Congress

The quadrennial Super Bowl of the race for what is always the ‘most important election ever’ is now a mere seven months away. All eyes not glued to Donald Trump turn to the presumptive Joe Biden. Presumptive in many ways and years, Joe raises the knotty issue of whether a senator can, or rather, should be elected president. Only three have gone from ‘sitting’ during a single term in the Senate to sitting in the White House: Warren G. Harding, John F. Kennedy and Barack Obama. The truth is, senators don’t make good presidents. Most of them don’t even make good senators. Warren Harding was not of the modern, post-World War Two era. He did once hold an important if mostly ceremonial seat as lieutenant governor of Ohio.

It’s incredibly easy to blame President Trump for the coronavirus hell we're all living in. The president doesn’t help himself when he babbles for an hour and a half every single day behind the White House podium, about how smooth the federal government’s disaster management response has been, how superior his leadership. But the truth is much more complicated, troubling, and systemic. America wasn't prepared — and there is plenty of blame to go around. How the hell could the most powerful country in the world be so short-staffed in its hospitals?

'Never let a good crisis go to waste.' When Rahm Emanuel said that during the economic meltdown of 2008-2009, his Machiavellian cynicism was instantly recognized as the calling card of the new breed of Democrat that he and his boss, Barack 'Bring-a-gun-to-the fight' Obama, embodied. We saw it then, when the gargantuan pseudo-stimulus package stimulated little apart from the federal debt, and we are seeing it again now as Democrats hold up an emergency spending bill (also gargantuan) in order to fill it with profligate and politically tendentious provisions.  As Rep. Jim Clyburn put it,  'This is a tremendous opportunity to restructure things to fit our vision.' Rahm Emanuel could not have put it any better.

The single most important thing to understand about the Senate impeachment trial is that it is all for show, meant to influence the November election. Yes, the House managers and president’s attorney will present formal arguments to the Senate. The real argument, though, is intended for the public in 10 months. It always has been. That argument will play out in the media and on the campaign trail.There are three sets of elections that matter: presidential ballots in six or seven contested states (the industrial Midwest, Florida, and a few others), Senate ballots in Maine, Colorado, Arizona, Iowa and North Carolina (where Republican incumbents are vulnerable), and about 30 Democratic House members in red districts, whose fate will decide the next Speaker.

The third presidential impeachment in US history has now reached the Senate. Like the first two, this one is almost certainly going to lead to presidential acquittal. An old saying given definitive expression by Ralph Waldo Emerson (and recently adapted by The Wire) warns that you should 'never strike a king unless you are sure that you shall kill him'. Congress may not be risking royal reprisal here, but it is teaching all Americans — including all future presidents — a fateful lesson in institutional impotence. After this, who is ever again going to take the threat of impeachment seriously? Congress has called its own bluff.

Watching parts of the Watergate hearings again recently, I was struck by just how dry they are as a spectacle. This momentous national occasion, with all its historic consequences, appeared to be conducted with all the torpor of a group of chameleons sunbathing on a tree branch. If you were to compare Alexander P. Butterfield’s restrained, emotionally strangled testimony with Jon Stewart’s showboating appearance before a House Judiciary Committee yesterday, you would think an enormous change in human nature had occurred in the decades between then and now. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MeQXopJ5U-Q Stewart was attending a hearing for a bill that would protect the health benefits of 9/11 first responders.

The Republicans are the party of racists and religious bigots, and the Democrats are the party of anti-racists and religious tolerance. That’s why 21 Democrats from the almost entirely Democratic Congressional Black Caucus refused to comment when it emerged in 2018 that in 2005 they had met secretly with Louis Farrakhan. He, of course, was at it again on Thursday night, eliciting a vast and telling silence from CBC members with racist incitement against ‘Satanic Jews’.

The 116th Congress opened this week with little fanfare in the Senate, where all eyes were on whether there was still some hope a partial government shutdown could be prevented or at least concluded quickly. Things were very different in the House of Representatives, where a change in control led to a lot of children running around and pumping their fists in celebration. I do mean children literally — I’m not trying to characterize the Democrat-controlled House and its 101 new members as juvenile, even if that day one called the president a ‘motherfucker’ (Rashida Tlaib) and another taunted Republicans on Twitter with ‘Don’t hate me cause you ain’t me, fellas’ (Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez — who else?).

Like all stereotypes, the “sneaky Jesuit” is truer than not. And as a practicing Catholic, I’m grateful to the Society of Jesus for its work refining the art of equivocation. It’s gotten me out of several difficult conversations with housemates without outright lying, such as: “Who drank the last of the Maker’s Mark?” Not me! (It wasn’t the last, after all. There are thousands more bottles all over the world.) So, defenders of the Jesuit priest Patrick Conroy aren’t wrong when they condemn Speaker Paul Ryan, who recently dismissed the Congressional chaplain for being “too political”.