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      The Surprising Places Where Abortion Rights Are on the Ballot, and Winning

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      IdahoN.D.S.D.TexasOkla.Mo.Ark.La.Miss.Ala.Tenn.Ky.Ind.Wis.W.Va.S.C.Ga.Ky.Kan.Mont.Mich.OhioMo.S.D.Fla.Ariz. Before Dobbs, abortion was legal in all 50 states. In the 14 months since the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade, 15 states have enacted near-total bans () on abortion, and two states have imposed six-week limits (). But in the same time frame, the results of a series of ballot measures have revealed […] More

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      The Contagious Corruption of Ken Paxton

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      Let’s talk about leadership again. Last week, I wrote about Vivek Ramaswamy and the power of unprincipled leaders to exploit civic ignorance. This week, I want to address the power of leadership to shape character and the problem of corruption in the era of Trump. And for this discussion, we’ll turn to Texas.A very good thing is belatedly happening in the Lone Star State. Republicans are on the verge not merely of expelling one of their own from office, but of expelling someone with the most impeccable of MAGA credentials. The suspended Texas attorney general, Ken Paxton, is facing an impeachment trial in the Texas Senate, and if the early votes are any indication, it’s not going well for him. He’s already lost a number of motions to dismiss the case by margins approximating the two-thirds majority that will be necessary to convict him — and this is an upper chamber that Republicans control 19 to 12.Paxton faces impeachment in large part because seven of his top deputies blew the whistle on him in 2020, claiming that he had engaged in bribery and abuse of office. The charges against Paxton, to which he pleads not guilty, center primarily on his relationship with an investor named Nate Paul. Paxton is accused of providing favors to Paul, including using the power of his office in an attempt to stop foreclosure sales of Paul’s properties, ordering employees not to assist law enforcement investigating Paul and even providing Paul with “highly sensitive information” about an F.B.I. raid on his home.And what did Paxton get in return? Paul reportedly helped Paxton remodel his home and employed Paxton’s mistress. (Paxton’s wife, Angela Paxton, is a Republican state senator who is attending the hearings but is barred from voting on the charges against her husband.)But that’s hardly the complete list of Paxton’s misdeeds. He’s still facing criminal charges — which I’ve long considered questionable — stemming from a 2015 state indictment for securities fraud, and his treatment of the whistle-blowers is also under public scrutiny. Soon after coming forward, every whistle-blower either resigned, was fired or was placed on leave. When they sued for retaliation and improper firing, Paxton attempted to use $3.3 million in taxpayer funds to settle the lawsuit.In addition, following the 2020 election, Paxton filed one of the most outrageous lawsuits in the entire Republican effort to overturn the presidential result. He sued Georgia, Michigan, Pennsylvania and Wisconsin, seeking an order preventing those states from voting in the Electoral College. The suit was so transparently specious that Texas’ respected then-solicitor general, Kyle Hawkins — who was appointed to the post by Paxton — refused to add his name to the complaint. The Supreme Court dismissed the case without even granting it a hearing.Naturally, none of these scandals truly hurt Paxton with Texas Republican voters. He won his 2022 primary runoff against George P. Bush by 36 points. He defeated Democrat Rochelle Garza in the general election by 10 points. Texas primary voters — like Republican primary voters in many other states — decided once again that character is irrelevant so long as their candidate fights the right enemies.But that’s not the end of the story. What’s happening now is a Texas-size version of the civil war that rages across the right. Is it possible for Republicans to police their own, or does Paxton’s devotion to Donald Trump and his zealous commitment to the culture wars excuse his misconduct, however egregious? Is it possible for Republicans to potentially start the slow and painful process of healing the G.O.P.?I date my interest in the moral power of leadership back to 1998, when I was shocked that a number of my progressive friends could shrug their shoulders not just at Bill Clinton’s affair with a White House intern (though I could see their argument that his adultery was a personal matter) but also at his dishonesty under oath. The country was at peace and prosperous, they noted. Besides, weren’t Republicans hypocrites? Newt Gingrich was an adulterer. Bob Livingston, the Louisiana Republican and speaker-designate to succeed Gingrich, also confessed to extramarital affairs and stepped down.In the midst of these revelations, the Southern Baptist Convention — the nation’s largest Protestant denomination — gathered at its annual convention in Salt Lake City and tried to make the simple case to the American people that character counts. It passed a resolution on the moral character of public officials containing this memorable line: “Tolerance of serious wrong by leaders sears the conscience of the culture, spawns unrestrained immorality and lawlessness in the society, and surely results in God’s judgment.”Putting aside the words about God’s judgment, I suspect that a broad range of Americans, regardless of faith, would agree with the basic premise: Corruption is contagious.But why? Consider the relationship between leadership and our own self-interest. Most of us belong to organizations of some type, and unless we’re leading the organization, our income, our power and even our respect within the community can depend a great deal on the good will of the men and women who lead us. In very tangible ways, their character creates our path through our careers, our churches and our civic organizations.Thus, if a leader exhibits moral courage and values integrity, then the flawed people in his or her orbit will strive to be the best versions of themselves.But if a leader exhibits cruelty and dishonesty, then those same flawed people will be more apt to yield to their worst temptations. They’ll mimic the values of the people who lead them.Let me use an analogy I’ve used before: Think of a leader as setting the course of a river. It’s always easier to swim with the current. Yes, you can swim against the current for a while, but eventually you’ll exhaust yourself, and you’ll either yield to the current or leave the stream altogether.And what is the moral current of Trumpism? For Donald Trump’s supporters, tactics that would normally be utterly unacceptable on moral grounds instead become urgent priorities. In this moral calculus, Paxton’s absurd lawsuit against Georgia, Pennsylvania, Michigan and Wisconsin isn’t a mark of shame, but rather a badge of honor.Paxton’s aggressive loyalty to Trump, in other words, acts as a form of indulgence that grants him license in his personal and professional life. Paxton’s acknowledged sins, including his affair, are cheap and tawdry. Yet a constellation of Republican stars are rallying to his side, led by Trump, Donald Trump Jr., Ted Cruz and Steve Bannon. Because he’s a fighter. He goes to war against the left, and if the age of Trump teaches us anything, it’s that the current of his leadership flows eternally toward conflict and self-interest, consequences be damned.It’s hard to overstate how much this ethos contradicts the Christianity that Paxton purports to proclaim. In fact, scriptures teach that the role of the godly man or woman isn’t to yield to power, but to confront power when that power is corrupt. The mission is to swim against the cultural current. That brings me to one of the most grievous abuses of scripture during the Trump presidency — the constant comparison of Trump to King David.Trump is flawed, his supporters acknowledge. But so was David, they argue, and God blessed David. Scripture calls him a man after God’s own heart. But David’s virtues did not excuse his vices. In one of scripture’s most memorable passages, the prophet Nathan not only directly confronted the king but also declared a harsh judgment for David’s sins. And what was David’s response? Repentance. “I have sinned against the Lord,” he said. He then penned a poignant, penitent psalm. “God, create a clean heart for me,” he begs. “Do not banish me from your presence,” he pleads.Does any of that sound like Donald Trump? Does that bear any resemblance to the religious right in the age of Trump? Of course not. The contagious corruption of a broken president and a broken party has turned the hearts of millions of Christians away from scripture’s clear moral commands. They have chosen not to swim against the tide.But the battle is not lost, not entirely. In Ken Paxton’s office there were people who had the courage to confront their leader. They put their careers on the line to confront Texas’ legal king. And even if Paxton himself doesn’t have the integrity to repent and accept the consequences, there are other Republican leaders who can impose consequences themselves. They can start the process of altering the current of the Republican river, away from corruption and deception and back toward integrity and respect for the rule of law.The trial of Ken Paxton may well be the most important political trial of the year. It is in Austin that the G.O.P. directly confronts the enduring legacy of Donald Trump and asks itself, will we completely remake ourselves in his malign image? Or do we possess enough lingering moral fortitude to resist his leadership and at least begin respecting the truth once again?America needs two healthy political parties, and not just because healthy parties create better policies. Healthy parties create better leaders, and better leaders can help repair the fabric of a party, a nation and a culture that has been torn and frayed by a man who told America that the road to power was paved with mendacity, self-indulgence and conflict. Defeating Trump and his imitators is the first step onto a better path. More

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      Federal Court Again Strikes Down Alabama’s Congressional Map

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      Republicans failed to comply with a court order to create a second majority-Black district or something “close to it,” the judicial panel said.A panel of federal judges rejected Alabama’s latest congressional map on Tuesday, ruling that a new map needed to be drawn because Republican lawmakers had failed to comply with orders to create a second majority-Black district or something “close to it.”In a sharp rebuke, the judges ordered that the new map be independently drawn, taking the responsibility away from the Republican-controlled legislature while chastising state officials who “ultimately did not even nurture the ambition to provide the required remedy.”The legislature had hastily pushed through a revised map in July after a surprise Supreme Court ruling found that Alabama’s existing map violated a landmark civil rights law by undercutting the power of the state’s Black voters. The revised map, approved over the objections of Democrats, increased the percentage of Black voters in one of the state’s six majority-white congressional districts to about 40 percent, from about 30 percent.In its new ruling, the district court panel in Alabama found that the legislature had flouted its mandate.“We are not aware of any other case in which a state legislature — faced with a federal court order declaring that its electoral plan unlawfully dilutes minority votes and requiring a plan that provides an additional opportunity district — responded with a plan that the state concedes does not provide that district,” the judges wrote. Responsibility for a new map now falls to a special master, Richard Allen, a longtime Alabama lawyer who has worked under several Republican attorneys general, and a cartographer, David Ely, a demographer based in California. Both were appointed by the court. The decision — or the independent map to be produced — can be appealed. State officials have said that a new congressional map needs to be in place by early October, in order to prepare for the 2024 elections.The litigation has been closely watched in Washington and across the country, as several other states in the South face similar voting rights challenges, and control of the U.S. House of Representatives rests on a thin margin. Prominent lawmakers in Washington — including Speaker Kevin McCarthy of California and Democrats in the Congressional Black Caucus — have kept careful tabs on the redistricting effort.At least one nonpartisan political analysis has predicted that at least one Alabama district could become an election tossup with a new map, given that Black voters in Alabama tend to vote for Democratic candidates.The decision was joined by Judge Stanley Marcus, who was nominated by former President Bill Clinton; and by Judges Anna M. Manasco and Terry F. Moorer, both named to their posts by former President Donald J. Trump. (Judge Marcus typically sits on the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 11th Circuit, in Atlanta.)For Alabama, the ruling caps off nearly two years of litigation, marking yet another instance in the state’s tumultuous history where a court has forced officials to follow federal civil rights and voting laws.Two decades ago, a lawsuit forced the creation of the Seventh Congressional District, the state’s sole majority-Black district, in southwest Alabama. (Under the Republican-drawn map rejected on Tuesday, the share of Black voters in that district dropped to about 51 percent from about 55 percent.)“It’s really making sure that people who have consistently been kept at the margins or excluded as a matter of law from politics have a chance — not a guarantee — but a realistic chance of electing candidates of choice,” said Kareem Crayton, the senior director for voting and representation at the Brennan Center for Justice and a Montgomery, Ala., native. “The fact that we’re having to fight over that principle is really sad in 2023.”After the 2020 census, which began the process of setting district lines for the next decade across the country, the Alabama legislature maintained six congressional districts with a white Republican incumbent. A group of Black voters challenged the map under a landmark voting rights law, given that more than one in four residents of Alabama is Black.The Birmingham court said the map would need to be redrawn, but the Supreme Court intervened and said a new map could not be put in place so close to the primary races ahead of the 2022 election. In doing so, the Supreme Court unexpectedly affirmed the key remaining tenet of the Voting Rights Act of 1965, which bars any voting law that “results in a denial or abridgment of the right of any citizen of the United States to vote on account of race.” The court had gutted much of that landmark civil rights law a decade earlier, and many had expected a similar result with the Alabama case.But in a weeklong special session, Republicans refused to create a second majority-Black district, and shielded their six incumbents from a potentially brutal primary at a moment when the party has only a slim majority in the U.S. House of Representatives.Republicans defended their revised map, calling it a fair attempt to keep counties and communities with similar economic and geographic issues together, while adhering to the Constitution. Democrats and the Black voters who brought the challenge called it a squandered opportunity to provide equal representation to a historically disenfranchised bloc of voters.At a hearing in August, the panel of judges sharply pressed the state’s attorneys on whether the revised map had done enough to adhere to their guidance on how to address the voting rights violation, making their skepticism clear.“What I hear you saying is that the state of Alabama deliberately disregarded our instructions,” Judge Moorer said at one point. More

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      What Happens if Mitch McConnell Resigns Before His Senate Term Ends?

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      The longtime Republican leader froze up during a news conference on Wednesday in Kentucky. The second such episode in recent weeks, it stirred speculation about his future in the Senate.For the second time in a little over a month, Senator Mitch McConnell of Kentucky, the longtime Republican leader, froze up during a news conference on Wednesday, elevating concerns about his health and his ability to complete his term that ends in January 2027.At an event hosted by the Northern Kentucky Chamber of Commerce, Mr. McConnell, 81, who was elected to his seventh term in 2020, paused for about 30 seconds while responding to a reporter’s question about his re-election plans.The abrupt spell — like one at the U.S. Capitol in July — happened in front of the cameras. In March, a fall left him with a concussion. He suffered at least two other falls that were not disclosed by his office.Mr. McConnell has brushed off past questions about his health, but speculation is swirling again about what would happen in the unlikely event that he retired in the middle of his term.How would the vacancy be filled?For decades in Kentucky, the power to fill a vacancy in the U.S. Senate was reserved exclusively for the governor, regardless of whether an incumbent stepped down, died in office or was expelled from Congress.But with Gov. Andy Beshear, a Democrat, in the state’s highest office, Republican lawmakers used their legislative supermajorities to change the state law in 2021.Under the new law, a state executive committee consisting of members of the same political party as the departing incumbent senator will name three candidates the governor can choose from to fill the vacancy on a temporary basis. Then a special election would be set, and its timing would depend on when the vacancy occurs.At the time that G.O.P. lawmakers introduced the change, Mr. McConnell supported the measure. Mr. Beshear, who is up for re-election this November, vetoed the bill, but was overridden by the Legislature.Who might follow McConnell in the Senate?Several Republicans could be in the mix to fill the seat in the unlikely scenario that Mr. McConnell, the longest-serving leader in the Senate, stepped down including Daniel Cameron, the state’s attorney general; Ryan Quarles, the agricultural commissioner; Kelly Craft, a former U.N. ambassador under former President Donald Trump and Representative Andy Barr.Photographs by Jon Cherry for The New York Times; Grace Ramey/Daily News, via Associated Press and Alex Brandon/Associated Press.In a state won handily by former President Donald J. Trump, several Republicans could be in the mix should Mr. McConnell, the longest-serving leader in the Senate, step down.But replacing him with a unflagging ally of the former president could rankle Mr. McConnell, who has become a fairly sharp, if cautious, critic of Mr. Trump after the former president’s attempts to overturn the 2020 election and after the Jan. 6, 2021, attack on the U.S. Capitol.One name to watch could be Daniel Cameron, the state’s attorney general, who is challenging Mr. Beshear in the governor’s race and has been considered at times an heir apparent to Mr. McConnell.Should he lose his bid for governor — which drew an early endorsement from Mr. Trump — talk of succession could be inevitable despite his connection to the former president.Ryan Quarles, the well-liked agricultural commissioner, might also be a contender. He lost this year’s primary to Mr. Cameron in the governor’s race.Kelly Craft, a former U.N. ambassador under Mr. Trump, who finished third in that primary, has the political connections to seemingly be part of the conversation. She is married to a coal-industry billionaire, who spent millions on advertising for her primary campaign.And then there is Representative Andy Barr, who has drawn comparisons to Mr. McConnell and who described Mr. Trump’s conduct as “regrettable and irresponsible,” but voted against impeachment after the riot at the Capitol.What have McConnell and his aides said about his health?Both times that Mr. McConnell froze up in front of the cameras, his aides have said that he felt lightheaded.But his office has shared few details about what caused the episodes or about his overall health. He missed several weeks from the Senate this year while recovering from the concussion in March, which required his hospitalization.Mr. McConnell, who had polio as a child, has repeatedly played down concerns about his health and at-times frail appearance.“I’m not going anywhere,” he told reporters earlier this year.How is Congress dealing with other lawmakers’ health issues?For the current Congress, the average age in the Senate is 64 years, the second oldest in history, according to the Congressional Research Service.Senator Dianne Feinstein, a Democrat from California who is the chamber’s oldest member at 90, has faced health problems this year that have prompted growing calls for her to step down.In February, she was hospitalized with a severe case of shingles, causing encephalitis and other complications that were not publicly disclosed. She did not return to the Senate until May, when she appeared frailer than ever and disoriented.This month, she was hospitalized after a fall in her San Francisco home.Longtime senators are not the only ones in the chamber grappling with health concerns.John Fetterman, a Democrat who was Pennsylvania’s lieutenant governor, suffered a near-fatal stroke last May and went on to win one of the most competitive Senate seats in November’s midterm elections.Nick Corasaniti More

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      Appeasing Donald Trump Won’t Work

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      I’m going to begin this column with a rather unusual reading recommendation. If you’ve got an afternoon to kill and want to read 126 pages of heavily footnoted legal argument and historical analysis, I strongly recommend a law review article entitled “The Sweep and Force of Section Three.” It’s a rather dull headline for a highly provocative argument: that Donald Trump is constitutionally disqualified from holding the office of president.In the article, two respected conservative law professors, William Baude and Michael Stokes Paulsen, make the case that the text, history and tradition of Section 3 of the 14th Amendment — a post-Civil War amendment that prohibited former public officials from holding office again if they “engaged in insurrection or rebellion” or gave “aid or comfort” to those who did — all strongly point to the conclusion that Trump is ineligible for the presidency based on his actions on and related to Jan. 6, 2021. Barring a two-thirds congressional amnesty vote, Trump’s ineligibility, Baude and Paulsen argue, is as absolute as if he were too young to be president or were not a natural-born citizen of the United States.It’s a fascinating and compelling argument that only grows more compelling with each painstakingly researched page. But as I was reading it, a single, depressing thought came to my mind. Baude and Paulsen’s argument may well represent the single most rigorous and definitive explanation of Section 3 ever put to paper, yet it’s difficult to imagine, at this late date, the Supreme Court ultimately either striking Trump from the ballot or permitting state officials to do so.As powerful as Baude and Paulsen’s substantive argument is, the late date means that by the time any challenge to Trump’s eligibility might reach the Supreme Court, voters may have already started voting in the Republican primaries. Millions of votes could have been cast. The Supreme Court is already reluctant to change election procedures on the eve of an election. How eager would it be to remove a candidate from the ballot after he’s perhaps even clinched a primary?While I believe the court should intervene even if the hour is late, it’s worth remembering that it would face this decision only because of the comprehensive failure of congressional Republicans. Let me be specific. There was never any way to remove Trump from American politics through the Democratic Party alone. Ending Trump’s political career required Republican cooperation, and Republicans have shirked their constitutional duties, sometimes through sheer cowardice. They have punted their responsibilities to other branches of government or simply shrunk back in fear of the consequences.In hindsight, for example, Republican inaction after Jan. 6 boggles the mind. Rather than remove Trump from American politics by convicting him in the Senate after his second impeachment, Republicans punted their responsibilities to the American legal system. As Mitch McConnell said when he voted to acquit Trump, “We have a criminal justice system in this country.” Yet not even a successful prosecution and felony conviction — on any of the charges against him, in any of the multiple venues — can disqualify Trump from serving as president. Because of G.O.P. cowardice, our nation is genuinely facing the possibility of a president’s taking the oath of office while also appealing one or more substantial prison sentences.Republicans have also punted to the American voters, suggesting that any outstanding questions of Trump’s fitness be decided at the ballot box. It’s a recommendation with some real appeal. (In his most recent newsletter, my colleague Ross Douthat makes a powerful case that only politics can solve the problem of Donald Trump.) “Give the people what they want” is a core element of democratic politics, and if enough people “want” Trump, then who are American politicians or judges to deprive them? Yet the American founders (and the drafters of the 14th Amendment) also knew the necessity of occasionally checking the popular will, and the Constitution thus contains a host of safeguards designed to protect American democracy from majorities run amok. After all, if voting alone were sufficient to protect America from insurrectionist leaders, there would have been no need to draft or ratify Section 3.Why are Republicans in Congress punting to voters and the legal system? For many of them, the answer lies in raw fear. First, there is the simple political fear of losing a House or Senate seat. In polarized, gerrymandered America, all too many Republican politicians face political risk only from their right, and that “right” appears to be overwhelmingly populated by Trumpists.But there’s another fear as well, that imposing accountability will only escalate American political division, leading to a tit-for-tat of prosecuted or disqualified politicians. This fear is sometimes difficult to take seriously. For example, conservative podcaster Ben Shapiro raised it, arguing that “running for office now carries the legal risk of going to jail — on all sides.” Yet he had himself written an entire book calling for racketeering charges against Barack Obama.That said, the idea that vengeful MAGA Republicans might prosecute Democrats out of spite is credible enough to raise concerns outside the infotainment right. Michael McConnell, a conservative professor I admire a great deal (and one who is no fan of Donald Trump), expressed concern about the Section 3 approach to disqualifying Trump. “I worry that this approach could empower partisans to seek disqualification every time a politician supports or speaks in support of the objectives of a political riot,” he wrote, adding, “Imagine how bad actors will use this theory.”In other words, Trump abused America once, and the fear is that if we hold him accountable, he or his allies will abuse our nation again. I think Professor McConnell’s warnings are correct. Trump and his allies are already advertising their plans for revenge. But if past practice is any guide, Trump and his allies will abuse our nation whether we hold him accountable or not. The abuse is the constant reality of Trump and the movement he leads. Accountability is the variable — dependent on the courage and will of key American leaders — and only accountability has any real hope of stopping the abuse.A fundamental reality of human existence is that vice often leaves virtue with few good options. Evil men can attach catastrophic risks to virtually any course of action, however admirable. But we can and should learn lessons from history. George Washington and Abraham Lincoln, two of our greatest presidents, both faced insurrectionary movements, and their example should teach us today. When Washington faced an open revolt during the Whiskey Rebellion in 1794, he didn’t appease the rebels, instead mobilizing overwhelming force to meet the moment and end the threat.In 1861, Lincoln rejected advice to abandon Fort Sumter in South Carolina in the hope of avoiding direct confrontation with the nascent Confederate Army. Instead, he ordered the Navy to resupply the fort. The Confederates bombarded Sumter and launched the deadliest war in American history, but there was no point at which Lincoln was going to permit rebels to blackmail the United States into extinction.If you think the comparisons to the Whiskey Rebellion or the Civil War are overwrought, just consider the consequences had Trump’s plan succeeded. I have previously described Jan. 6 as “America’s near-death day” for good reason. If Mike Pence had declared Trump the victor — or even if the certification of the election had been delayed — one shudders to consider what would have happened next. We would have faced the possibility of two presidents’ being sworn in at once, with the Supreme Court (and ultimately federal law enforcement, or perhaps even the Army) being tasked with deciding which one was truly legitimate.Thankfully, the American legal system has worked well enough to knock the MAGA movement on its heels. Hundreds of Jan. 6 rioters face criminal justice. The movement’s corrupt lawyers face their own days in court. Trump is indicted in four jurisdictions. Yet all of that work can be undone — and every triumph will turn to defeat — if a disqualified president reclaims power in large part through the fear of his foes.But the story of Washington and Lincoln doesn’t stop with their decisive victories. While 10 members of the Whiskey Rebellion were tried for treason, only two were convicted, and Washington ultimately pardoned them both. On the eve of final victory, Lincoln’s second Inaugural Address contained words of grace that echo through history, “With malice toward none, with charity for all.”Victory is not incompatible with mercy, and mercy can be indispensable after victory. But while the threat remains, so must the resolve, even if it means asking the Supreme Court to intervene at the worst possible time. Let me end where I began. Read Baude and Paulsen — and not just for their compelling legal argument. Read and remember what it was like when people of character and conviction inhabited the American political class. They have given us the tools to defend the American experiment. All we need is the will.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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      When the Law Is Not a Trump Card

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      The multiplying indictments of Donald Trump, I argued a couple of weeks ago, are putting an end to all attempts to simply practice normal politics in 2024. For both his Republican primary opponents and eventually President Biden, the ongoing efforts to put a former president in prison will shape and warp and shadow every effort to make more prosaic political arguments against a Trump restoration.But there is a corollary to this point, brought home by the conjunction of this week’s Georgia indictment and an argument from two conservative legal scholars that the 14th Amendment’s third article, aimed at excluding Confederates who had betrayed oaths to the Union from political office, should apply to Trump after the events of Jan 6. If the legal challenges against Trump have the power to shape the democratic politics of 2024, the shaping power also works the other way. As extraordinary judicial proceedings alter democratic politics, the legal arena is inevitably politicized as well, undermining its claim to standing some distance outside and above democratic realities.This isn’t a judgment on the legal merits of any of the Trump indictments. It doesn’t matter how scrupulous the prosecutor, how fair-minded the judge; to try a man, four times over, whom a sizable minority of Americans believe should be the next president, is an inherently political act. And it is an especially political act when the crimes themselves are intimately connected to the political process, as they are in the two most recent indictments.The prosecutions seek to demonstrate that not even a president is above the law. But if Trump is indeed the Republican nominee, the proceedings against him will potentially end by subjecting the judicial to the political, the law to raw politics, because millions of Americans can effectively veto the findings of the juries by simply putting Trump in the White House once again. And even if they do not make that choice (I think they probably won’t), even if the polls currently overestimate Trump’s strength (I think they probably do), the entire election will still be an object lesson in the supremacy of the political, because everyone will see that the court rulings aren’t actually final, that political combat is stronger than mere law.You can see all that and still support Trump’s prosecutions as a calculated but necessary risk — in the hopes that having him lose twice, in the courts and at the ballot box, will re-establish a political taboo against his kind of postelection behavior and on the theory that this outcome is worth the risk that the whole strategy will fail completely if he wins.If you see things that way, good; you see clearly, you are acting reasonably. My concern is that not enough people do clearly see what’s risked in these kinds of proceedings, that many of Trump’s opponents still regard some form of legal action as a trump card — that with the right mix of statutory interpretation and moral righteousness, you can simply bend political reality to your will.Certainly that’s my feeling reading the argument that the 14th Amendment already disqualifies Trump from the presidency and that indeed no further legal proceedings — no trial for rebellion or treason, no finding of guilt — are necessary for state officials to simply exclude him from their ballots.The authors of this notable argument, William Baude and Michael Stokes Paulsen, are serious conservative legal scholars of the originalist persuasion, and their claims are couched in close attention to the text of the amendment and its history. Since I am not a legal scholar, the fact that I do not find these arguments remotely plausible can be partially discounted, so I would direct you first to two different critiques: one from a conservative scholar and friend of the authors, Stanford’s Michael McConnell, and one from a critic of originalism, Georgia State’s Eric Segall.McConnell suggests that to avoid giving the 14th Amendment’s provisions a dangerously anti-democratic breadth, such that all manner of normal democratic dissent and rabble-rousing could be deemed disqualifying, we should assume that they refer to a large-scale insurrection, military rebellion or explicit civil war. Applying them to a political protest-turned-riot, even a riot that disrupted the transfer of presidential power, risks a serious abuse of power — “depriving voters of the ability to elect candidates of their choice” — without adequate limitations on its use.Meanwhile, Segall questions the authors’ claim that the amendment’s provisions are “self-executing,” that they can be applied to Trump or any other supposed insurrectionist immediately. He points out that this interpretation was already rejected in 1869 by Salmon Chase, then the chief justice of the United States, one year after the amendment’s ratification in the only ruling we have on this question. This is acknowledged by Baude and Paulsen, to be sure, who argue at length that Chase was wrong. But they are still in the dubious position of claiming that theirs is the true “original” reading of the amendment, seeking some way to deal with the problem of Donald Trump a century and a half later, rather than the reading offered at the time of ratification that has stood unchallenged since.Then here is the point that I, a non-scholar, want to make (though I should note that Segall makes it as well): Even if Baude and Paulsen were deemed correct on some pure empyrean level of constitutional debate, and Salmon Chase or anyone else deemed completely wrong, their correctness would be unavailing in reality, and their prescription as a political matter would be so disastrous and toxic and self-defeating that no responsible jurist or official should consider it.The idea that the best way to deal with a demagogic populist whose entire appeal is already based on disillusionment with the established order is for state officials — in practice, state officials of the opposing political party — to begin unilaterally excluding him from their ballots on the basis of their own private judgment of crimes that he has not been successfully prosecuted for … I’m sorry, the mind reels. It should not happen, it would not work if it did happen, John Roberts and four more justices would not uphold it, and it would license political chaos to no good purpose whatsoever. And if the legal theorist’s response is that this isn’t the “best” way to deal with Trump, it’s just the way that the Constitution requires, then so much the worse for their theory of the Constitution.There is an irony here, which is that a similar kind of legal mentality influenced Trump’s campaign to overturn the results of the 2020 election. John Eastman’s argument that Mike Pence could interpose himself between the official results of the election and Joe Biden’s inauguration was a much more fanciful constitutional argument than the one that Baude and Paulsen make. But it was similar in imagining a particular interpretation of the Constitution as something that can just be deemed correct and then imposed by a particular actor — the vice president in the Eastman case, state election officials in theirs — without regard to anything that would naturally follow in the realm of the political.What would have probably followed from the Pence maneuver, as his own lawyer advised him, would have been either a swift smackdown from the courts or the vice president standing alone against both houses of the legislative branch. (This seems like one reason Eastman’s crackbrained proposal was not a rebellion under 14th Amendment definitions; if Confederate secession could have been defeated through a quick appeal to the Supreme Court, it would not have been much of a rebellion either.)But imagine, if you will, a world where Eastman had uncovered, days before Jan. 6, some piece of historical evidence that raised his theory’s status from “desperate Trumpist motivated reasoning” to “an idea that merits some academic debate.” Suppose even that a few liberal legal scholars had been forced to concede a little ground to his position. Would this in any way have changed the total political folly of the Pence maneuver, the impossibility of levering a presidential outcome from the vice president’s supervisory position, the purposeless destabilization that such a gambit would entail?I say that it would not, that where legal theory touches politics in this way it must necessarily deal with political considerations, that appeals to law and legal text alone are not enough to settle matters if political realities are against you. That is the cold knowledge that all of us watching Trump’s extraordinary indictments converge with his extraordinary campaign need to carry into 2024.BreviaryNic Rowan on Bill WattersonJustin E.H. Smith sings a ballad of Generation XJohn Duggan on Sally Rooney and CatholicismAlex Tabarrok on the acts of Saint ThomasNotes for a Susannah Black Roberts essay on the post-Christian right More

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      The Georgia Case Against Trump Is The Simplest and Most Direct

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      The best way to think about Georgia’s sprawling indictment against Donald Trump and his allies is that it is a case about lies. It’s about lying, conspiring to lie and attempting to coax, coerce and cajole others into lying. Whereas the attorney general of Michigan just brought a case narrowly focused on the alleged fake electors in her state (Trump is not a defendant in that one), and the special counsel Jack Smith brought an indictment narrowly focused on Trump’s efforts to overturn the 2020 election, the Fulton County district attorney, Fani Willis, has brought a case about the entire conspiracy, from start to finish, and targeted each person subject to her jurisdiction for each crime committed in her jurisdiction.In other words, this indictment is ambitious. But it also answers two related questions: Why bring yet another case against Trump in yet another jurisdiction? Isn’t he going to face a federal trial in Washington, D.C., for the same acts outlined in the Georgia indictment?The answers lie in the distinctions between state and federal law. Georgia law is in many ways both broader and more focused than the federal statutes at issue in Smith’s case against Trump. The breadth is evident from the racketeering charges. As Norm Eisen and Amy Lee Copeland wrote in The Times, Georgia’s racketeering statute allows prosecutors to charge, among other crimes, a number of false statement statutes as part of a generalized criminal scheme. In other words, rather than seeing each actionable lie as its own, discrete criminal act, those lies can also be aggregated into part of a larger whole: an alleged racketeering enterprise designed to alter the results of the Georgia presidential election.Yet it’s the focus of Georgia law that’s truly dangerous to Trump. The beating heart of the case is the 22 counts focused on false statements, false documents and forgery, with a particular emphasis on a key statute: Georgia Code Section 16-10-20, which prohibits false statements and writings on matters “within jurisdiction of state or political subdivisions.” The statute is a state analog to a federal law, 18 U.S.C. Section 1001, which also prohibits false statements to federal officials on matters within their jurisdiction, but the Georgia statute is even broader.Simply put, while you might be able to lie to the public in Georgia — or even lie to public officials on matters outside the scope of their duties — when you lie to state officials about important or meaningful facts in matters they directly oversee, you’re going to risk prosecution. That’s exactly what the indictment claims Trump and his confederates did, time and time again, throughout the election challenge.The most striking example is detailed in Act 113 of the indictment, which charges Trump with making a series of false statements to Georgia’s secretary of state, Brad Raffensperger, and his deputies in Trump’s notorious Jan. 2, 2021, telephone call. Most legal commentators, myself included, focused on that call because it contained a not-so-veiled threat against Raffensperger and his counsel. In recorded comments, Trump told them they faced a “big risk” of criminal prosecution because he claimed they knew about election fraud and were taking no action to stop it.Willis’s focus, by contrast, is not on the threats but rather on the lies. And when you read the list of Trump’s purported lies, they are absolutely incredible. His claims aren’t just false; they’re transparently, incandescently stupid. This was not a sophisticated effort to overturn the election. It was a shotgun blast of obvious falsehoods.Here’s where the legal nuances get rather interesting. While Willis still has to prove intent — the statute prohibits “knowingly and willfully” falsifying material facts — the evidentiary challenge is simpler than in Smith’s federal case against Trump. To meet the requirements of federal law, Smith’s charges must connect any given Trump lie to a larger criminal scheme. Willis, by contrast, merely has to prove that Trump willfully lied about important facts to a government official about a matter in that official’s jurisdiction. That’s a vastly simpler case to make.Yes, it is true that the individual lying allegations are also tied to much larger claims about a criminal conspiracy and a racketeering enterprise. But if I’m a prosecutor, I can build from that single, simple foundation: Trump lied, and those lies in and of themselves violated Georgia criminal law. Once you prove that simple case, you’ve laid the foundation for the larger racketeering claims that ratchet up Trump’s legal jeopardy. Compounding the danger to Trump, presidents don’t have the power to pardon state criminal convictions, and even Georgia’s governor doesn’t possess the direct authority to excuse Trump for his crimes.If Trump’s comments on Truth Social are any indication, he may well defend the case by arguing that the Georgia election was in fact stolen. He may again claim that the wild allegations he made to Raffensperger were true. That’s a dangerous game. The claims are so easily, provably false that the better course would probably be to argue that Trump was simply asking Raffensperger about the allegations, not asserting them as fact.But if Trump continues to assert his false claims as fact, then Willis has an ideal opportunity to argue that Trump lied then and is lying now, that he’s insulting the jury’s intelligence just as he insulted the nation’s intelligence when he made his claims in the first place.But declaring that the core of the Georgia case is simpler than the federal case does not necessarily mean that it will be easier to try. Willis chose to bring claims against 19 defendants, and she said she intended to try them together. While that decision makes some sense if you’re trying to prove the existence of a sprawling racketeering enterprise, it is also a massive logistical and legal challenge. Moreover, Trump is likely to try to move the case to federal court, which would require him to demonstrate that his actions were part of his official duties as president — a formidable task, given that he was interacting with Georgia officials in his capacity as a candidate. But if successful, it would expand the available jury pool to include more Trump-friendly areas outside Fulton County.These challenges — especially when combined with Trump’s upcoming criminal trials in Washington, D.C.; Manhattan; and Florida — make it difficult to see how Willis can bring this case to trial within the six months that she has said is her preference.For eight long years, Americans have watched Donald Trump lie. Those lies have been morally indefensible, but some may also be legally actionable. His campaigns and presidency may have been where the truth went to die. But the law lives, and the law declares that Trump cannot lie to Georgia public officials within the scope of their official duties. If Willis can prove that he and his confederates did exactly that, then she will prevail in the broadest, most consequential prosecution in modern American political history.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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      Let’s Have a Face-Off on Trump’s Indictment

      by

      The latest Trump indictment is much more complicated than the first two Trump indictments and probably any indictment that would come out of Fulton County, Ga. It attacks a scheme that played out across several weeks, in several states, involving dozens of others, including Trump-allied activists, those cited as co-conspirators and G.O.P. hacks who tried to overturn the 2020 election in state after state.I thought the best way to understand the challenges the prosecution and the defense would face before jurors and appellate judges would be to let both sides have their say — through me. Each side’s factual and legal arguments will play out in hundreds of pages of briefs and countless hours of trial testimony and oral advocacy. Let me cut to the chase, arguing the primary issues without, I hope, losing too much of the complexity of the case.Imagine two lawyers arguing their cases for you, a nonlawyer:Prosecution: Look, I know the indictment is long — and the trial may well last for weeks — but the elevator pitch is simple. Donald Trump conspired with a number of other individuals to overturn an election that he knew he lost. That scheme included a number of elements, from deliberately lying to state legislators to defraud them into altering the results to orchestrating a fake elector scheme that cast sham Electoral College votes to threatening a state official to help Trump “find” the votes necessary to change the outcome in Georgia.Defense: Sure, that all sounds compelling, but on closer examination, the case collapses. Let’s just start with the word “knew.” You’re going to present evidence that a number of administration officials and others rendered an opinion that the election was fair and that Joe Biden won. We’re going to present evidence that Trump received an avalanche of legal counsel to the contrary. He heard from lawyer after lawyer who told him that there may well have been decisive amounts of fraud in key swing states. Trump heard from two sets of lawyers who disagreed with each other, and he decided to follow the advice of one team of attorneys over the other. Following bad legal advice shouldn’t land anyone in jail.And you well know that each and every statute in your indictment requires a showing of criminal intent. For example, your most attention-grabbing count — 18 U.S.C. Section 241 — which protects the right to vote from criminal conspiracies, requires proving my client possessed “the intent to have false votes cast.” He intended for electors to cast true votes, in his favor.You also know that the viability of two other counts — obstruction of an official proceeding and conspiracy to obstruct an official proceeding — “hangs on by a thread,” in the words of Lawfare’s Saraphin Dhanani. The statute itself is poorly written and may not even apply to Trump’s conduct, and the intent requirement may be more strenuous than you believe. After all, in an appeals court ruling upholding a verdict against a Jan. 6 defendant, Judge Justin Walker wrote in his concurrence that to prove corrupt intent, you don’t just have to prove a defendant knew he was obtaining an unlawful benefit but also that obtaining that unlawful benefit was his “objective” or “purpose.”Good luck making that case. Trump’s objective was to expose fraud.Prosecution: The people you call Trump’s lawyers, we call his co-conspirators. A number of the people that you say Trump relied on weren’t providing legal counsel in good faith; they were scheming right along with him to commit crimes. And you don’t have to trust my word on that. Look at court cases and bar actions. Several of Trump’s co-conspirators have been fined by courts and now face the potential loss of their law licenses because of the advice they gave.In fact, “advice” is the wrong word. Lawyers aren’t fined and disbarred for giving good-faith legal advice. But co-conspirators are punished for breaking the law.Moreover, you might fool Trump supporters, but you won’t fool the jury. Proving intent is not nearly as difficult as you’re telling the public. Defendants lie about their intentions all the time, and juries are fully capable of seeing through those lies. We’re going to show the jury that every credible official gave Trump the same advice, and we’re going to show that Trump thought at least some of his allies’ advice was “crazy” and that he thought Mike Pence was “too honest.” Cassidy Hutchinson told the House Jan. 6 committee that Trump told his chief of staff, Mark Meadows, something like, “I don’t want people to know we lost, Mark. This is embarrassing. Figure it out. We need to figure it out. I don’t want people to know that we lost.”The man wasn’t trying to expose fraud. He was committing fraud.Defense: You believe that Trump told Pence he was too honest? Or that he said Sidney Powell’s case was crazy? Your witnesses are lying. He never said Pence was too honest.Prosecution: So you’re telling me that Trump is going to take the stand and deny those statements to the jury? And then I get to cross-examine him?Defense: I’ll get back to you on that.Prosecution: And don’t get me started on that First Amendment defense I’ve watched you make on Fox News. First-year law students learn, as a former federal prosecutor told The Times, “there is no First Amendment privilege to commit crimes just because you did it by speaking.” Look at the indictment again. We acknowledge that Trump had the right to challenge the election and to file all those absurd lawsuits. We’re not indicting him for any of that. We’re not even indicting him simply for lying. We know that politicians have lied about elections practically since the founding of this country. We’re indicting him for entering into conspiracies, and we both know there is no First Amendment privilege to conspire to cast false electoral votes. Courts have heard cases involving fraud and conspiracies against rights — including voting rights — for decades, and the First Amendment doesn’t shield proven conspirators from criminal liability.Defense: So we’re talking about court precedents now, are we? The key precedents you cite are old. The most important Supreme Court precedent involving conspiracies against rights was written by Thurgood Marshall. Let’s just say that his jurisprudence is out of fashion with the court’s conservative majority.In reality, the Supreme Court has been busy narrowing the reach of federal fraud statutes. If you haven’t read National Review’s editorial about the case, I’d urge you to read it now. Fraud statutes are designed to prevent citizens from swindling the government out of money or tangible property. The obstruction statute is designed to stop witness tampering or destruction of evidence, not to stop litigants from making bad legal arguments about election fraud. And the conspiracy-against-rights count applies a Reconstruction-era statute that was designed to, as National Review argues, “punish violent intimidation and forcible attacks” against Black Americans who tried to vote.In other words, even if you prove the facts of your case, the statutes just don’t apply.Prosecution: Yes, I’ve read the National Review editorial, but might I direct you to the former prosecutor Ken White’s comprehensive response? The bottom line is that you’re describing what you want the law to be, not what the law is. For example, your arguments about the fraud count don’t apply to the actual fraud statute we charged. Moreover, National Review’s interpretation of the law conflicts with court precedent that’s more than a century old.In 1910 the court wrote that the definition of a conspiracy to defraud the United States “is broad enough in its terms to include any conspiracy for the purpose of impairing, obstructing or defeating the lawful function of any department of government.”I know you don’t think that Section 1512, the obstruction statute, applies to this case, but the United States Court of Appeals for the D.C. Circuit upheld our broader interpretation just this April — in a case you already cited, by the way. You’re banking on the Supreme Court disagreeing with a decision rendered by a circuit court majority that included a judge who once clerked for Brett Kavanaugh.As for Section 241, which prohibits a “conspiracy against rights,” once again our interpretation of the statute is supported by generations of precedent. A review of relevant case law takes us from a series of critical cases in the 1930s to the 1974 Supreme Court opinion I talked about earlier and to a conviction this year of a man named Douglass Mackey. He engineered a scheme to deceive Hillary Clinton voters into “voting” by text message rather than casting an actual, legal ballot. His scheme wasn’t violent or forcible, but it was certainly illegal.Look, lawyers make good-faith arguments to reverse or revise precedent all the time. Sometimes those arguments succeed. But you need to tell your client that the existing case law is on my side, not yours, and if he is resting his defense on the Supreme Court coming to his aid, you might want to remind him that even the justices he appointed rejected or refused to hear his legal arguments many times before.Defense: There’s a Supreme Court case you failed to mention, McDonnell v. United States. I know it doesn’t involve the statutes at issue here, but the case shows the Roberts court’s desire to narrow broad criminal statutes. A unanimous Supreme Court threw out the conviction of the former Virginia governor Robert McDonnell on the grounds that the lower courts had construed the term “official act” too broadly in a bribery case. This is a clear indication that the Supreme Court is looking to limit, not expand, the interpretation of federal criminal statutes.Also, remember the rule of lenity? When a law is unclear or ambiguous, the benefit of the doubt goes to the defendant, not the government. And again, this is a principle embraced by justices across the ideological spectrum. This term, the court used the rule of lenity to rule in favor of a defendant in a Bank Secrecy Act case, and Justices Ketanji Brown Jackson and Neil Gorsuch were in lock step agreement. I can read the judicial signs, and the signs point toward narrowing the law.Prosecution: We’re not applying new or novel interpretations to criminal law. Every single count is supported not just by the text but also by a vast amount of precedent. You say the age of our precedent is a problem. I say it’s an advantage. The law has already been interpreted. It is already clear. There is no legal ambiguity in casting fake electoral votes or in utilizing clear threats of criminal prosecution to try to coerce state officials to change the outcome of an election.Your best legal argument rests on what the law might be. Our legal argument rests on what the law actually is. You need to disrupt American law to prevail. We simply need to persuade a conservative court to remain conservative, to follow its instincts to resist radical change.Defense: We’ve not yet begun to fight. I’ve barely scratched the surface of your proof problems. Your indictment might fool Democrats and those Never Trump traitors, but it doesn’t fool me. For example, in Paragraph 66 of the indictment, you say that “fraudulent electors convened sham proceedings” to cast “fraudulent electoral ballots” at the “direction” of Trump.But that’s a conclusory statement. Where is the actual evidence that he was in command of that process and not one of his lawyers and allies? You’re making a big, bold claim, and that’s going to require big, bold evidence. And that indictment just doesn’t deliver the goods.Prosecution: The indictment describes in detail Trump’s intimate cooperation with his co-conspirators. Are you arguing they were acting on their own? That Trump was just a bystander to the fraudulent efforts on his behalf? Trump was so involved in the effort to overturn the election that he made calls. He said Georgia’s secretary of state and legal counsel faced a “big risk” of criminal prosecution if they (as we said in our indictment) “failed to find election fraud as he demanded.” He called the Republican National Committee chairwoman to put the fake electors plan in motion. Yes, Trump had free-agent allies who tried to help him steal the election, but none of the co-conspirators were free agents. They were all his partners in crime. Besides, as you well know, this indictment is the summary of our evidence, not the sum total of our evidence. Not only do we possess the evidence sufficient to make that claim; the grand jury is still at work.I think this exercise spotlights the most important issues, for now. Both sides have barely begun to fight, and the public has barely begun to consider the full range of evidence and arguments in the case.Moreover, this piece doesn’t deal at all with the effect of the prosecution on the body politic. On Tuesday, The Times published a compelling piece by a Harvard Law School professor, Jack Goldsmith, warning of the consequences of prosecuting a former president during an election campaign.My view is that the American government faces greater risks if prosecutors don’t try to punish Trump for his coup attempt. As I wrote on the day of the indictment, it’s necessary to prosecute Trump on these facts — not because a conviction is inevitable but because our nation cannot set a precedent that presidents enjoy a zone of impunity for their misconduct that no other citizen enjoys.I wouldn’t just be comfortable bringing this case to a jury; I’d be eager to make my argument. But I’d also know that Trump’s legal team has its own defenses, and it’s far from certain that a judge or a jury will agree with the prosecution’s case. But democracies aren’t sustained without risk, and prosecuting Trump is a risk our nation needs to take.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