Presidential Election of 2020

Subterms

    More stories

    • 125 Shares189 Views

      in Elections

      What Teenagers Have Learned From a Tumultuous Time in Politics

      by

      Soon-to-be voters say they’re disillusioned by what they’ve observed, but many are also motivated to political action.A high school student in Atlanta registering to vote. What happens in politics when people are teenagers can shape their lifelong political views.Christopher Aluka Berry/ReutersFor American teenagers, their political coming of age has been a tumultuous one. They’ve seen the boundary-breaking candidacies of women and people of color, and the norm-shattering presidency of Donald Trump. They’ve lived through racial justice protests, a pandemic, and attacks on American democracy.Research shows that a voting generation is typically shaped for life by what happens politically in their teen years and early 20s. What have teenagers taken away from all this? We asked 604 of them, ages 13 to 17, from around the country, in a poll by Dynata for The New York Times. A little more than half the teenagers surveyed were girls. And nearly half were Black, Hispanic, Native American or Asian-American. (We talked to more of them because Generation Z will be the first in which nearly half of the electorate is nonwhite.)The survey revealed a generation of soon-to-be voters who felt disillusioned by government and politics, and already hardened along political lines — something political scientists said was new for people this young. But it also revealed a significant share of teenagers who felt motivated to become involved themselves, whether out of inspiration or frustration.“Simultaneously, we have this caustic, scorched-earth politics of the Trump administration, particularly for people of color, and at the same time we see young people exercising power and influence and organizing and showing up in the marches and the election,” said Valeria Sinclair-Chapman, a political scientist at Purdue. “This is their political socialization, so we have to see how it plays out.”The survey respondents were too young to vote, but they divided along similar partisan lines as adults, reflecting the divisive political atmosphere they’ve grown up absorbing. White teenagers were less likely than teenagers of color to support Mr. Biden. Biden supporters were more likely to say it was important to have women and other underrepresented groups serving in office. Eighty-seven percent of them said they hoped a woman would be elected president in their lifetime; 47 percent of Trump supporters hoped so.About half of the teenagers strongly or slightly agreed that government had their interests in mind and could help meet their needs. But less than half of girls or respondents who were Black, Hispanic, Native or Asian-American agreed, and only one-third of Trump supporters did.Their political attitudes differed significantly by gender and race. White boys were most likely to believe the government represented them. Minority girls were 21 percentage points less likely to agree that the government had their interests in mind. White boys were the only group of teenagers in which a majority could think of many people in leadership who shared their identity; just 25 percent of minority girls could.These experiences were reflected in significant gaps in political ambition: White boys were 20 percentage points more likely to be interested in running for office than boys of color; white girls were eight points more likely than girls of color.Yet despite being unconvinced that government was meeting their needs, the majority of the teenagers, and roughly equal shares of girls and boys, said they were interested in following and discussing what happens in politics and government. And various political events of the last four years were more likely to have inspired them to consider running for office someday than to have discouraged them.High school students in Odessa, Texas, standing for the Pledge of Allegiance as they watched the Jan. 20 inauguration of President Biden in government class. Surveys show teenagers are already hardening along partisan lines.Eli Hartman/Odessa American, via Associated PressThe Trump presidency had the most polarizing effects on political ambition. It made one-third of teenagers of both genders less interested in running, with a larger effect on those of color. But it also made about half of survey respondents, and nearly three-quarters of Trump-supporting teenagers, more interested in running (the rest said it didn’t influence their interest.)By comparison, the 2020 election made about two-thirds of teenagers more interested in running, and 15 percent less interested, and the effect was similar for supporters of the Republican and Democratic candidates and for boys and girls.Other research has also found that for some young people who were disappointed by the Trump presidency, it awakened their interest in political involvement, according to David Campbell and Christina Wolbrecht, both political scientists at Notre Dame.“What we found is that there was great disillusionment in democracy among adolescents, especially girls, especially those who think of themselves as Democrats,” Mr. Campbell said. “Then we found this upsurge in protest activity, so the disillusionment, rather than driving them out of politics, pushed them into political activity.”Their research also suggests that the surge of women running has been encouraging to young people — among liberals and some conservatives as well. In 2018, adolescents who lived in female congressional candidates’ districts grew more positive about American democracy, whether or not the candidates won, the research shows.“There’s no other way to explain their optimism than seeing these women run,” Professor Campbell said. “The effect is strongest among Democratic girls, but you find it among Democratic boys as well, and even Republican girls picked up on it. In fact, the only group that wasn’t inspired was Republican boys.”The teenage respondents’ views of Kamala Harris, in an open-ended question about what it meant to them that she was vice president, ranged as widely as adults’ views of her, and touched on similar themes of partisanship and identity.Several called her a socialist. Others said they felt she was picked for her identity as a woman of color, rather than for her accomplishments, and one said she was “not very likable.” Another disapproved of her policies: “Ultimately, Democrats will bankrupt the United States,” that respondent said.Still others called her an inspiration, especially those who did not see themselves in most political leaders: “I am so happy, I am mixed-race and so is she,” one wrote. “She is totally inspiring to me and I love her.”Another said, “She is my inspiration to know that women can rise to the top in government.” And a third wrote that her election sent this message: “Politics are changing and more things are possible.” More

    • 138 Shares99 Views

      in Elections

      They Believe in Ambitious Women. But They Also See the Costs.

      by

      When Sarah Hamilton was in high school, Hillary Clinton was running for president, and it made a big impression. Her candidacy made Ms. Hamilton want to become a leader someday too, she said, and maybe even run for office. Four years later, Ms. Hamilton, 21, is no longer interested in leadership. Even though it felt […] More

    • 113 Shares189 Views

      in Elections

      As Republicans Push Voting Laws, They Disagree on Strategy

      by

      Trump-friendly state lawmakers trying to enact new voting laws are facing pockets of opposition from fellow Republicans who argue that some measures go too far or would hurt the party’s own voters.John Kavanagh, a Republican state representative in Arizona, recently ran through a list of what he called “bad election bills that were introduced by Republicans.”One would have allowed the Legislature to overturn the results of a presidential election even after they had been certified. Another would have required that early ballots be dropped off only at drop boxes that are attended. A third would have repealed the state’s hugely popular permanent early voting list, which allows voters to receive a ballot in the mail for every election.All three measures were also stopped by Republicans in Arizona, even as the party pushes other bills that would enact tighter regulations on early voting in the state — just a few months after President Biden became the first Democratic presidential candidate since 1996 to carry the Southwestern battleground.This G.O.P. resistance to certain voting legislation reflects an awkward and delicate dance within the party: As state lawmakers loyal to former President Donald J. Trump try to please him and his supporters by enacting new voting limits across the country, they are facing pockets of opposition from other Republicans who argue that some of the bills go too far or would hurt their own voters.These Republicans see themselves as moderating forces on bad bills. And they are instead proposing less stringent measures that they say will improve the efficiency and security of early voting now that so many more people are using it because of changes brought about by the coronavirus pandemic. They acknowledge, however, that their timing is bad. Pushing for any bill that includes new requirements for voting after an election that went more smoothly than many expected raises an inevitable question: Why now, if not to try to thwart Democrats?The number of Republicans willing to speak out is modest compared with the many Trump-friendly lawmakers in G.O.P.-controlled state capitols who continue to validate the former president’s false claims of fraud by proposing harsh new voting measures. And even when other lawmakers in the party are successful in softening or stopping these, the outcome often remains new restrictions on voting — however small or subtle — that Democrats say are unnecessary and that are likely to disproportionately affect Black, Latino and poor voters.But there is a difference between the public perception of these new laws and bills and the reality, Republicans say. Many of the most restrictive provisions have never made it past the bill-drafting phase or a legislative committee, halted by Republican leaders who say it is counterproductive to limit forms of voting that are convenient and that people in both parties prefer. (Republicans in states like Arizona have amassed such power in state legislatures in no small part because for many years their own voters embraced voting by mail.) And some Republicans have criticized as anti-democratic efforts to empower state legislators to reject the will of voters.The Arizona State Capitol in Phoenix. A Republican bill to allow the state’s Legislature to overturn certified presidential election results was never assigned to a committee.Courtney Pedroza for The New York TimesThe latest Republican voting proposal to fall flat because of intraparty resistance was a “wet signature” requirement in Florida, which was set to be dropped from a bill that advanced out of a State Senate committee on Tuesday. The rule, which would have mandated a signature written by hand rather than a digital signature, was cut in part over concerns about its potential effect on older voters.In Arizona, Mr. Kavanagh, a committee chairman in the state House of Representatives, noted that Republicans’ bill to allow the Legislature to overturn certified presidential election results had never even been assigned to a committee.Neither was the proposed measure to repeal the permanent early voting list, which is how more than three million voters in Arizona get their ballots.Mr. Kavanagh said the list was “tremendously popular with Democrats, Republicans and independents,” and therefore made no sense to do away with.Most proposals like these — inspired by a misinformation campaign from Mr. Trump and allies like Rudolph W. Giuliani, who pressured Republican lawmakers to interfere with their state’s certification process — are dead, not just in Florida and Arizona but also in other states like Georgia, where Republicans set off a national uproar over voting rights. “But that part never got written, or was rarely covered in the newspapers,” Mr. Kavanagh said.This year in Florida, lawmakers introduced legislation to ban drop boxes, limit who can collect ballots for other voters and restrict access to people in voting lines, among other provisions. The proposals were met with swift and forceful opposition from county elections supervisors, perhaps none whose opinion carried more weight than D. Alan Hays of Lake County. Mr. Hays, a conservative Republican who had previously served in the State Senate for 12 years, told his former colleagues at a legislative hearing last month that their bill was a “travesty.”“In my role as supervisor of elections, I’m focusing on policy,” he said in an interview. “I don’t pay any attention to party. If it’s a good idea, we should give it every opportunity to succeed. And if it’s a bad idea, we should do everything we can to stop it from being implemented.”He and other supervisors worked phones and emails to explain to lawmakers the nuances of how elections are run and why some of their provisions would be impractical. This month, after the controversy over Georgia’s new voting law, the Florida House softened its version of the voting bill; the proposal that ultimately passed out of the State Senate committee on Tuesday did not include some of the most stringent original provisions, like a ban on drop boxes (the availability of which it still limits).“To their credit, the legislators have shown great appreciation and respect for our opinions,” Mr. Hays said.Republicans who want to see changes to election law that would have far less of an impact on how votes are cast say that some of the proposals introduced by pro-Trump lawmakers are not helping. And these bills are muddying the waters, they say, in areas of the law like ballot security, where there used to be more bipartisan agreement.Poll workers sorting absentee ballots in Decatur, Ga., after the state’s Senate runoff elections early this year. Some top Republican election officials in Georgia, including Gabriel Sterling, have voiced opposition to parts of the state’s new voting law.Nicole Craine for The New York TimesSome Republicans say that in less polarized times, these measures wouldn’t be attracting nearly as much controversy because even divisive issues like requiring a form of identification to vote had some bipartisan support.A 2005 bipartisan commission led by former President Jimmy Carter and James A. Baker, the former secretary of state under Ronald Reagan, recommended requiring identification for all voters, but allowed for a flexible interpretation of what that could be, like a utility bill. That report also stated what independent elections experts say is still true: that absentee ballots remain the most susceptible to fraud, though fraud is exceptionally rare. In the very few instances that fraud has been caught and prosecuted, as in North Carolina in 2018, it often involves absentee ballots.Most Republicans argue that measures are needed to safeguard and streamline absentee voting, especially because it was so prevalent last year during the pandemic — and popular with voters. In Georgia, Gabriel Sterling, a top Republican election official who bucked his party and Mr. Trump in December by denouncing claims of voter fraud as false and dangerous, said he didn’t agree with everything in the state’s new law. He took particular issue with the provisions that seem intended to punish his boss, Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger, a fellow Republican who also pushed back against Mr. Trump’s voter fraud lies, by stripping him of his voting power as a member of the State Election Board.Mr. Sterling speaking to reporters in Atlanta in November. He said that over all, he believed Georgia’s new voting law was “a boring bill.”Megan Varner/Getty ImagesBut Mr. Sterling said he believed that over all, “It is a boring bill,” adding: “It is not the end of the world.”He argued that “there was going to be a cleanup bill” to address voting given that record numbers of people voted early and by mail for the first time, creating considerable strain on local elections officials. And he pointed to local elections jurisdictions that were overextended with large numbers of signatures to match on absentee ballots.On the one hand, he said, the government can hire staff members and pay them $10 an hour to compare signatures. On the other hand, he said that requiring an I.D. number like the last four digits of the voter’s Social Security number or a driver’s license number, as Georgia now does, seemed more efficient. “You’re saying, ‘Does the number match?’” he said. “‘Does it not match?’ It’s a very simple thing.”He blamed Republicans for trying to placate Mr. Trump’s supporters by introducing bills they knew would never pass — and which, in some cases, lawmakers didn’t fully believe were good policy. They just knew it was good base politics, he said.“Essentially the leadership of the House and the Senate said to their members, ‘Introduce whatever you have to so your people are OK,’” Mr. Sterling said.That was a mistake, Mr. Sterling added, but not necessarily surprising. “There’s a lot of voters who believe the lie, and we are a representative democracy.”Patricia Mazzei More

    • 75 Shares159 Views

      in Elections

      Why Trump Is Still Their Guy

      by

      You don’t hear his name as much. But as far as the G.O.P. is concerned, the former president rules.His exile in Mar-a-Lago notwithstanding, Donald Trump’s authority over the Republican Party remains vast. You can see it in Republican reluctance to back a bipartisan inquiry into the Jan. 6 Capitol riot, in the widespread denunciation of party members who refused to overturn election results and who voted for Trump’s second impeachment, and in poll data showing continuing repudiation among loyal Republicans of the 2020 election results.Trump’s centrality guarantees that large numbers of resentful, truth-denying, conspiracy-minded, anti-democratic, overwhelmingly white voters will continue to find aid and comfort in the Republican Party.Ed Rogers, a top political aide in the Reagan White House who describes himself as “a committed Republican,” responded by email to my query about the degree of Trump’s command: “Trump is the most powerful person in the Republican Party — his endorsement can make the difference in a lot of primaries and sometimes in a general election.”Trump, Rogers continued, “would win the Republican nomination for president if the race were today. He looks unstoppable in the G.O.P. I don’t know who could challenge him.” Anyone opposing Trump for the nomination “would be mocked, mimicked and generally harassed for months. Who needs that?”Rogers captured his party’s current predicament: “For the G.O.P., Trump is like a fire, too close and you get burned, too far away and you are out in the cold.”Nikki Haley, a former South Carolina governor and Trump appointee as ambassador to the United Nations recently proved Rogers’s point.After the Jan. 6 assault on the U.S. Capitol, Haley was sharply critical of Trump, telling Tim Alberta of Politico:We need to acknowledge he let us down. He went down a path he shouldn’t have, and we shouldn’t have followed him, and we shouldn’t have listened to him. And we can’t let that ever happen again.Haley went on:Never did I think he would spiral out like this. … I don’t feel like I know who he is anymore. … The person that I worked with is not the person that I have watched since the election.But Haley, ambitious herself to be president, quickly backtracked. And just last week, at a news conference on April 12 in Orangeburg, S.C., she was asked if she would support Trump if he ran in 2024. “Yes,” she said, before pointedly adding, “I would not run if President Trump ran.”A key pillar of Trump’s strength is his success in turning the Republican Party into the explicit defender of white hegemony.As my news side colleague Peter Baker wrote in September 2020:After a summer when hundreds of thousands of people took to the streets protesting racial injustice against Black Americans, President Trump has made it clear over the last few days that, in his view, the country’s real race problem is bias against white Americans.Not in generations, Baker continued, “has a sitting president so overtly declared himself the candidate of white America.”The result, as William Saletan of State wrote earlier in April this year, is that “three months after the Jan. 6 attack on the U.S. Capitol, the Republican Party still won’t fully renounce it.”In recent weeks, Saletan continued:Republican lawmakers have belittled the attack, defended the mob that precipitated it (Sen. Ron Johnson called them “people that love this country”), voted against a resolution condemning it, or accused liberals of overreacting to it. In February, at the Conservative Political Action Conference, speakers blamed a “rigged election” for provoking the rioters. But the sickness goes deeper. The Republican base is thoroughly infected with sympathies for the insurrection.The depth of party loyalty to Trump and to the men and women who have his back has even found expression in the flow of campaign contributions.As Luke Broadwater, Catie Edmondson and Rachel Shorey of The Times reported on April 17:Republicans who were the most vocal in urging their followers to come to Washington on Jan. 6 to try to reverse President Donald J. Trump’s loss, pushing to overturn the election and stoking the grievances that prompted the deadly Capitol riot, have profited handsomely in its aftermath.Marjorie Taylor Greene, the first term Georgia Representative, perhaps the most extreme of Trump’s allies, has raised $3.2 million, they wrote, “more than the individual campaign of Representative Kevin McCarthy, the minority leader, and nearly every other member of House leadership.”What are the sources of Trump’s continued ability to not only maintain the loyalty of millions of voters, but to keep them persuaded of the conspiratorial notion that the 2020 presidential election was rigged?There is an ongoing debate among scholars and political analysts regarding the bond between Trump and his loyalists, his preternatural ability to mobilize white resentment into grievance-based social-movement action. Where does it come from?Before we delve into competing interpretations, Johanna Ray Vollhardt, a professor of psychology at Clark University, makes a crucial point:The psychology of collective victimhood among groups that were objectively targeted and harmed by collective violence and historical oppression is quite different from the psychology of grievance or imagined victimhood among dominant group members, who are driven by a sense of status loss and entitlement as well as resentment of minority groups that are viewed as a threat.Because of this difference, Vollhardt wrote by email, she would not use the word ‘victims’ to described Trump supporters: “I would perhaps simply say ‘grievances’ or ‘imagined victimhood’ to refer to the kinds of ideas that have fueled Trump’s and other right-wing White Americans’ rhetoric and appeals.”This distinction is explicit in “Resentment and Redemption: On the Mobilization of Dominant Group Victimhood,” by Stephen Reicher and Yasemin Ulusahin, both at the University of St. Andrews in Scotland, in a chapter of “The Social Psychology of Collective Victimhood.”Reicher and Ulusahin contend that “dominant group victimhood” emerges when groups experience a feelingof actual or potential loss of dominance, a sense of resentment at this loss which is bound up with issues of entitlement — the undeserving are taking what we deserve — and hence provides a moral dimension to restitutive actions, and finally the prospect of redemption — of restoring the rightful order of things — through action.These feelings of “undeserved” displacement, the authors write, “are not unmediated perceptions of reality. Rather, they are narratives offered by leaders with the aim of mobilizing people around the leader as representative and savior of the group.”To conclude, the two authors write,Our argument is not simply about victimhood as it applies to “objectively” privileged groups. It is ultimately about the toxicity of a particular construction of victimhood: One which transforms eliminationist violence into the restitution of a rightful moral order. For it is when we believe ourselves to be acting for the moral good that the most appalling acts can be committed.Other scholars point to the political manipulation of the emotions of shame and humiliation.In their March 2021 article “Populism and the Affective Politics of Humiliation Narratives,” Alexandra Homolar and Georg Löfflmann, both member of the politics and international studies department at the University of Warwick in Britain, make the case that Trump is a master of “populist humiliation discourse.”In this political and rhetorical strategy,The country of the present is described as a fundamentally weakened nation, systematically disadvantaged through “bad deals” negotiated by the establishment and exploited by allies and enemies alike. Treasured pasts of national greatness are represented through romanticized images that reduce the present to a demeaning experience.Members of the target audience, Homolar and Löfflmann continue, “are constructed as an idealized community of shared origin and destiny, the ‘pure people,’ who have been betrayed and humiliated because what is represented as their way of life and righteous place in the world has been lost.”In September 2016, Hillary Clinton’s infamous characterization of Trump voters was an open invitation to Trump’s counterattack:You know, to just be grossly generalistic, you could put half of Trump’s supporters into what I call the basket of deplorables. Right? The racist, sexist, homophobic, xenophobic, Islamaphobic — you name it. And unfortunately there are people like that. And he has lifted them up.In a Sept. 12, 2016 speech in Baltimore, Trump shot back:Hillary Clinton made these comments at one of her high-dollar fund-raisers in Wall Street. She and her wealthy donors all had a good laugh. They were laughing at the very people who pave the roads she drives on, paint the buildings she speaks in, and keep the lights on in her auditorium.In a direct play on the humiliation theme, Trump declared:She spoke with contempt for the people who thanklessly follow the rules, pay their taxes, and scratch out a living for their families. She revealed herself to be a person who looks down on the proud citizens of our country as subjects for her to rule over.In a separate article, “The power of Trump-speak: populist crisis narratives and ontological security,” Homolar and Ronny Scholz, a project manager at the University of Warwick’s center for applied linguistics, argued that Trump’s “leadership legitimation claims rest significantly upon ‘crisis talk’ that puts his audience in a loss frame with nothing to lose.” These stories serve a twofold purpose, instilling “insecurity among the American public” while simultaneously transforming “their anxiety into confidence that the narrator’s policy agendas are the route back to ‘normality.’ ”The authors studied Trump’s 2016 campaign speeches to identify the words he used most often, and then grouped them “together with the words with which they predominantly co-occur.” They demonstrate that the word clusters Trump habitually deployed “surrounding ‘American’ and ‘country’ centrally featured the interrelated themes of crime and violence, killing jobs, and poverty, as well as illegal immigration and drugs, Islamic terrorism, trade and infrastructure.”At the heart of what the authors call “Trump-speak” is apolitics of reassurance, which relies upon a threefold rhetorical strategy: it tells audiences what is wrong with the current state of affairs; it identifies the political agents that are responsible for putting individuals and the country in a state of loss and crisis; and it offers an abstract pathway through which people can restore past greatness by opting for a high-risk outsider candidate.Once an audience is under Trump’s spell, Homolar and Scholz write:Rational arguments or detailed policy proposals pale in comparison with the emotive pull and self-affirmation of an us-versus-them crisis narrative, which creates a cognitive feedback loop between individuals’ ontological insecurity, their preferences for restorative policy, and strongmen candidate options. In short, “Trumpspeak” relies on creating the very ontological insecurity that it promises to eradicate for political gain.The authors describe “ontological security” as “having a sense of presence in the world, describing such a person as a ‘real, alive, whole, and, in a temporal sense, a continuous person,’ ” citing R.D. Laing, the author of “The Divided Self.” Being ontologically secure, they continue, “allows us to ‘encounter all the hazards of life, social, ethical, spiritual, biological’ with a firm sense of both our own and others’ reality and identity. However, ontological security only prevails in the absence of anxiety and danger.”Miles T. Armaly and Adam M. Enders, political scientists at the University of Mississippi and the University of Louisville, argue that Trump appeals to voters experiencing what they call “egocentric victimhood” as opposed to those who see themselves as “systemic” victims.In their January 2021 paper, “‘Why Me?’ The Role of Perceived Victimhood in American Politics,” Armaly and Enders argue that:A systemic victim looks externally to understand her individual victimhood. Egocentric victimhood, on the other hand, is less outwardly focused. Egocentric victims feel that they never get what they deserve in life, never get an extra break, and are always settling for less. Neither the ‘oppressor,’ nor the attribution of blame, are very specific. Both expressions of victimhood require some level of entitlement, but egocentric victims feel particularly strongly that they, personally, have a harder go at life than others.There were substantial differences between the way these two groups voted, according to Armaly and Enders:Those exhibiting higher levels of egocentric victimhood are more likely to have voted for, and continue to support, Donald Trump. However, those who exhibit systemic victimhood are less supportive and were less likely to vote for Trump.The same pattern emerged in the case of racial resentment and support for or opposition to government aid to African-Americans, for building a wall on the Mexican border and for political correctness: egocentric victims, the authors report, tilted strongly in a conservative direction, systemic victims in a liberal direction.In an effort to better understand how competing left and right strategies differ, I asked Kevin Arceneaux, a political scientist at Temple, a series of questions. The first was:How would you describe the differences between the mobilizing strategies of the civil rights movement and Trump’s appeals to discontented whites? Arceneaux’s answer:The civil rights movement was about mobilizing an oppressed minority to fight for their rights, against the likelihood of state-sanctioned violence, while Trump’s appeals are about harnessing the power of the state to maintain white dominance. Trump’s appeals to discontented whites are reactionary in nature. They promise to go back to a time when whites were unquestionably at the top of the social hierarchy. These appeals are about keying into anger and fear, as opposed to hope, and they are about moving backward and not forward.What role has the sense of victimhood played in the delusional character of so many Trump supporters who continue to believe the election was stolen? Arceneaux again:Their sense of victimhood motivates the very idea that some evil force could be so powerful that it can successfully collude to steal an election. It fits the narrative that everyone is out to get them.Looking toward the elections of 2022 and 2024, Trump not only remains at the heart of the Republican Party, he embodies the party’s predicament: candidates running for House and Senate need him to turn out the party’s populist base, but his presence at the top of the ticket could put Congress and the White House out of reach.Still, Arceneaux argues that without Trump, “I do believe that the Republicans will struggle to turn out non-college educated whites at the same rate.”Ed Goeas, a Republican pollster, observes that turning out working class voters in 2024 will most likely not be enough for Trump to win: “There are a large number of Republican voters (around 40 percent), who were either reluctant Trump voters or non-supportive voters, who make a Trump win in the general election look very undoable.”Ed Rogers, the Republican lobbyist I mentioned at the beginning of this column, argues that if Trump runs in 2024 — despite the clout he wields today — he is liable to take the party down to defeat:I don’t think Trump can win a two person race in a general election. He can’t get a majority. He pulled a rabbit out of the hat in 2016 and he got beat bad by an uninspiring candidate in 2020. 2024 is a long way away but I don’t know what might happen to make Trump have broader appeal or more advantages than he did in 2020.Stuart Stevens, a Republican media consultant who is a harsh critic of Trump, emailed me to say that “Trump is the Republican Party” and as a result:We are in uncharted waters. For the first time since 1860, a major American political party doesn’t believe America is a democracy. No Republican will win a contested primary in 2022 or 2024 who will assert that Biden is a legal president. The effect of this is profound and difficult to predict. But millions of Americans believe the American experiment is ending.What is driving the Republican Party? Stevens’s answer is that is the threat of a nonwhite majority:The coordinated effort to reduce voter access for those who are nonwhite is because Republicans know they are racing the demographic clock. The degree to which they are successful will determine if a Republican has a shot to win. It’s all about white grievance.Paul Begala, a Democratic consultant, described what may be Trump’s most lasting imprint on his party:Many prospective presidential candidates, including Josh Hawley, Kristi Noem, Ted Cruz, Ron DeSantis, “seem to me to be embracing the growing nativist, anti-immigrant, anti-diversity fire Trump lit.”In the 28 years since the 1992 election, Begala continued by email, there has been “more diminution in white voting power than in the previous 208 years” dating back to the nation’s first presidential election.For the Republican Party, Begala wrote, “as white power diminishes, white supremacy intensifies.”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

    • 113 Shares149 Views

      in Elections

      8 Podcasts to Help Make Sense of Post-Trump America

      by

      In the wake of a most untraditional presidency, these shows will keep you up-to-date on what’s happening in Washington and our politically polarized country.A couple of years after Serial sped up podcasting’s move into the mainstream, Donald J. Trump’s election as president changed the game in a different way. It spawned a plethora of audio shows that promised to help Americans process an unexpected and unsettling time. And though Trump is now out of office, there’s still no shortage of political news to try and make sense of: the repercussions of the attack on the Capitol, the continued polarization of the electorate, and the new and ongoing challenges facing his successor, President Biden.These eight shows will keep you up-to-date on what’s happening in Washington, provide context for current events and (maybe) keep you sane along the way.‘Can He Do That?’This Washington Post show was one of the countless podcasts born in the early days of the Trump presidency, when civilians and political experts were regularly stunned by the audacity of the administration’s conduct. As its title suggests, the show’s original remit was digging into the legality of the 45th president’s actions while in office. But in the four years since its debut, the show has evolved into a broader exploration of the executive branch, and how its powers both shape, and are shaped by, the divided electorate of modern America. Since Trump left office, the host, Allison Michaels, and her guests have tackled specific topics like the latest stimulus bill, while also exploring bigger questions — for instance, whether gun reform is actually within the president’s power, or what responsibilities the president has during a national crisis.Starter episode: “The Duty of a President During Crisis”‘U.T.R.’ (Not Its Real Name)If you like your political commentary cynical but not embittered, this relatively new podcast may hit the spot. Beginning in the run-up to the 2020 election, “Unf*cking the Republic” delivers audio essays that are consistently compelling and educational, aiming to challenge conventional wisdom and upend the historical narratives that we’re taught in school. The host, a “quasi-anonymous political writer,” according to the podcast’s synopsis, approaches the show with a playful and often coarse tone that never undermines the rigorous, serious content of its episodes. A recent episode, titled “The American Holocaust,” offered an unflinching discussion of America’s sins against Indigenous nations, or “the most horrific acts the U.S. has ever perpetrated on a people — which is saying a lot.” If the show is sometimes uncomfortable listening, that’s the point.Starter episode: “Culture Cancel: The American Holocaust”‘Political Gabfest’A beloved mainstay for many podcast fans, Slate’s weekly conversational show is roughly the same age as the format itself, having been going strong since 2005. The hosts, Emily Bazelon, John Dickerson and David Plotz, break down the latest announcements, leaks and scandals from Washington in an approachable style that feels less like a news report and more like eavesdropping on a smart conversation between friends (all of whom happen to be veteran D.C. reporters). The show’s format has barely changed over its 16-year run, and that comforting consistency has made it an anchor through especially turbulent times.Starter episode: “Midnight Train From Georgia”‘Pantsuit Politics’It’s become common to lament how polarized our political climate has become, and despite President Biden’s professed desire for bipartisanship, the divisions seem as deep as ever in 2021. They’re so deep that any attempt to reach across the aisle is often derided as either naïve or disingenuous, but the hosts of “Pantsuit Politics” are determined to prove that genuine conversations between the left and the right are still possible. Sarah Stewart Holland (on the left) and Beth Silvers (on the right) are Kentucky-based friends who hail from opposite ends of the political spectrum, co-wrote a book entitled “I Think You’re Wrong (But I’m Listening),” and now share down-to-earth conversations on this twice-a-week podcast. Though the hosts’ views are often more similar than this premise suggests, it’s compelling and thoughtful listening.Starter episode: “We’re All Strange Combinations of Things”‘The Weeds’Playfully inverting a well-worn adage (“don’t get lost in the weeds”), this Vox staple thrives on delving into the nitty-gritty of policy and the processes through which it’s created. Hosted by Matthew Yglesias and Dara Lind, alongside a revolving cast of other Vox staffers, “The Weeds” offers a twice-a-week examination of what’s happening in the corridors of power. The main feed sometimes includes limited spinoffs, like “The Next Four Years,” a three-month primer on the new administration’s cabinet appointments and policy plans. More recently, the show has offered detailed but accessible explainers on what the Biden era means for housing, voting rights and immigration policy.Starter episode: “It’s Time for Class Warfare”‘The Skepticrat’Though its scathing tone might sound like a product of the Trump years, this salty-mouthed political comedy has actually been running since 2015. Its hosts — Noah Lugeons, Heath Enwright, and Eli Bosnick — are perhaps better known for their long-running podcast “The Scathing Atheist,” an unapologetically savage and derisive discussion about religion. Here they take a similarly irreverent approach to politics, spotlighting hypocrisy, corruption and incompetence in government while also taking joy in purely ludicrous moments like Rudy Giuliani’s melting face.Starter episode: “Jewish Space Laser Edition”‘Pod Save America’Perhaps the podcast that best defines Trump-era resistance podcasting, “Pod Save America” is the flagship show of Crooked Media, a left-wing podcast empire founded in 2017 by four former Obama staffers, Jon Favreau, Jon Lovett, Tommy Vietor and Dan Pfeiffer. In twice-weekly episodes, the hosts riff on the latest political news and offer anecdotes and insights from their own time in Washington. Throughout the Trump years, the show was a mix of righteous anger and gallows humor, while also becoming a powerhouse for grass roots activism and fund-raising. The show also features plenty of big-fish guests, like Joe Biden, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Barack Obama, who memorably recorded an interview on the eve of Trump’s inauguration.Starter episode: “Are We Infrastructure?”‘Left, Right & Center’Finding a truly centrist political podcast is hard, and this polarization makes it easy for listeners to stay in their echo chambers. Though it’s been on the air since 1996, KCRW’s “Left, Right & Center” is a timely antidote to this dilemma. Each episode of the show spotlights a “civilized yet provocative” conversation about current events between liberal and conservative commentators. The host, Josh Barro, affably represents the center, alongside a cast of regular panelists that include senators, policy experts and journalists (recently including The New York Times’s Jamelle Bouie). Depending on the rapport between guests, the show can err on the dry side, but it’s a reliable balm in a polarized age.Starter episode: “Carrots Over Sticks” More

    • 138 Shares169 Views

      in Elections

      Were Brendan Hunt's Social Media Rants Free Speech or Illegal Threats?

      by

      The trial of Brendan Hunt, an avid Trump backer and New York City resident, will be one of the justice system’s first attempts to grapple with the events of Jan. 6.Two days after the attack on the U.S. Capitol, a 37-year-old man living in New York City posted a video online entitled “KILL YOUR SENATORS.”The man, Brendan Hunt, was not in Washington on Jan. 6. But in the 88-second video, he said that “we need to go back to the U.S. Capitol” ahead of President Biden’s inauguration and “slaughter” members of Congress, according to the criminal complaint.“If anybody has a gun, give me it,” he said. “I’ll go there myself and shoot them and kill them.”Now, the question of whether the video and three other social media posts by Mr. Hunt crossed the line from free speech into illegal threats is at the heart of a federal trial starting this week in Brooklyn.Brendan Hunt in a picture from his BitChute account.This is the first federal trial in the country that will force jurors to grapple deeply with the events of Jan. 6, diving headfirst into the national debate about how much the government should police violent rhetoric in the wake of the Capitol attack.Mr. Hunt became part of the Capitol breach’s sprawling aftermath as law enforcement officials not only arrested hundreds of rioters who stormed the Capitol but also charged people with making online threats around the attack. As officials in Washington consider new ways to combat violent extremism, including a possible domestic terrorism statute, Mr. Hunt’s trial could be a bellwether of how the authorities balance the pursuit of serious threats with constitutional protections for political speech.“These types of threats are particularly dangerous when made in a charged political environment that has already led to the overrunning of the United States Capitol and the interruption, for the first time in United States history, of the certification of a presidential election,” federal prosecutors in Brooklyn said in a court filing last month.Mr. Hunt faces one count of threatening to murder members of Congress, which carries a maximum sentence of 10 years in prison. In December, Mr. Hunt posted on Facebook urging a “public execution” of prominent Democratic politicians, including the House speaker, Nancy Pelosi, Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Senator Chuck Schumer, according to prosecutors.Mr. Hunt’s lawyers have described the case as a groundbreaking prosecution, arguing that the government was trying to criminalize Mr. Hunt’s political opinions. Mr. Hunt had no weapons, no plans to carry out violence and no affiliations with organized groups, his lawyers said. He was ranting into the vast internet void, they argue, with no expectation that anyone would act on his words.“Seen in context, the posts are more consistent with intoxication than insurrection,” his lawyers wrote.Jan Rostal, a federal defender for Mr. Hunt, said in a statement that the First Amendment encouraged political debate “in the town square, not in secret, so bad ideas can get tested.”“This case could have serious implications for freedom of speech on social media,” Ms. Rostal said.Although Mr. Hunt had been posting menacing statements on social media since early December, he was not arrested until Jan. 19, the day before Mr. Biden’s inauguration. Mr. Hunt has been in jail since his arrest.The trial will wade into an unsettled area of law that has become especially urgent with the explosion of incendiary political speech in recent years. One of the central disputes at Mr. Hunt’s trial will be whether a “reasonable person” would have viewed his social media posts as a serious threat to kill members of Congress.“The courts have said we’ve got to leave a lot of room for dissent, including dissent that’s raised in violent terms,” said Eugene Volokh, a law professor at the University of California, Los Angeles. “But how much room is a very important question.”To convict Mr. Hunt, prosecutors must prove that he was not just joking or exaggerating. They must show that he made the statements with the intention of either interfering with the official duties of members of Congress or retaliating against them for certifying the 2020 election results.Prosecutors have said that they may call Capitol Police officers as witnesses to testify about what happened on Jan. 6 and how they reacted to Mr. Hunt’s social media posts.The trial will require jurors to parse through Mr. Hunt’s web of political beliefs to understand his motivations. During jury selection, jurors were asked whether they have strong opinions about the 2020 election or about supporters of President Donald J. Trump that would prevent them from being fair and impartial.Prosecutors will show that Mr. Hunt, a fervent supporter of Mr. Trump, was furious about the outcome of the 2020 presidential election and believed members of Congress were “traitors” for supporting an election result that he viewed as illegitimate.Using Mr. Hunt’s social media comments and private text messages, prosecutors will argue that his statements were deliberate threats motivated by white supremacist and anti-Semitic beliefs.In the video that Mr. Hunt shared two days after the Capitol riot, he used references that are known to white supremacists, prosecutors said. The video was posted on BitChute, a platform with less restrictive moderation policies than YouTube, which has cracked down on the spread of hate speech and conspiracy theories.In a court filing, Mr. Hunt’s lawyers said he removed the video within two days of posting it. It was a “fellow conservative” who saw the video on BitChute and alerted the F.B.I., they wrote.The defense said Mr. Hunt held more nuanced political views than the government’s portrayal. He has posted on social media that he voted for President Barack Obama in 2008 and was later involved in the Occupy Wall Street movement, according to a court filing from his lawyers.“While we do not agree with many of Mr. Hunt’s views, we will fight to the death his right to express them,” his lawyers wrote.In December, Mr. Hunt wrote on Facebook describing Mr. Schumer, Ms. Pelosi and Ms. Ocasio-Cortez as the sort of “high value targets” that Mr. Trump’s supporters should shoot, prosecutors said.“They really need to be put down,” he wrote, according to the complaint. “These commies will see death before they see us surrender!”On the social media site Parler, prosecutors said, after another user suggested acting peacefully following the Capitol riot, Mr. Hunt wrote: “lets go, jan 20, bring your guns #millionmilitiamarch.”Law enforcement officials have historically been careful about bringing criminal charges hinged solely on speech, often waiting to see if the person making troubling statements online takes concrete steps toward violence. But in the weeks after Jan. 6, prosecutors around the country signaled that they were less willing to wait after witnessing how online rhetoric turned into the real-world violence that unfolded at the Capitol.During the pandemic, Mr. Hunt had been working from home in Ridgewood, Queens, making about $57,800 a year in his clerical job with the New York State courts system. He was terminated from the job after his arrest.Mr. Hunt had a long history of promoting conspiracy theories online, including falsely implicating the federal government in a cover-up of the 2012 massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary School, which killed 20 first graders and six educators.Mr. Hunt’s father is a retired family court judge in Queens.At a hearing last month, Mr. Hunt’s father, John M. Hunt, told the court that after his son graduated from college, he pursued a career in acting and clashed frequently with his mother over his marijuana use. Family disputes sometimes escalated into physical altercations, prosecutors said, to the point where Mr. Hunt’s father called on the police to intervene.The father blamed his son’s social media rants on marijuana and alcohol.“My son is not a walking time bomb,” he said in court. “He’s a bright guy. He can be engaging.” More

    • 88 Shares149 Views

      in Elections

      Florida Voting Restrictions Bill Heads to Legislature

      by

      The bill, which was recently softened, still includes measures like a ban on giving water to voters near polling places, and it would also empower partisan observers during the ballot-counting process.A bill that would impose a host of new restrictions on voting in Florida passed a key committee in the State Senate on Tuesday after a fiery debate among senators and hours of citizen testimony opposing the measure. The vote set the stage for a possible full floor vote in the Republican-controlled chamber in the coming weeks.The bill, known as S.B. 90, had significantly been revised last week by Dennis K. Baxley, the Republican state senator who introduced it, to roll back some of the more strident restrictions in the original bill, like banning drop boxes. It passed the Senate Rules Committee on Tuesday along a mostly party-line vote, with one Republican member of the committee, Jeff Brandes, voting against it.The measure also bans giving water to voters within 150 feet of a voting location; adds more identification requirements for absentee ballots; requires voters to request an absentee ballot every election rather than be on an absentee voting list; limits who can collect and drop off ballots; and empowers partisan observers during the ballot tabulating process.Florida, a major political battleground, is one of a number of Republican-controlled states, including Georgia, Texas and Arizona, that have marched forward with new bills seeking to limit access to voting. Republicans did well in Florida in 2020, with former President Donald J. Trump winning by more than 370,000 votes.State Senator Dennis K. Baxley during a legislative session in Tallahassee. Steve Cannon/Associated PressMr. Baxley, in introducing the bill, said that Florida’s election last year was the “gold standard” for the country, but that the new voting law was necessary to avoid potential problems.But the successful election in Florida was the reason that Democrats, as well as at least one Republican, pushed back on a lot of the provisions in the law. The newly amended bill that was passed limits the availability of drop boxes to early voting hours, rather than the 24-hour option that existed last year.Democratic senators, including Randolph Bracy, noted that there had been no evidence of any tampering with drop boxes, which was later confirmed in testimony by local election officials.Mr. Baxley replied simply that “things could happen.”The Republican sponsor did relent on one provision: requiring a “wet signature” (one handwritten using a pen or pencil) on file for voters who cast their ballots by mail for signature matching, rather than digital signatures, many of which are collected at Department of Motor Vehicle offices around the state.After intense debate and pressure, including from Republican senators, Mr. Baxley said on Tuesday morning that “by listening to others, and understanding your heart, I’m willing, and this Senate is willing, to take it out.”The bill was originally set for a vote last Wednesday, but the debate ran past the allotted meeting time and was abruptly gaveled to a close. The Senate Rules Committee picked up the final debate early Tuesday.During the public testimony last week, dozens of Florida voters spoke against the bill, as well as some local election officials, who took particular issue with the provision granting more authority to partisan poll watchers.Mr. Brandes, in his closing remarks on Tuesday morning, noted that election officials across the state had voiced opposition to the bill.“I need to put on the record that to my knowledge, not one Republican supervisor of elections in the state of Florida supports this bill in its current form,” he said.The lengthy debate last Wednesday grew heated at times, as Democrats grew frustrated with what they viewed as evasive answers from Mr. Baxley.“These are the most nonsensical, off-point answers I think I’ve ever heard to questions in my life,” said Gary Farmer, the Democratic minority leader in the State Senate.The bill that passed through committee on Tuesday brings the Senate effort more in line with a similar bill that has been introduced in the House by Blaise Ingoglia, a Republican representative from the Gulf Coast. The House bill, which passed a key House committee in March, also awaits a full vote later this month.The Florida Legislature is in session this year only through the end of April, so any bills will need to be passed by both chambers before May 1. More

    • 125 Shares179 Views

      in Elections

      The ‘New Redlining’ Is Deciding Who Lives in Your Neighborhood

      by

      If you care about social justice, you have to care about zoning.Housing segregation by race and class is a fountainhead of inequality in America, yet for generations, politicians have been terrified to address the issue. That is why it is so significant that President Biden has proposed, as part of his American Jobs Act, a $5 billion race-to-the-top competitive grants program to spur jurisdictions to “eliminate exclusionary zoning and harmful land use policies.”Mr. Biden would reward localities that voluntarily agree to jettison “minimum lot sizes, mandatory parking requirements and prohibitions on multifamily housing.” The Biden administration is off to an important start, but over the course of his term, Mr. Biden should add sticks to the carrots he has already proposed.Although zoning may seem like a technical, bureaucratic and decidedly local question, in reality the issue relates directly to three grand themes that Joe Biden ran on in the 2020 campaign: racial justice, respect for working-class people and national unity. Perhaps no single step would do more to advance those goals than tearing down the government-sponsored walls that keep Americans of different races and classes from living in the same communities, sharing the same public schools and getting a chance to know one another across racial, economic and political lines.Economically discriminatory zoning policies — which say that you are not welcome in a community unless you can afford a single-family home, sometimes on a large plot of land — are not part of a distant, disgraceful past. In most American cities, zoning laws prohibit the construction of relatively affordable homes — duplexes, triplexes, quads and larger multifamily units — on three-quarters of residential land.In the 2020 race, Mr. Biden said he was running to “restore the soul of our nation,” which had been damaged by President Donald Trump’s embrace of racism. Removing exclusionary barriers that keep millions of Black and Hispanic people out of safe neighborhoods with strong schools is central to the goal of advancing racial justice. Over the past several decades, as the sociologist Orlando Patterson has noted, Black people have been integrated into the nation’s political life and the military, “but the civil-rights movement failed to integrate Black Americans into the private domain of American life.”Single-family exclusive zoning, which was adopted by communities shortly after the Supreme Court struck down explicit racial zoning in 1917, is what activists call the “new redlining.” Racial discrimination has created an enormous wealth gap between white and Black people, and single-family-only zoning perpetuates that inequality.While exclusionary zoning laws are especially harmful to Black people, the discrimination is more broadly rooted in class snobbery — a second problem Mr. Biden highlighted in his campaign. As a proud product of Scranton, Pa., Mr. Biden said he would value the dignity of working people and not look down on anyone. The elitism Mr. Biden promised to reject helps explain why in virtually all-white communities like La Crosse, Wis., efforts to remedy economic segregation have received strong pushback from upper-income whites, and why middle-class Black communities have sometimes shown fierce resistance to low-income housing.If race were the only factor driving exclusionary zoning, one would expect to see such policies most extensively promoted in communities where racial intolerance is highest, but in fact the most restrictive zoning is found in politically liberal cities, where racial views are more progressive. As Harvard’s Michael Sandel has noted, social psychologists have found that highly-educated elites “may denounce racism and sexism but are unapologetic about their negative attitudes toward the less educated.” Class discrimination helps explain why, despite a 25 percent decline in Black-white residential segregation since 1970, income segregation has more than doubled.By addressing a problem common to America’s multiracial working class, reducing exclusionary barriers could also help promote Mr. Biden’s third big goal: national unity. Today, no two groups are more politically divided from each other than working-class whites and working-class people of color. For centuries, going back to Bacon’s Rebellion in 1676, right-wing politicians have successfully pitted these two groups against each other, but every once in a while, America breaks free of this grip, and lower-income and working-class people of all races come together and engage in what the Rev. William Barber II calls “fusion politics.”It happened in 1968, when Mr. Biden’s hero Robert Kennedy brought together working-class Black, Latino and white constituencies in a presidential campaign that championed a liberalism without elitism and a populism without racism. It happened again in 1997 and 2009 in Texas, when Republican legislators representing white working-class voters and Democrats representing Black and Hispanic constituencies came together to support (and then to defend) the Texas top 10 percent plan to admit the strongest students in every high school to the University of Texas at Austin, despite the opposition of legislators representing wealthy white suburban districts that had dominated admissions for decades. And a similar coalition appears to be coming together in California, over the issue of exclusionary zoning. State Senator Scott Wiener, who has been trying to legalize multifamily living spaces, told me that Republican and Democratic legislators representing working-class communities have supported reform, while the opponents have one thing in common: They represent wealthier constituents who “wanted to keep certain people out of their community.” More