By Andrew C. McCarthy
Saturday, January 09, 2021
On August 7, 1974, a trio of Capitol Hill’s Republican
eminences, led by Senator Barry Goldwater, called on a beleaguered President
Richard Nixon at the Old Executive Office Building on the White House flank.
The Watergate scandal was in its end stages. Consequently, the meeting was not
about presidential decorum, evidence of obstruction, or the finer points of
high crimes and misdemeanors. The meeting was about math.
Goldwater, along with his fellow Arizonan John Rhodes and
Pennsylvania’s Hugh Scott (respectively, the House and Senate minority
leaders), explained to Nixon that his support among Senate Republicans had
collapsed. It was already inevitable that the House would move forward with the
articles of impeachment that had been adopted by its Judiciary Committee nearly
two weeks earlier. Now, the only practical question was whether the president
could count on more than a third of the Democrat-controlled Senate, where
Republicans held just 41 seats. Goldwater, Scott, and Rhodes assessed that
Nixon’s support had dwindled down to no more than 15 senators, and probably
fewer.
Contrary to lore, none of the lawmakers implored the
president to resign. Nixon, a sophisticated man and calculating politician, did
not need to be told that he’d reached the end of the line. The following day,
he announced his resignation, effective at noon on August 9.
We are in a very different time now, but math hasn’t
changed.
I took a beating on Twitter Thursday night for making
what I thought was a commonsense observation that President Trump should be
negotiating favorable terms for resignation “if there are 20 GOP senators who’d
vote to impeach.” In our current climate, this was taken as a call for Trump’s
impeachment. But it wasn’t a value judgment. It was a mathematical calculation.
As it happens, I do think the president has committed an
impeachable offense, making a reckless speech that incited a throng on the
mall, which foreseeably included an insurrectionist mob. These rioters ended up
overwhelming security forces and storming the Capitol. They shut down a solemn
constitutional proceeding, endangering the lives of the vice president and the
people’s representatives. They ripped through the facility, causing not only
significant property damage but grave injuries.
On Thursday night, the Capitol Police announced that
Officer Brian D. Sicknick had tragically died — as this is written, it is
unclear from press reports whether this was due to being struck by a fire
extinguisher wielded by a rioter, to being exposed to a chemical agent during
the melee, or to some combination of those things. Officer Sicknick becomes the
fifth fatality in the attack; one apparent insurrectionist was shot to death by
police and three others suffered such “medical emergencies” as stroke and heart
attack.
This is a heinous offense on the president’s part, at
least in terms of the Constitution’s impeachment standard.
As noted
earlier this week, I have prosecuted the federal offense of inciting crimes of
violence. In my judgment, there is no way the president could be convicted in
a criminal trial. The First Amendment makes incitement a very tough proof.
My defendant was convicted because I had strong evidence that he (a) made
statements that unambiguously called for murder, (b) fully intended his statements
to incite the commission of murder, and (c) was a globally notorious terrorist
who had a history of directing subordinates to conduct lethal attacks. There is
nothing like that in Trump’s situation.
The president was utterly irresponsible in his demagoguery.
He plainly intended for thousands of supporters to march on the Capitol to
create political pressure on Vice President Pence and congressional Republicans
— i.e., to induce them to take what would have been lawless procedural steps to
invalidate electoral votes that states had cast for President-elect Biden.
There is no evidence, though, much less proof beyond a reasonable doubt, that
Trump intended to instigate the Battle of Capitol Hill. He did not want anyone
to be physically injured, let alone killed.
Yet the issue in impeachment is not criminal liability.
As we extensively covered a year ago, impeachment concerns what Hamilton described as
political offenses that call into question fitness for high
public office. On that standard, the president’s incitement is
indefensible, both for the undermining of our constitutional system that it
promoted and the carnage it caused — however unintentionally. As someone who
contended that the Ukraine kerfuffle was partisan theater masqueraded as
impeachable offenses, I must say that this incident, to the contrary, is
undeniably impeachable.
Nevertheless, I haven’t called for the president to be
impeached and removed. Instead, to repeat what I said in the column linked
above, while I would never argue that what he’s done is not impeachable, it
would be a mistake to launch an impeachment now. There are only eleven days
left in the president’s term. More important, removing him at this stage would
gratuitously fan the flames of societal division that have intermittently
exploded into violent rioting for the past year. Beyond that, I’ve opposed the
caprice of invoking the 25th Amendment to remove Trump because that procedure
is reserved for grave medical conditions that render a stricken president
unable to perform his duties. That is not our situation.
Now, I am an analyst, not a public official. I do the
best I can to figure out and explain what I think should happen, and write it
in a way I hope people find persuasive (perhaps even some people on Twitter).
But it doesn’t control anything, and the world is not exactly waiting at the
edge of its seat to read it. The 25th Amendment is not going to be invoked.
That is not because of what I may think about it; it is because Vice President
Pence, the key official in the amendment’s procedure, is not of a mind to go
that route — he knows it doesn’t apply and no Trump cabinet majority would
support it in any event.
The president could, however, be impeached and removed by
the Congress. That is less likely to happen than I supposed on Thursday. That
evening, like everybody else, I heard determined-sounding statements by House
speaker Nancy Pelosi and Senate Democratic leader Chuck Schumer, insisting that
President Trump should be impeached if Pence failed to trigger the 25th
Amendment. But I should have listened for the fine print. What they said is
that, if Pence would not act, Congress should reconvene to impeach and
remove Trump.
That is, Congress is not in session. Lawmakers are not
scheduled to reassemble until just before Inauguration Day, January 20. They
were only on Capitol Hill earlier this week because the new Congress needed to
be sworn in, and the Constitution requires a joint session for the counting of
the states’ electoral votes — the fateful January 6 proceeding that came under
siege. With the pandemic spiking again, Congress has reduced its sessions to
what is deemed truly necessary. It would thus require real effort and consensus
to reconvene Congress for a brisk impeachment. Early Friday afternoon, Pelosi
reaffirmed that she could bring the House into session in the middle of next
week, but no final decision had been made.
Even if Pelosi succeeded in bringing the House back for a
whirlwind deliberation and vote on one or more articles of impeachment sometime
next week, Schumer will not become the majority leader until at least January
20. (That is when the 50–50 Senate’s tie-breaking vote, Vice President-elect
Kamala Harris, is sworn in as Pence’s successor; it could also take an additional
day or two, depending on when the two Democrats who prevailed in Georgia’s
run-off elections are sworn in as senators.) That leaves matters up to the GOP
leader, Senator Mitch McConnell. He no doubt has genuine concerns about the
potential for more destructive behavior by the president — after the last two
months, who doesn’t? But, besides how divisive an impeachment would be for the
country (and how alienating it would be to millions of Trump supporters),
McConnell also has to weigh institutional damage. A Senate impeachment trial on
a heedlessly rushed time frame would necessarily have to shed many due-process
protections. It would be a dangerous precedent — the Framers wanted impeachment
to be hard to do, lest Congress have too much control over the president. As a
practical matter, could anything resembling a credible trial be started and
finished in what would be less than a week? Would it be worth the trouble given
that, no matter what, Trump’s term ends in just a few days?
I don’t think so . . . although Congress, like the vice
president and top executive officials, clearly must be prepared to act in
rapid, bipartisan fashion if the president does or tries to do anything
reckless between now and then.
All that said, what would happen if the House were to
reconvene for a quickie impeachment, the Senate were to determine that it was
obliged to conduct a trial, and the president had no way of running out the
clock?
Well then we’re in the Nixon-Goldwater scenario. We’re
beyond talking about what happened. We’re down to the math. In an impeachment
trial, it requires the votes of 67 senators to convict and remove a president.
There are 48 Democrats in the Senate, and they’d all vote to impeach. If 19
Republicans would vote with them, the president would be expelled — it gets
down to 17 Republicans once the Georgia Democrats arrive.
Right or wrong is not the issue. It’s just the numbers.
For what it’s worth, I suspect that more Senate
Republicans would oppose conducting an impeachment proceeding at this late
stage than would oppose removing the president if there were such a trial. But
to repeat the point I was trying to make on Twitter, if impeachment is
realistically being contemplated, the president should consider resigning,
because there is a good chance he would lose.
Resignation would be better for the country and better
for the president — at least if he negotiated favorable terms. A pardon by
Pence would be beneficial. Trump would get some peace of mind, but the
government would not be making much of a concession: As noted above, the
president’s incitement is not a prosecutable federal crime; a pardon would not
affect the ongoing state investigation in New York; and while Trump’s more
vindictive critics would have him prosecuted for jay-walking if they could,
Biden and his attorney general nominee, Judge Merrick Garland, undoubtedly
realize that the hounding of the former Republican president by the new
Democratic administration — after a partisan slugfest of a campaign and the
noxious Obama-Biden legacy of using the Justice Department to investigate
political adversaries — would be bad politics and terrible for the country.
They will want to move on from Trump, not make him a martyr.
Moreover, it would be much better for the institution of
the presidency if Pence pardoned Trump than if Trump pardoned himself. Pence
could justify it, as President Gerald Ford did for Nixon, as a matter of
helping the country move on from a divisive controversy. For his part, Trump
would probably have to agree not to seek public office again. Otherwise, there
would be political pressure to proceed with Trump’s impeachment — even if he
has already left office — in order to trigger the disqualification penalty that
the Constitution makes attendant to conviction at an impeachment trial.
I continue to hope we can get through the next eleven
days without all this drama. That is out of my hands, though, just as it is out
of yours, dear reader. If the officials with the whip hand are determined to
exercise it, then it’s not a morality play: It’s a chess game of time and
numbers – until a Barry Goldwater inevitably knocks on the door and says,
“Checkmate.”
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