By Nick Catoggio
Thursday, November 13, 2025
Nothing interesting happens in the Duma. That’s what makes
it the Duma.
In an autocracy, the legislature exists to exist. It
serves no purpose except to provide a veneer of democratic legitimacy to
czarist rule. Voters choose their representatives with the understanding that
those representatives will carry out the will of the president, not the will of
their constituents.
It’s a Potemkin village. Nothing important goes on there,
by definition.
Our own legislature is becoming
a Duma but hasn’t fully transitioned, just as America is becoming
a third-world country yet still retains some trappings of its first-world
past. Despite the best efforts of the Republican Party, meaningful business
does occasionally still take place in Congress. The Russian Duma would never
shut down Vladimir Putin’s government, right?
Something meaningful might be about to happen in the U.S.
Senate, this time with the consent of Republicans. And if you’re surprised to
find yourself reading that, imagine how surprised I am to find myself writing
it.
That “something meaningful” isn’t the upcoming
vote on extending Obamacare subsidies, which Majority Leader John Thune
promised as part
of the deal to reopen the government. Republicans aren’t about to support a
Democrat-written bill that would hand Chuck Schumer the very thing he
instigated a shutdown over—although, given how terrible the politics of the
issue are for the GOP, some sort of bipartisan agreement to fund the subsidies
is likely in the end.
I’m talking about a vote on the bill that’s brewing in
the House to compel the Justice Department to release its files on Jeffrey
Epstein.
The president is working hard to smother that bill now
that a discharge petition to force a vote on it has received
the requisite 218 signatures. Four Republicans joined Democrats in
supporting that petition; two of them, Thomas Massie and Marjorie Taylor
Greene, have built brands as mavericks unwilling to compromise on populist
goals and are therefore unlikely to withdraw their signatures under White House
pressure.
That left Nancy Mace and Lauren Boebert as targets for
Donald Trump’s sticks and carrots. On Wednesday the president reportedly phoned
Mace, who’s running for governor of South Carolina, to lobby her to rescind her
support for the discharge petition but couldn’t
get her to pick up, weirdly enough. Boebert was available, however, and
accepted Trump’s invitation to discuss the matter … in
the Situation Room, the White House’s ultra-secure nerve center for
addressing momentous crises, where Attorney General Pam Bondi and FBI Director
Kash Patel were waiting for her.
Normally a loyal Trump toady, Boebert did not flip. In
fact, according to the New York Times, the White House’s threatening
reminders of how popular the president is in her district “caused Ms. Boebert
to dig in and more seriously entertain the possibility of a real conspiracy at
play to cover up what is in the Epstein files.”
It does seem like
a cover-up is afoot, doesn’t it? Enough so that even conspiratorial
populists like Boebert, who’ve spent 10 years seeing elite corruption
everywhere except in Trump’s own conduct, are struggling to ignore what’s in
front of their faces.
A House vote on the bill has now been tentatively
scheduled. If it passes, there’s a real chance it will do so with the support
of dozens of GOPers who declined to sign the petition but now realize there’s
more to lose politically by opposing it than there is to gain. And if that
happens, John Thune and the Republicans of the Duma’s upper chamber will for
once be tempted to use their own power to accomplish something meaningful that
they know the czar won’t like, passing the bill and sending it to his desk.
Is Donald Trump’s party about to dump the Epstein crisis
in his lap?
Bad timing.
I wonder if Mike Johnson regrets having kept the House
out of session for so long.
The speaker sent everyone home after his chamber passed a
government funding bill in September, jamming the Senate with a “take it or
leave it” gambit to put pressure on them to approve the House bill and avert a
shutdown. But closing up shop also gave Johnson an excuse to avoid swearing in
Democrat Adelita Grijalva, who won a special election in Arizona more than
seven weeks ago and had promised to supply the 218th signature on
the Epstein discharge petition.
As long as Grijalva wasn’t officially a member of the
House, she couldn’t sign the petition. Which made this the second time that the
speaker has organized the House schedule around avoiding
business related to Jeffrey Epstein.
Johnson may have calculated that stalling would give
Trump time to work on Boebert and Mace to rescind their support of the Epstein
petition before Grijalva could put it over the top. If so, it wasn’t crazy for
him to think that a shutdown engineered by Democrats would drive
Americans—especially Republicans—to rally around their president, which might
make Boebert and Mace reluctant to take sides against Trump in the Epstein
matter.
But it hasn’t worked out that way. The president’s job
approval dropped
3 full points in less than a month, roughly coinciding with public anxiety
about SNAP
benefits being cut off. Polling during the shutdown consistently showed
that the public blamed Trump and his party more than the Democrats for the
crisis, and one
survey conducted last week found 16 percent of Trump voters now saying they
regret having cast their ballot for him last year. When asked why, the most
common responses featured the words “government” and/or “shutdown.”
Today, the president has less, not more, political
capital than he had before Democrats turned the lights off. If there was any
doubt about that, last week’s election results erased it.
Meanwhile, the Epstein crisis has gotten worse for him.
The emails I
wrote about yesterday turned out to be the first in a bigger batch released
by House Democrats, in which America’s most notorious pedophile cast aspersions
on America’s most notorious president. Epstein claimed
to have photos of Trump “with girls in bikinis in my kitchen” and told one
powerful friend, “i know how dirty donald is.” He called
his former friend a “maniac” with “not one decent cell in his body” and said
to another correspondent, “i am the one able to take him down.”
As that was playing out, reports circulated that
Ghislaine Maxwell, Epstein’s chief accomplice, is receiving a
curious number of special privileges in the cushy new minimum-security
federal penitentiary she’s been
housed at ever since she told Deputy Attorney General Todd Blanche in an
interview that—surprise—she
never saw Trump do anything improper. Democratic members of the House
Judiciary Committee alleged
a few days ago that not only is Maxwell preparing to ask Trump to commute her
prison sentence, for some reason her warden is assisting her with her
application.
And so we’re left to wonder: What might have happened had
Johnson kept the House in session, sworn in Grijalva promptly, and let the
Epstein bill come to the floor in September?
Maybe a pre-shutdown, pre-election Trump would have
scared Mace into withdrawing her signature, pointing out that Republican
gubernatorial candidates tend not to do well in primaries when the president is
mad at them. Even if the bill had reached the floor, it might have passed by
only a bare majority instead of the forceful majority it’s likely to attract
now that his popular support has weakened and the stench of suspicion around
him over Epstein has grown overpowering.
Then, when the bill reached the Senate, it probably would
have been voted down by Republicans. Trump would have called in favors from his
loyal servants in the Duma to deny Democrats the 60 votes they’d need to pass
it and, given his comparatively strong political position at the time, they
likely would have complied.
I’m not so sure they’ll comply now. Post-shutdown and
post-election, Senate Republicans have good reasons to pass the House bill,
send it to Trump for signature, and force him into one of the most politically
painful moments of his nearly five years as president. They can make him take
full, exclusive responsibility for suppressing a major scandal in which he’s a
main character by daring him to veto the release of the Epstein files.
Permission structure.
Both wings of the Senate GOP have a near-term incentive
to do so.
The Epstein matter has become an albatross for the party.
Trump’s net job approval on handling the case is 39 points underwater,
more than twice as bad as his rating on tariffs and trade policy. Fewer than
half of Republicans approve of how he’s handled the issue, a dearth of
confidence in his leadership by the American right that may be unprecedented
since 2015. Normally, helping the president do his dirty work is a can’t-miss
path to populist credibility for Republican legislators who are ever eager to
ingratiate themselves to their party’s base. Not this time.
In fact, Epstein may be the only subject besides
immigration on which MAGA voters have firm substantive priorities that
supersede Trump’s own political needs. To deny them the truth about a
conspiracy among rich, powerful perverts is to strike at the heart of populism,
abetting a cover-up of elite corruption that the swamp-draining Trump
insurgency of 2016 was supposed to expose. Whether you’re an ambitious
nationalist like Josh Hawley or an ambitious conservative like Ted Cruz, why
piss off those voters by aligning yourself with the dissolute elite—and their
presidential ally—instead of voting to release the files?
Why not seize a rare opportunity to damage Donald Trump
without incurring the wrath of the Republican base?
Both wings of the party also have a longer-term strategic
incentive to do so. For postliberals, the
post-Trump era might arrive early as the president’s national support
sinks. At 41.8
percent approval, he’s perilously close to the political “Mendoza Line”; if
inflation picks up, if job growth slows, if he talks himself into a war with
Venezuela that proves messier than expected, one can imagine him sinking below
40 and triggering an excited “lame duck” response. Figures on his right flank
like Greene, Tucker Carlson, and Nick Fuentes will grow bolder in criticizing
him, hoping to lure Republicans disappointed by Trump’s failures toward
radicalism ahead of 2028.
They’ll never admit it, but they’d love to see the
president wounded in a way that would make it easy to argue that he wasn’t
ruthless enough. The Epstein mess is practically heaven-sent for that purpose.
If your post-Trump pitch to the right will be that real populism has never
been tried, you can’t do better to illustrate the point than having him run
interference for America’s cabal of ruling-class pedophiles, of which the
president himself may or may not have been a prominent member.
It’s not just postliberals who stand to benefit, though.
Traditional conservatives are also looking ahead to 2028 and hoping
to make a comeback, which partly explains why they’ve been so vocal lately
in denouncing Carlson and Fuentes for antisemitism. For moral and ideological
reasons, Reaganites don’t want a party dominated by militant reactionaries for
whom Donald Trump wasn’t sufficiently bigoted or autocratic. But there’s a
problem: As Cruz learned the hard way in the 2016 primary, the grassroots right
is more populist than it is conservative. People like him will be at a
disadvantage in the coming battle for hearts and minds against the Lindberghian
faction if they don’t bank populist brownie points whenever they can.
The Epstein matter is heaven-sent for them too. If you
want to show the right that they don’t need to nominate Tucker Carlson for
president to ensure that a Republican White House will expose predatory elites,
voting yes on the House bill to release the DOJ’s files is just what you’d do.
It’s surely what I would do if I were Ted Cruz—especially knowing how much
political cover I’m likely to get on defying Trump from the many House
Republicans who will probably also vote yes.
There’s another component that senators should consider
in deciding how to vote on releasing the Epstein files. Although one should
never bet against the cultishness of the modern Republican voter, it’s possible
that a deepening Epstein scandal will create a “permission structure” for
rank-and-file GOPers to finally begin questioning their leader about all sorts
of things, not just his relationship with his old friend Jeffrey.
The day will come when it’s no longer taboo on the right
to speak discouragingly about Trump. I’ve always assumed that it wouldn’t
arrive until after he’s dead, but I could be wrong. As more
obnoxious strains of nationalism metastasize and reassure his fans that
populism will continue to dominate the party even if the president falters
politically, it stands to reason that those fans might grow more comfortable challenging
him on his
failures.
There’s no logical reason that right-wing anger over the
Epstein files should make, say, right-wing opposition to war with Venezuela
more likely—but it might. Once Trump has inadvertently given supporters
cause to doubt the seriousness of his commitment to populism or even (gasp) his
basic good character, that doubt might spread in unexpected directions. We may
yet live long enough to see him derided by prominent capos in his own
revolutionary movement as part of the “uniparty,” assimilated by the ancien
régime.
Distance.
So if you’re a Republican senator, why not vote for the
House’s Epstein bill and send it to Trump’s desk? Let him own the decision on
whether the files are released or not.
There’s no downside. If he signs the bill, he’ll do so
only because he’s confident that there’s nothing truly damning in the DOJ’s
records about him. (Spoiler: Judging by his behavior over the last six months,
he is very much not confident.) If he vetoes it, you get to dismiss future
revelations about the Trump-Epstein relationship of the sort we’ve seen this
week with, “What do you want from me? I voted to release the files.”
That sure beats having to nervously split
hairs about the difference between pedophilia and ephebophilia, no?
And of course, Trump will veto the bill.
Ultimately, what the Justice Department knows about all of this won’t be shared
with the public. If Senate Republicans are nervous that passing the House
legislation might blow up in their faces by exposing an unspinnably sordid
Trump scandal, they should rest easy. He won’t let that happen.
Voting yes is also a hedge against disgraces yet to come.
Given the depths to which the president has already
stooped in issuing corrupt acts of clemency, it seems likely that he’s
going to commute
Maxwell’s sentence at some point. If Republicans are lucky, it won’t happen
until after the midterms. But if there really is some unholy quid pro quo
shaping up between her and the White House in which she gets released early in
exchange for exonerating Trump, he might not have the luxury of delaying.
Epstein’s procurer might not be willing to wait another year for her freedom.
When a reporter sticks a camera in your face on your way
into the Senate chamber and asks what you think about Trump springing America’s
most infamous living child abuser from prison, you’ll want to be able to look
them in the eye and say, “You know that I voted to release the files, right?”
You might also take heart from the fact that the
president won’t be able to punish you for disloyalty the way he usually can.
There’s strength in numbers, for one thing: The more Republicans there are in
both chambers who vote in favor of the Epstein bill, the harder it’ll be for
Trump to target anyone. Even if he wanted to do so, how would it work? Imagine
him running ads in a GOP primary attacking the incumbent for wanting to …
expose the truth about Jeffrey Epstein.
Besides, anyone who votes against him in this matter will
have ample opportunities to make it up to him later. Eventually he’ll want to
declare martial law in some left-wing city or start droning drug dealers on
U.S. soil or shutting down newspapers or what have you, and all Senate
Republicans will need to do to get back in his good graces is … nothing. Which
they’re great at. They didn’t become a Duma by accident, you know.
Until then, though, they’d be fools not to seize a chance
to put some distance between themselves and an unpopular leader whose
unpopularity is likely to grow knowing that, for once, the fanatic right-wing
base won’t fault them for doing so. All we need is 13 Republicans to join hands
with Democrats to pass the bill and force Trump to issue an Epstein veto. I
think we’ll have them.
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