By Noah Rothman
Tuesday, March 09, 2021
The establishmentarian GOP is heading for the exits.
Ahead of what should be a strong midterm election cycle
for the party out of power, incumbent Republican senators are retiring in
conspicuous numbers. On Monday, Missouri Sen. Roy Blunt announced that he will
not seek another term in office next year. His statement follows retirements
from his Republican colleagues in places like Ohio, Pennsylvania, North
Carolina, and Alabama—none of whom owe their careers or allegiances to the
Republican Party’s ascendent populist wing.
Much of the political class has interpreted these
abdications as a response to the likelihood that the GOP will continue to
self-Trumpify for the foreseeable future. A cursory survey of the Republican
Party’s obsequious displays of supplication before the former president even
despite his hostility toward that institution would seem to support that
conclusion.
Over the weekend, Donald Trump’s attorneys sent a shot
across the Republican Party’s bow with a flurry of cease-and-desist letters directed at the GOP’s
national, Senate, and congressional campaign committees. The former president
threatened his party’s chief fundraising apparatuses with the demand that they
stop using Donald Trump’s name or likeness when soliciting donations or selling
merchandise.
That’s a significant escalation of tensions. Trump remains
the party’s most popular figure among Republican voters. As of last month,
Trump’s Political Action Committee had $105 million on hand—a haul he helped raise alongside the
Republican National Committee amid his efforts to contest the 2020 election
results and, eventually, insist that the race had been stolen from him. Trump
has already announced
his intention to deploy those resources in the effort to stoke
intraparty feuds and finance primary challenges against Republican incumbents
who failed to support that effort.
That’s bad news if you’re in the business of protecting
incumbents, which the GOP’s committees most certainly are. Trump’s announcement
is nothing short of a declaration of war. So, what has the RNC done in
response? Sue for peace, of course.
On Monday, press reports revealed that the RNC had
decided to move part of its spring donors’ retreat scheduled for next month to
Donald Trump’s resort in Mar-a-Lago. Convention planners who spoke with
the Washington Post offered a variety of unconvincing
explanations for the move, but reporters also couldn’t help but notice that
“Spending money at the club is also likely to curry favor with Trump…”
So, having received his taste, we can presume Trump and
the Republican Party worked out their differences amicably. Right? Wrong.
Earlier that same day, Trump’s PAC sent out a short and
sweet fundraising pitch affirming his intention to siphon off as much donor cash
away from Republican lawmakers as possible. “No more money for RINOS,” the solicitation read. “They do nothing but hurt the
Republican Party and our great voting base—they will never lead us to
Greatness.”
“Send your donations to Save America PAC,” the email
concluded. “We will bring it all back stronger than ever before.” That is the
entirety of Trump’s pitch to donors. And maybe that is sufficient for people
who don’t know or care what they’re supporting with their political
contributions, but, presumably, donors to the Republican Party’s committees do.
Or, maybe, they did. If there is any instinct for self-preservation left within
these organizations, it has gone dormant.
If this recent sequence of events reads a little bit like
a classic shakedown, that’s not your imagination. And that should trouble
anyone with a vested interest in conventional Republican policy
objectives—strengthening the national defense, preventing taxpayer dollars from
being used to finance progressive culture wars, and putting downward pressure
on the national credit card’s rising balance. But many of the party’s elected
officials don’t seem interested in even arguing in favor of those objectives.
The imminent passage of the Democratic Party’s
COVID-relief bill, for example, has presented the GOP with a variety of
tantalizing messaging opportunities—most of which have been neglected. Buried
under the bill’s more popular and arguably necessary provisions are a variety
of giveaways to Democratic interest groups. Among them, a bribe
directed at federal workers aimed at keeping their kids out of public
schools, which also represents an incentive for administrators to maintain
school closures; a delay in the relief bill’s disbursements designed (according to Sen. Mitt Romney) to artificially create a
new, higher baseline for the federal budget; and a bailout for the city of San Francisco, erasing its budget
deficit and forestalling a financial reckoning in the form of pared-back
services and public sector layoffs.
The Trumpian wing of the party hasn’t displayed much
inclination to educate the public on these matters, preferring instead to lean
into abstract culture wars that have only a tangential relationship with the
affairs of government. One has to wonder what the Republican Party’s donors
think they’re getting with their contributions if it isn’t policies they
support or the defense of the incumbents who might one day make up the backbone
of new Republican congressional majorities. They might as well give their money
directly to the Trump Organization and cut out the middleman.
No comments:
Post a Comment