyk0{-webkit-transform:rotate(0deg);-ms-transform:rotate(0deg);transform:rotate(0deg);}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-eb027h{max-height:300px;overflow:hidden;-webkit-transition:none;transition:none;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-5gimkt:after{content:’See more’;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-6mllg9{opacity:1;}.css-qjk116{margin:0 auto;overflow:hidden;}.css-qjk116 strong{font-weight:700;}.css-qjk116 em{font-style:italic;}.css-qjk116 a{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration:underline;text-decoration:underline;text-underline-offset:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-thickness:1px;text-decoration-thickness:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#326891;text-decoration-color:#326891;}.css-qjk116 a:visited{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#326891;text-decoration-color:#326891;}.css-qjk116 a:hover{-webkit-text-decoration:none;text-decoration:none;}Su prohibición a los mandatos de vacunación no fue suficiente para los ultraconservadores que han estado exigiendo una sesión legislativa especial para reglamentar su orden. Al mismo tiempo, negocios y hospitales han avanzado en sus requerimientos de vacunación, planeados o existentes, mientras que el estado ha hecho poco o nada para que la prohibición entre en vigor, indicaron los grupos industriales.Más de 200 vidas se perdieron durante la última tormenta de invierno, que causó cortes en la electricidad en Texas en febrero,Tamir Kalifa para The New York TimesCuando Abbott postuló por primera vez a la gubernatura, en 2014, presentó un rostro más moderado al enfrentarse a la legisladora estatal demócrata Wendy Davis. Un anuncio en español mostraba a su esposa Cecilia, nieta de inmigrantes mexicanos. En otro aparecía en su silla de ruedas —está paralizado de la cintura para abajo después de un accidente en 1984— desplazándose por un mapa para mostrar cómo los negocios se iban de California a Texas.Pero mientras que los republicanos han fortalecido su control del gobierno estatal, Abbott ha enfrentado desafíos de la base de su partido. Este año, Abbott se unió al revoltoso vicegobernador, Dan Patrick, para respaldar quizás las sesiones legislativas más conservadoras en la historia de Texas.Lo ha hecho incluso a pesar de que ya disponía de fondos de campaña por casi 60 millones de dólares y el apoyo anticipado de Trump, quien a menudo llama por teléfono celular al gobernador. (Trump lo ha llamado para ejercer presión por la auditoría del voto de 2020).Ha mantenido una actitud segura y ofrecido asesoría a otros gobernadores republicanos, en especial a los que han sido electos recientemente. Al llegar la pandemia, Abbott organizó llamadas semanales con sus pares para discutir las políticas y los ha liderado a plantar oposición contra la gestión de Biden y crear un enfoque separado, estatal, de justicia penal hacia los migrantes.Y sus ataques agresivos contra Biden en temas fronterizos le han asegurado apariciones regulares en Fox News.“Greg es un conservador archi archi ultraderechista, lo cual sigue sorprendiéndome”, dijo Pearson Grimes, socio en el despacho de abogados en el que Abbott trabajó en los años ochenta después de que la caída de un árbol lo paralizó de la cintura para abajo. Grimes ayudó al futuro gobernador a encontrar un abogado para su demanda por el accidente.“Cuando lo conocí hace mucho”, dijo Grimes, “nunca hubiera imaginado que esta sería su política”.Abbott, quien lleva a cabo pocas conferencias de prensa, rechazó las solicitudes de declarar para este artículo. Renae Eze, su secretaria de prensa lo describió por correo electrónico como “un líder conservador inquebrantable” y “defensor de los derechos constitucionales y fundamentales”, un hombre impulsado por su fe en el “excepcionalismo de Texas” y la necesidad de protegerlo.El expresidente Donald Trump y el gobernador de Texas, Abbott, visitan una sección incompleta del muro fronterizo en Pharr, Texas, en junio de 2021.Eric Gay/Associated PressUna lesión que le cambió la vidaAbbott, de 63 años, nació en el pueblo de Wichita Falls, Texas, una pequeña comunidad al noroeste de Dallas, y luego se mudó a Duncanville, al sur de la ciudad. Su padre murió de un paro cardiaco cuando Abbott estaba en el bachillerato y su madre, que se dedicaba al hogar, se puso a trabajar para mantenerlo a él y a su hermano mayor, Gary, quien es conocido como Bud.Para cuando acudía a la Escuela de Derecho de Vanderbilt, Abbott ya se había casado. Conoció a su esposa en la Universidad de Texas. “Tal como lo recuerdo, en aquellos años no era especialmente político”, dijo Fred Frost, un amigo de la facultad que ahora es el asesor legal ejecutivo de ExxonMobil.Fue cuando trotaba con Frost por el acaudalado barrio de River Oaks en Houston que la vida de Abbott cambió: un roble le cayó encima con tal fuerza que aplastó un Cadillac que estaba cerca. Abbott, quien solo tenía 26 años, perdió la sensibilidad en las piernas de inmediato.Estaba dispuesto a recuperarse. Frost recuerda una noche al salir en Houston que vio a Abbott estacionar su sedán dos puertas color guinda en un restaurante, tomar su silla de ruedas, subirse de un salto y dar la vuelta al lado del pasajero para abrirle la puerta a su esposa.Abbott consiguió un acuerdo que incluye pagos por el resto de su vida, que hasta el momento ascienden a unos 8 millones de dólares. El arreglo no impidió que más tarde Abbott fuera un defensor firme de poner límites a las demandas civiles por lesiones. Cuando era un abogado joven en Houston defendió al sistema municipal de autobuses en casos personales de lesiones.Después del accidente, su silla de ruedas ha quedado entrelazada con su identidad profesional. Como gobernador, le ha permitido conectar con los demás en momentos de tragedia, dijeron sus colaboradores, como sucedió tras el tiroteo masivo de 2019 en un Walmart de El Paso que dejó a 23 personas muertas, o luego del huracán Harvey en 2017.Aún así, a pesar de su historia personal, los analistas políticos en Texas a menudo se lamentan de que Abbott carezca de la gran personalidad de sus predecesores inmediatos: Ann Richards, George W. Bush y Rick Perry.“Es un conservador con ‘c’ minúscula, es decir, cuidadoso”, dijo Robert Stein, profesor de ciencia política de la Universidad de Rice.Abbot se ha erizado ante los desafíos que se le prestan desde la derecha por parte de Don Huffines, un exsenador estatal, y por Allen West, un excongresista por Florida que lideró fugazmente el Partido Republicano de Texas. Aunque los sondeos muestran que Abbott es muy popular entre los votantes republicanos, ha parecido concentrarse en una pequeña cantidad que lo ha abandonado.Incluso antes de empezar su campaña, ya recorría el estado para reunirse con votantes republicanos y organizaba asambleas telefónicas por invitación. A menudo reserva parte de su agenda diaria para dedicar ocho horas a hacer llamadas de recaudación de fondos.El gobernador de Texas, Greg Abbott, reza después de una vigilia en El Paso después de que más de 20 personas murieran en un tiroteo masivo en un Walmart.Ivan Pierre Aguirre/EPA vía ShutterstockLa prueba del primer mandatoUna primera prueba de su liderazgo se presentó durante el primer año de Abbott como gobernador, cuando entre los círculos conservadores se originaron teorías de la conspiración de que un ejercicio militar estadounidense, conocido como Jade Helm 15, en realidad era un plan secreto para invadir Texas. Abbott quería decir algo.“La gente había estado interactuando con él por Twitter”, dijo un asesor. “Se sintió obligado a responder. Para él, esta es la gente de base que participa en la política partidaria. Son los que van y tocan puertas en tu nombre” para hacer campaña.Al final el gobernador decidió enviar a la Guardia Estatal de Texas, que forma parte del departamento militar del estado, a “monitorear” la operación.Para algunos de sus aliados fue un error. Para sus críticos demócratas, fue un momento emblemático de un gobernador que no estaba dispuesto a enfrentar a los marginales de su partido.“Abbott es simplemente un tipo que, en mi opinión, siempre está temiendo algo”, dijo Chris Turner, el líder demócrata en la Cámara de Representantes de Texas.Antes de la pandemia, Abbott había logrado unir al ala afín al empresariado del partido con el extremo más de derecha. Pero en tanto el virus dividió al estado el año pasado, Abbott enfrentó un momento crucial. En julio de 2020 emitió un mandato estatal para usar cubrebocas, una decisión que sus colaboradores dicen que tomó siguiendo su propio lema de ignorar la política y “hacer lo correcto”.A algunos conservadores no les sentó nada bien. La reacción ayudó a impulsar la energía insurgente y le dio una bandera a sus contendientes republicanos.Huffines, su opositor más vocal en las primarias, también empujó al gobernador hacia el muro fronterizo, al pedir que el estado construyera uno en mayo. Para el mes de junio Abbott ya había anunciado que tenía intención de erigir un muro.Y, días antes de que Abbott decidiera prohibir que los negocios exigieran la vacunación obligatoria, Huffines pidió al gobernador que hiciera justo eso. “Ningún texano debería perder su trabajo porque no quieren vacunarse contra la covid”, dijo Huffines en un comunicado de prensa.Abbott ha adoptado políticas idénticas a las de miembros mucho más conservadores de su partido.Callaghan O’Hare para The New York TimesEra el mismo mensaje que los asesores de Abbott dijeron que el gobernador había estado escuchando durante semanas en sus eventos por todo el estado.Cuando Abbott le comunicó a su personal que quería emitir la orden, los asesores dicen que se desató una discusión. Algunos se oponían a la medida. Luego del debate con sus colaboradores, Abbott decidió avanzar con la orden.David Carney, su asesor de campaña, dijo que Abbott quería proteger a los pequeños negocios de tener que despedir a los trabajadores por la política “torpe, incoherente” de requerir vacunación obligatoria para las empresas con 100 o más empleados, que entrará en vigor el 4 de enero y que el mes pasado Abbott desafió en una corte federal.“Esto siempre ha sido impulsado por los pequeños negocios”, dijo Carney, y no por la política republicana.J. David Goodman es el jefe del buró de Houston, que cubre Texas. Ha escrito sobre gobierno, justicia penal y el papel del financiamiento en la política para el Times desde 2012. @jdavidgoodman More

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    The Upcoming Elections That Could Shake Both Parties

    Election Day 2022 is still many months off, but already the primary season is shaping up to be a lulu. So much at stake. So many electrifying candidates — albeit some less evidently qualified than others. (Dr. Oz? Seriously?) And scads to be learned about the unsettling state of American democracy.High-profile races in two crucial swing states promise to be especially enlightening, offering a handy guide to the existential issues roiling the parties. The contrast could hardly be starker.In Pennsylvania, the Democratic fight for a Senate seat features an array of contenders slugging it out over a slew of knotty questions involving policy and ideology, progressivism, populism, centrism and how — or even if — to woo blue-collar whites in deep-purple places.In Georgia, the Republican battle for governor has been reduced to the singular, defining question looming over the whole party: Does the G.O.P. still have room for leaders who aren’t Trump-addled invertebrates?The outcomes of these contests will shake the parties well beyond the states in play.It’s tough to overstate the importance of the Pennsylvania Senate race. With Senator Pat Toomey, a Republican, retiring, the state is considered the Democrats’ best hope for picking up a seat and retaining their whip-thin majority. But there is much debate over what kind of candidate has the best shot at victory.The current front-runner is the lieutenant governor, John Fetterman. The former mayor of a busted steel town on the outskirts of Pittsburgh, Mr. Fetterman has been on the national political scene for a while as a champion of Rust Belt populism. His profile shot way up in the wake of last year’s elections, with his frequent media appearances smacking down Donald Trump’s election-fraud lies.When the lieutenant governor talks, it’s hard not to listen. Standing 6-foot-8, he is bald, hulking, goateed and tattooed. He wears work shirts and cargo shorts and radiates an anti-establishment, anti-elitist vibe that his supporters say helps him connect with the rural and blue-collar types who have abandoned the Democrats in recent years. He presents more as a guy you’d see storming the Capitol with his biker pals than a candidate espousing progressive policies like Medicare for all and criminal justice reform.He’s known as a bit of a loner, and not all of his positions play well with progressives. (For instance, he opposes an immediate ban on fracking.) But he was a Bernie backer in 2016, and he is not above poking at his party’s more conservative members. He vows that, if elected, he will not be “a Joe Manchin- or Kyrsten Sinema-type” centrist obstructing President Biden’s agenda.Such criticisms are seen as indirect slaps at Mr. Fetterman’s closest opponent in the race, Representative Conor Lamb. A Marine Corps veteran and former federal prosecutor, Mr. Lamb shocked and thrilled his party by winning a special election in 2018 in a conservative western district that went for Mr. Trump by nearly 20 points in 2016.Mr. Lamb is an unabashed moderate, and his politics and personal style are decidedly more buttoned-down than Mr. Fetterman’s — more high school principal than pro wrestler. He has expressed frustration with his party’s left flank for “advocating policies that are unworkable and extremely unpopular,” such as defunding the police. He speaks kindly of Mr. Manchin, with whom he did a fund-raiser this year. He contends that Mr. Fetterman leans too far left, and he characterizes himself as “a normal Democrat” who can appeal to working-class voters and suburban moderates alike.There are other, lesser-known Democrats in the mix, too. A state lawmaker, Malcolm Kenyatta, hails from North Philly. Young, Black, progressive and gay, with a working-poor background, he has pitched himself as the candidate to energize the party’s base voters, especially those who tend to sit out nonpresidential elections.Commissioner Val Arkoosh of Montgomery County is based in Philadelphia’s upscale, voter-rich suburbs. She leans liberal on policy and has been endorsed by Emily’s List. An obstetric anesthesiologist, she hopes to position herself as a sensible alternative to Dr. Mehmet Oz, the celebrity physician who jumped into the Republican primary contest about two weeks ago. She is also betting that the growing threat to abortion rights will help her rally suburban women, whom she sees as a natural base.Wherever this race ultimately leads, there will be lessons for other Democrats looking to compete in tough battleground areas.The Georgia primary for governor could prove even more clarifying about the state of the G.O.P. — though not in a good way. The Republican incumbent, Brian Kemp, is running for re-election. But he is high on Mr. Trump’s drop-dead list for refusing to help overturn the results of last November’s election.Desperate to see Mr. Kemp unseated, Mr. Trump lobbied former Senator David Perdue, who also lost his re-election bid last cycle, to challenge the governor. Last week, Mr. Perdue entered the race. Mr. Trump promptly endorsed him, slagging Mr. Kemp as “a very weak governor” who “can’t win because the MAGA base — which is enormous — will never vote for him.”This contest is not about Mr. Kemp’s politics or governing chops. Both he and Mr. Perdue are staunch conservatives and fierce partisans. And Mr. Perdue is not some hard-charging outsider looking to overthrow the establishment or push the party to the right or redefine conservatism in some fresh way. In his announcement video, Mr. Perdue blamed Mr. Kemp for dividing Republicans and costing them Georgia’s two Senate seats. “This isn’t personal. It’s simple,” said Mr. Perdue. “He has failed all of us and cannot win in November.”Mr. Perdue is correct that this is simple. But it is also deeply personal — for Mr. Trump. This matchup is about the former president having reduced the G.O.P. to an extension of his own ego, redefining party loyalty as blind fealty to him and his election-fraud lies. Whatever his personal aims, Mr. Perdue is just another tool in Mr. Trump’s vendetta against Republicans he sees as insufficiently servile. The race is expected to be bloody, expensive and highly divisive — all the things parties aim to avoid in a primary.The G.O.P. is already hemorrhaging Trump-skeptical, independent-minded officials at all levels. Just this month, Charlie Baker, the popular Republican governor of deep-blue Massachusetts, announced that he would not run for re-election. If Georgia Republicans take the bait and throw Mr. Kemp over for Mr. Trump’s preferred lickspittle, it will send a clear message to the party’s dwindling pockets of principle and rationality: Get out. Now. While you still have a soul.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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    For Texas Governor, Hard Right Turn Followed a Careful Rise

    Greg Abbott’s shift will face a test in next year’s election, but he has demonstrated during his career a keen sense of the political winds.AUSTIN — Gov. Greg Abbott surprised some on his staff when he arrived at his office this fall with plans for a new pandemic decree: a ban on mandated vaccinations by private employers in Texas. The decision was a stark departure for the two-term governor, an intrusion into business decisions of the sort Mr. Abbott had long opposed — and had indeed opposed just two months earlier. “Private businesses don’t need government running their business,” a spokeswoman had said then.His about-face drew criticism from major Texas business groups, from corporations like American Airlines and from a powerful player in local Republican politics, Texans for Lawsuit Reform. It also prompted frustration among some of the governor’s staff.Those who have known Mr. Abbott and watched his rise — from lawyer to state court judge to attorney general and, ultimately, to governor — have been stunned at his sudden alignment with the Republican Party’s most strident activists.But as a governor with a keen sense of the political winds, in a state where Republican domination remains complete, his ban on vaccine mandates was in keeping with his penchant for reading the moment. And at this moment, even in business-centered Texas, corporate interests are out and cultural concerns are in.He is overseeing an audit of the 2020 results in four large counties in Texas, a state that the former president, Donald J. Trump, won by more than 5 points. He called for and signed into law restrictions on transgender athletes after appearing content, four years earlier, to watch bathroom restrictions on transgender Texans fail in the face of opposition from businesses. He went from a mask mandate last year to a ban on such orders this spring.His rightward shift will be tested next year as he faces his most well-known and well-funded Democratic challenger yet, Beto O’Rourke, who announced his run late last month. Their contest raises the question of how far right a Texas governor can go and still hold on against a rising tide of Democrats in the state’s largest cities and suburbs.The election is also an important test of Mr. Abbott’s strength on the national stage, where he is frequently mentioned alongside potential non-Trump presidential candidates like Gov. Ron DeSantis of Florida, even as his aides insist he is not interested. His attacks on Mr. O’Rourke have doubled as attacks on President Biden.These days, Mr. Abbott finds himself torn between the even-keeled conservative approach that has brought him favor in Texas business circles and an intense focus on winning in the evolving Republican Party, according to interviews with many current and former advisers and more than two dozen friends, former colleagues, elected officials and political strategists.His vaccine mandate ban was not enough for ultraconservatives, who have been demanding a special legislative session to codify his order. At the same time, businesses and hospitals have largely moved forward on existing or planned vaccination requirements, and the state has done little if anything to enforce the ban, industry groups said.More than 200 lives were lost during the winter storm that caused power outages in Texas in February.Tamir Kalifa for The New York TimesWhen Mr. Abbott first ran for governor, in 2014, he presented a more moderate side when facing the Democratic state representative Wendy Davis. An ad in Spanish featured his wife, Cecilia, the granddaughter of Mexican immigrants. Another had him rolling in his wheelchair — he is paralyzed from the waist down from an accident in 1984 — across a map to show businesses leaving California for Texas.But as Republicans have strengthened their hold on state government, Mr. Abbott has seen challenges from his party’s animated base. This year, Mr. Abbott has joined with the firebrand lieutenant governor, Dan Patrick, backing perhaps the most conservative legislative sessions in Texas history..css-1xzcza9{list-style-type:disc;padding-inline-start:1em;}.css-3btd0c{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:1rem;line-height:1.375rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-3btd0c{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-3btd0c strong{font-weight:600;}.css-3btd0c em{font-style:italic;}.css-1kpebx{margin:0 auto;font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.125rem;line-height:1.3125rem;color:#121212;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-1kpebx{font-family:nyt-cheltenham,georgia,’times new roman’,times,serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.375rem;line-height:1.625rem;}@media (min-width:740px){#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-1kpebx{font-size:1.6875rem;line-height:1.875rem;}}@media (min-width:740px){.css-1kpebx{font-size:1.25rem;line-height:1.4375rem;}}.css-1gtxqqv{margin-bottom:0;}.css-1g3vlj0{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:1rem;line-height:1.375rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-1g3vlj0{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-1g3vlj0 strong{font-weight:600;}.css-1g3vlj0 em{font-style:italic;}.css-1g3vlj0{margin-bottom:0;margin-top:0.25rem;}.css-19zsuqr{display:block;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}.css-12vbvwq{background-color:white;border:1px solid #e2e2e2;width:calc(100% – 40px);max-width:600px;margin:1.5rem auto 1.9rem;padding:15px;box-sizing:border-box;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-12vbvwq{padding:20px;width:100%;}}.css-12vbvwq:focus{outline:1px solid #e2e2e2;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-12vbvwq{border:none;padding:10px 0 0;border-top:2px solid #121212;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-rdoyk0{-webkit-transform:rotate(0deg);-ms-transform:rotate(0deg);transform:rotate(0deg);}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-eb027h{max-height:300px;overflow:hidden;-webkit-transition:none;transition:none;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-5gimkt:after{content:’See more’;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-6mllg9{opacity:1;}.css-qjk116{margin:0 auto;overflow:hidden;}.css-qjk116 strong{font-weight:700;}.css-qjk116 em{font-style:italic;}.css-qjk116 a{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration:underline;text-decoration:underline;text-underline-offset:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-thickness:1px;text-decoration-thickness:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#326891;text-decoration-color:#326891;}.css-qjk116 a:visited{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#326891;text-decoration-color:#326891;}.css-qjk116 a:hover{-webkit-text-decoration:none;text-decoration:none;}He has done so even with a nearly $60 million campaign war chest and an early endorsement from Mr. Trump, who often calls the governor on his cellphone. (Mr. Trump has done so to press for the 2020 audit.)He has maintained an air of confidence and has offered guidance to fellow Republican governors, particularly those recently elected. As the pandemic hit, Mr. Abbott organized weekly calls among them to discuss policy, and he has led them in bucking the Biden administration and creating a separate, state-run criminal justice approach to migrants.And his aggressive attacks on Mr. Biden over the border have garnered him regular appearances on Fox News.“Greg is an arch, arch far-right conservative, which remains a shock to me,” said Pearson Grimes, a partner at the law firm where Mr. Abbott worked in the 1980s after a falling tree paralyzed him from the waist down. Mr. Grimes helped the future governor find a lawyer for his suit over the accident.“When I knew him long ago,” Mr. Grimes said, “I never would have dreamed that this would be his politics.”Mr. Abbott, who conducts few news conferences, declined requests to speak for this article. His press secretary, Renae Eze, described him in an email as an “unwavering conservative leader” and “defender of constitutional and fundamental rights,” a man driven by his belief in “Texas exceptionalism” and the need to protect it.Former President Donald Trump and Texas Gov. Greg Abbott visit an unfinished section of border wall in Pharr, Tx., in June.Eric Gay/Associated PressA Life-altering InjuryMr. Abbott, 63, was born in the small town of Wichita Falls, Texas, northwest of Dallas, and later moved to Duncanville, just south of the city. His father died of a heart attack while Mr. Abbott was in high school, and his mother, who had been staying at home, went to work to support him and his older brother, Gary, who goes by the nickname Bud.By the time he attended Vanderbilt Law School, Mr. Abbott was already married, having met his wife at the University of Texas. “He wasn’t particularly political as I recall in those years,” said Fred Frost, a law school friend who is now executive counsel at ExxonMobil.It was during a jog with Mr. Frost through Houston’s affluent River Oaks neighborhood that Mr. Abbott’s life changed: An oak tree crashed down on him with enough force to crush a nearby Cadillac. Mr. Abbott, who was just 26, immediately lost sensation in his legs.He was determined to rebound. Mr. Frost recalled one night out in Houston watching Mr. Abbott park his maroon two-door sedan at a restaurant, grab his wheelchair, vault himself into it and roll around to the passenger side to open the door for his wife.Mr. Abbott secured a settlement including payments for the rest of his life, so far about $8 million in total.The settlement did not stop Mr. Abbott from later becoming a strong advocate for limits to personal injury lawsuits. And as a young lawyer in Houston, he defended the city’s bus system in personal injury cases.Since his accident, his wheelchair has been intertwined with his professional identity. As governor, it has allowed him to connect in moments of tragedy, aides said, such as after the mass shooting in 2019 at a Walmart in El Paso that left 23 dead, or after Hurricane Harvey in 2017.Still, despite his personal story, Texas political observers often lament that Mr. Abbott lacks the outsized personality of his immediate predecessors, Ann Richards, George W. Bush and Rick Perry.“He’s conservative with a small ‘c’ — that is, careful,” said Robert Stein, a Rice University professor of political science.Mr. Abbott has bristled at challenges from his right by Don Huffines, a former state senator, and by Allen West, a former Florida congressman who briefly led the Republican Party of Texas. While polls show Mr. Abbott broadly popular among Republican voters, he has appeared focused on the small number who have shifted away from him.Even before his campaign began, he was crisscrossing the state to meet Republican voters and holding huge invite-only telephone town halls. He frequently blocks out his daily schedule for eight hours of fund-raising calls.Texas Governor Greg Abbott prays after a candlelight vigil in El Paso after more than 20 people were killed in a mass shooting at a Walmart.Ivan Pierre Aguirre/EPA, via ShutterstockFirst-term TestAn early test of Mr. Abbott’s leadership came during his first year as governor, as conspiracy theories grew in conservative circles that a United States military exercise, known as Jade Helm 15, was actually a secret plot to take over Texas. Mr. Abbott wanted to say something.“People had been engaging him on Twitter,” one adviser said. “He felt compelled to respond. To him, these are the grass-roots people who are engaged in the politics of the party. They’re the ones who knock on doors for you.”The governor eventually decided to direct the Texas State Guard, part of the state’s military department, to “monitor” the operation.To some of his aides, it was a mistake. For his Democratic critics, the moment was emblematic of a governor unwilling to stand up to his party’s fringe.“Abbott is just a guy who, in my opinion, he’s always afraid of something,” said Chris Turner, the Democratic leader in the Texas House.Before the pandemic, Mr. Abbott had been able to unite the business-oriented wing of the party with its right-most fringe. But as the coronavirus tore across the state last year, Mr. Abbott faced a critical moment. In July 2020, he issued a statewide mask mandate, a decision aides said he made by following his own mantra to ignore the politics and “do what’s right.”It did not go over well with some conservatives. The backlash helped spur insurgent energy and gave his Republican challengers an issue.Mr. Huffines, his most vocal primary opponent, also pushed the governor on a border wall, calling in May for the state to build one. By June, Mr. Abbott had announced his intention to construct one.And days before Mr. Abbott decided to bar businesses from mandating vaccinations, Mr. Huffines called on the governor to do just that. “No Texan should lose their job because they don’t want to get a Covid vaccine,” Mr. Huffines said in a news release.Mr. Abbott has taken up policies that are identical to much more conservative members of his party. Callaghan O’Hare for The New York TimesIt was the same message that Mr. Abbott’s aides said the governor had been hearing for weeks from everyday Texas at events across the state.When Mr. Abbott told his staff that he wanted to issue the order, a discussion followed, aides said. Some opposed the move. After a debate among staff, Mr. Abbott decided to go ahead with the order.David Carney, his campaign adviser, said Mr. Abbott wanted to protect small businesses from laying off workers because of President Biden’s “bumbling, incoherent” policy of mandating vaccinations for those with 100 or more employees, which is set to take effect Jan. 4 and which Mr. Abbott contested last month in federal court.“This always was driven by small businesses,” Mr. Carney said, and not by Republican primary politics at all. More