The Democrats have given up on democracy.
If occupying a congressional building is a crime, it's not just The Donald who's guilty
The Colorado supreme court has come up with a novel solution to Donald Trump: take him off the ballot. Arguing that he promoted an insurrection, and using a Civil War-era law to disqualify him on that basis, the state’s judges have sought to remove him as cleanly from their politics as one disinfects a kitchen surface. “One wipe, all gone!”
It won’t make much difference: Trump was never going to win Colorado and, if anything, it’ll boost his support in more important places, such as Iowa and New Hampshire. Republicans can claim that the Democrats have given up on democracy – polluted as it is by “deplorables” – and now prefer to handle problems “via my lawyers”. It put me in mind of Aidan Maese-Czeropski, the gay congressional aide who allegedly filmed himself having sex in a senate hearing room out of hours and sent the video to a private group.
It leaked, of course. Maese-Czeropski issued a statement so textbook in its “sorry, not sorry” Millennial wokespeak that they ought to study it at Harvard (where, no doubt, some prof would copy it and pass it off as her own). He wrote: “this has been a difficult time for me” – tick – “as I have been attacked for who I love” – tick, tick – “to pursue a political agenda” - smiley face, thumbs up. He concluded: “I will be exploring what legal options are available to me in these matters.”
Maese-Czeropski has since deleted this brave statement. The Senate says he no longer works there.
It’s good to know the limits: you can riot in the streets, shout “death to the Jews” on campus, but not have sex in the senate building because some very old people are trying to sleep. But what really tickles me is the immediate go-to of political sanctity (I’m the real victim!) wrapped up with legal threat, a reminder that this litigious republic was created by lawyers. Indeed, it was rescued by one, Abraham Lincoln, who once advised students “If in your own judgement you cannot be an honest lawyer, resolve to be honest without being a lawyer.”
Abe was honest about his dishonesty, and in that spirit let’s consider what Freddy Gray calls the “lawfare” against Donald Trump. He faces 91 felony counts (two local, two federal) that might result in prison, plus a civil suit in New York that could do serious damage to his business. I’m not alleging choreography, but the cases do happen to divvy up neatly the various charges against his political career: in Manhattan, hush money to silence women who say they slept with him; via the Department of Justice, the allegation that he illegally removed documents; in DC, that he illegally tried to stay in office after the 2020 election; and in Georgia that he engaged in racketeering to steal the presidency. The latter is thought to be the best shot at putting him behind bars.
Tucker Carlson recently interviewed notorious pharma-bro convict Martin Shkreli, and though Shkreli is awful, he made one interesting point: he met some evil people in jail but never someone who got “four separate indictments from four separate divisions of government. That is like an all-time best-selling record.”
Trump himself has claimed to have been indicted more often even than the “great” Al Capone, telling a crowd: “If he didn’t like the way you smiled at him at dinner, he would kill you… He got indicted once.”
As is so often the case with Trump, it sounds good – funny – but it ain’t true. Capone was indicted at least six times, and historian A Brad Schwartz says that one indictment alone, in 1931, added up to 5,000 conspiracy charges. Nevertheless, it does feel as if Trump is being pursued as if he were the head of a nationwide criminal organisation on the level of Spectre or the KGB. If you believe that he broke the law and America is a nation of laws, then it’s rational to chase him down – but that mission has to be somewhat nuanced when dealing with a democratically elected president (on course for renomination) rather than stretching every point into a noose to sling around the defendant’s neck.
Take the Colorado verdict. A New York Times subheading reads: “The 4-3 decision was harshly criticized by Trump supporters, who called it undemocratic. But some observers say the court is notably nonpartisan.” Notably nonpartisan. Keep those words in mind as we scroll past a photo, down to the very first paragraph of the piece, which reads: “The Colorado Supreme Court… is composed of seven justices who were all appointed by Democratic governors.”
Yeah. That sounds notably very partisan to me.
Said justices have claimed Trump cannot run on the basis of section three of the 14th Amendment, intended to prevent secessionists – ie actual traitors – from running for office. This applies to the Colorado Republican primary, but if upheld would probably count in the general election, too.
Should this section reasonably be applied beyond the Civil War, let alone to a president? Freddy Gray notes that “Congress voted to ‘remove the disability’ under the Amnesty Act of 1872 and again in 1898” – plus there’s the little matter that whether or not Trump encouraged an insurrection on January 6 remains hotly contested. The Republicans pin their hopes on the US Supreme Court dismissing the ruling because the higher court is more conservative; three members were appointed by Trump.
In short, the fate of democracy in Colorado hinges on one group of partisans overruling another group of partisans, suggesting that justice is really only a branch of two-party politics – a sad indictment of the American system.
Meanwhile, the question I would most like to see judges answer is this: does Maese-Czeropski’s transgression amount to an insurrection? He did, in a sense, occupy a congressional building. DT.
