Posted on by rjonakait

Panama Redux

The Republicans almost produced a government shutdown again and may have merely postponed it for a few months. As a result, the Speaker of the House may be out in the cold in several weeks and the GOP may then show its fractures even more clearly. While this brouhaha was going on, Trump was talking about seizing the Panama Canal. This all brings to mind my previous post about the Panama Canal treaties, which I have reproduced below.

Knowledgeable people find the roots of the Republican Party’s current dysfunction in the hyperpartisanship practiced by Newt Gingrich when he became Speaker of the House in 1995. Others find tentacles spreading from the Tea Party movement, which emerged in 2009 and brought conspiracy theories into mainstream politics. But seeds were planted twenty years earlier with the now largely forgotten battle over the Panama Canal treaties. In his book, Drawing the Line at the Big Ditch: The Panama Canal Treaties and the Rise of the Right (2008), Adam Clymer explains how the fight over the Panama Canal Treaties helped fuel the rise of the modern Right.

Both treaties were signed in 1977. One treaty gave the United States the right to use force to assure that the canal would remain open to ships of all nations. The second treaty gave Panama control over the canal starting in 2000.

In order to take effect, the treaties not only had to be signed by the leaders of Panama and the United States. They also had to be ratified by appropriate bodies within those countries. After Panama did so in a plebiscite, a political battle ensued in the United States Senate over their ratifications. According to Clymer, this led to the emergence of Richard Viguerie, a founder of modern conservatism, the use of direct-mail marketing, and the rise of single-issue PACs designed to raise money and defeat moderate Republicans.

Although it was President Jimmy Carter who signed the pacts, the negotiations had started under President Nixon. The treaties were thought desirable because they gave America the right to assure the canal’s neutrality, and they removed a flashpoint for much of Latin America, and Panama in particular, by giving Panama control over the canal. Those supporting the treaties maintained that they would increase the security of the canal by helping to remove the threats of guerrilla attacks, which were almost impossible for America and Panama to prevent. 

The treaties were backed by prominent conservatives, including Henry Kissinger and William Buckley, but they were also attacked by other conservatives in near-hysterical terms. Opponents maintained that this was a surrender of American sovereignty, and furthermore, the military leader of Panama was pro-Communist. Marxists would control the canal and Panama, and the harm to the U.S. as a result would be disastrous.

What is surprising to a modern surveyor of the political scene is that some Senators supported the treaty simply because they thought it was the right thing to do even though they knew that their ratification votes would harm them politically. The single-issue PACs targeted some of these Senators, and, through direct-mail marketing (enter Richard Viguerie), inflamed a cadre of voters. Republicans who supported the treaties were defeated in primaries when they stood for reelection. Their overall record did not matter. Their vote on this one issue doomed their political careers. On the other hand, Ronald Reagan opposed the Treaty, and some, including Bill Buckley, maintained that the treaty controversy helped elect Reagan president.

This issue is now largely forgotten even though its aftermath continues to affect the United States. A lesson from the controversy has been absorbed, even if that lesson’s source is not remembered. Republican politicians now fear that if they don’t toe some single-issue lines, a portion of conservatives will target them and defeat them in the primaries. The result is that the politicians cannot develop nuanced positions; compromises are verboten. Instead, the “wrong” stance on individual issues can result in a primary defeat even if the politician accepts the conservative line on other matters. If I don’t completely accept the NRA’s positions, I may be defeated in the primary. If I adopt a moderate stance on abortion, I may be defeated in the primaries. If I have concerns about tax cuts, I may be, in today’s terms, “primaried.” And so on. The result is a lockstep, hard-right conservatism. Back in 1978, some conservative Senators studied a complex situation and decided that a ratification vote for the Panama Canal treaties was in the best interests of the country. What is remembered is not that their position was right, but that some lost their political careers as a result.

History, of course, has shown the proponents to be correct. The Canal functions just fine. Panama is not a hotbed of anti-American Communism. Those who were wrong, however, did not pay a price for their belief; they continued in office. And most of us have forgotten the debate.

In what now seems impossible, Democrats and Republicans joined together to ratify the treaties. Fifty-two Democrats and sixteen Republicans voted for ratification, while ten Democrats and twenty-two Republicans voted against. We have seen little of such bipartisanship since the Panama Canal treaties. On the other hand, since that 1977 controversy we have seen many conservatives benefit even when proved wrong.

The Republican party has been on a forty-year path to its present dysfunction.

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I Am my Own Ancestor

The Jonakait family has not been particularly interested in family history. When I reported that a grade school classmate bragged that Abe Lincoln was somewhere in his background, my father responded, “And if he looked hard enough, he would also find a horse thief in the family tree.” My mother told me that when she was asked to fill out a form as a schoolgirl about her ethnicity, her father replied, “It’s none of their damn business. Just tell them your family is New England Yankee.”

Although none of my immediate family has studied our ancestry, one of my mother’s seven (or eight?) sisters produced an extensive family tree. My mother’s maiden name was Dewey and the tree placed its roots back to 1600 England. My maternal grandmother, who died long before I was born, was a Clement, whose roots went back to ancient England and Holland. The chart claimed that the progenitor Deweys came to America on the third or fourth boat after the Mayflower. That amused me. The passengers on the Mayflower are well documented as they might be for the next boat. I am not sure, however, that passenger manifests exist for later vessels. Who can prove you wrong if you claim the family came over in the late 1600s?

It is clear, however, that this side of my family is WASP. The tree-forming aunt did not appreciate it when I said, “You mean we are white, Anglo-Saxon, Protestant and came to America before 1700. And yet we are all poor. Is this something to be proud of? What does that say about our stock? Certainly we have no excuses for our lack of wealth.”

Another part of the family tree did interest me. A nineteenth century branch noted that a female ancestor lived in upstate New York and was named Freelove Dewey. I wonder how that played out for her.

I know little about my father’s parents, even though they lived in the flat above us on Tenth Street. I never discussed anything with my grandparents about their lives. I am confident, however, that my grandmother was born in what was then Germany but is now Poland. She came to this country when she was 16-18, I think. I never heard mention of any siblings or of her parents. I assume the teenager came alone, a trip in my youth I did not think much about. I know that she strongly disliked Germany, and although my father went to a Lutheran school, she also had disdain for the church.

My paternal grandfather was born in Pennsylvania to what I was told was a German immigrant family, but perhaps it was a Lithuanian family since the part of Pennsylvania where he was born had many Lithuanian immigrants. My grandfather’s family, legend has it, moved back to Germany, but my grandfather stayed in America. I have no idea how he ended up in Wisconsin or how he met my grandmother. I don’t know what he might have done before, but he I know that he worked in the Kohler Company factory for 35 years.

I have often been asked the derivation of the Jonakait name. Most times I answer that it is a corrupted Lithuanian name. Those who know better than I say that it has Lithuanian roots but is no longer Lithuanian. Those names almost invariably end in “as” or “us.” It is clear, however, that the name was changed before anyone came to the U.S. My theory: At one time Lithuania bordered what was then East Prussia in Germany. I think a Lithuanian family moved to East Prussia and the name became modified to become less Lithuanian and more German. I think of my father’s roots as German, not only because of the altered name. Lithuania is a Catholic country that had a significant Jewish population. East Prussia was Lutheran, and my grandfather identified as Lutheran. I believe he spoke Lithuanian, although I never heard it, but I know he spoke German with his friends and his wife. My father spoke some German, but no Lithuanian. I also think of Jonakait as German because when I have googled the name, I have found a few with the name or close to the name in Germany, almost always in eastern Germany, and none in Lithuania.

One thing is clear: there are few of us Jonakaits. Some are sprinkled around the country with slightly altered spellings—Jonakeit, Jonekait, etc.—but not many. Outside of my immediate family, I never met another Jonakait.

This lack of ancestral knowledge does not bother me. Even though I know that it can’t be entirely true, I want to think that I am my own creation. However, part of who I am surely came from my parents, and then part of who my parents were, surely came from their parents. So ancestry must make some difference. There is some truth in the Chinese proverb, “To forget one’s ancestors is to be a book without a source, a tree without a root.” It must be, however, the further you go back in the ancestral tree, the less influence today and the more irrelevance. I want to be judged on what I think and do, not on who my great grandparents were or weren’t. As Russian General Mikhail Skobeleff supposedly said, “I make little account of genealogical trees. Mere family never made a man great. Thought and deed, not pedigree, are the passports to enduring fate.” (He clearly didn’t live in 19th century England.) Andoche Junot, another general, this time Napoleonic French, when asked about his ancestry, put it more succinctly, “I know nothing about it. I am my own ancestor.”

But perhaps my true driving force on this topic was stated by a modern sage in a tweet: “I will never understand people’s fascination with their ancestry; isn’t knowing your current family bad enough?”

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First Sentences

“Three Lives & Company is a 650-square-foot bookshop on a corner in New York City’s West Village.” Evan Friss, The Bookshop: A History of the American Bookstore.

“I wonder if there isn’t a lot of bunkum in higher education?” Christopher Morley, Parnassus on Wheels.

“On the outskirts of Nashville, tucked between open pastures and suburban cul-de-sacs, stands a museum dedicated to the memory of Andrew Jackson.” Rebecca Nagle, By the Fire We Carry: The Generations-Long Fight for Justice on Native Land.

“So you have decided to commit a murder.” Rupert Holmes, Murder Your Employer: McMasters Guide to Homicide.

“Benjamin Franklin, forty-six years old in June 1752, strode into a field just north of the burgeoning village of Philadelphia.” Richard Munson, Ingenious: A Biography of Benjamin Franklin, Scientist.

“Neanderthals were prone to depression, he said.” Rachel Kushner, Creation Lake.

“When I was a very young man and became very successful in the movies very quickly, I harbored a notion that I had not earned my accomplishments, that I hadn’t done the requisite work, that it was all merely a fluke, that I didn’t deserve it.” Andrew McCarthy, Walking with Sam: A Father, a Son, and Five Hundred Miles Across Spain.

“As requested, they had all assembled in the Library before dinner.” Kate Atkinson, Death at the Sign of the Rook: A Jackson Brodie Book.

“It is predawn in Macon, Georgia, and at four o’clock, the city does not move.” Ilyon Woo, Master Slave Husband Wife.

“Alice and Emma, the two ducks, sat on the bank and watched the breeze crinkle the surface of the duck pond into a sort of blue and silver carpet.” Walter R. Brooks, Freddy and the Perilous Adventure (illustrated by Kurt Wiese).

“Florie’s Papa had sent a letter.” Jon Grinspan, The Age of Acrimony: How Americans Fought to Fix Their Democracy.

“No. Nup. That wouldn’t do. It reeked of PhD. This was meant to be read by normal people.” Geraldine Brooks, Horse.

“It is worse, much worse, than you think.” David Wallace-Wells, The Uninhabitable Earth: Life After Warming. (Thanks to Steve Newman)

“I learned of Samuel’s death two days before Christmas while standing in the doorway of my mother’s new home.” Dinaw Mengestu, Someone Like Us.

“The House of the Vampire arrived in 1907, with a pinch of Bram Stoker’s Dracula, a dash of Swinburne, and a major crush on Oscar Wilde.” Rachel Maddow, Prequel: An American Fight Against Fascism.

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Snippets

The famous definition says insanity is doing the same thing over and over expecting different results. I have been experiencing a variation of that:

I had hoped when Trump lost in 2020 that he would fade away. My hopes were not fulfilled. I had hoped that when he won in 2024, his increased experience would mean that he would show more knowledge and spew out less, how shall I put it, hooey. My hopes were not fulfilled. I had hoped that his supporters would now recognize the hooey and say something about it or, at least, not be taken in by it. But, of course, that didn’t happen.

I was reminded of this when a conservative website attacked the “Meet the Press” host for being deceptive in her interview with Trump. The president-elect told Kristen Welker that he planned to get rid of birthright citizenship. She responded that the 14th Amendment says, “All persons born in the United States are citizens.” The right-wingers rightfully called Welker out on this because she did not cite the 14th Amendment language that gives birthright citizenship to people born here only if they are “subject to the jurisdiction” of the United States. The conservative complaint about Welker, however, did not complain about Trump. For years he has said that he plans to eliminate birthright citizenship, but he still does not seem to know what the 14th Amendment says (or anything in the Constitution for that matter). He responded to Welker’s statement with a simple “Yeah.” You might have thought that he would immediately correct Welker, but he did not. Instead, he went on to say that we are the only country with birthright citizenship. That is hooey. He then went further and said that “if somebody sets a foot, just a foot, one foot, you don’t need two, on our land, ‘Congratulations you are now a citizen of the United States of the United States of America.’” That is so many plops of hooey that it is knee high. But while Welker was called out, the conservatives did not call out the person who will be president and has and will take an oath to the Constitution. I don’t think that I am insane, but I did foolishly hope for different results and more sanity.

When I watch “Antiques Roadshow,” I find out that I am much like many of the objects brought for appraisal—I have “condition issues.”

She was visibly upset when she came into his office. The teacher assumed that she was reacting to the election results from the day before, but he still asked. She said that she had helped her parents vote. She explained that they were born in China, and because they spoke little English, she was allowed to aid her mother and father in the voting booth. Each had voted for Trump. She started to cry in the teacher’s office, and between sobs said that after leaving the polls, she asked how they could do that. Did they not know what Trump would do to them if he could? Her mother responded, “At least he’s not Black.” The parents had been urging their daughter to go to a college near their Philadelphia home. The high school student said that she was now determined to go as far away as possible.

The spouse regularly seeks bargains for gasoline. She will wait a long time in line idling at Costco to save a few cents a gallon. When driving, it is amazing how many prices she spots, eagle-eying servicing stations. To the delight of all traveling in her vehicle, she comments, often with a surprised tone, on at least 90 percent of them. (I do confess that I might do something similar.)

The childhood death rate started to increase in 2019 before the Covid pandemic began and while Trump was president. It increased 18 percent between 2019 and 2021, which was fueled by more gun and drug deaths. Predictions about what happens in the next Trump presidency?

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(Not) The End of Democracy?

I owe him an apology. My nephew asked if I thought we had just had our last democratic election. I arrogantly, churlishly responded, “Why would you say that?” I acted as if the question was paranoid, misguided. It was not.

My initial response was driven by several factors. First, we have no indication in the recent election that the Trumpista crazies who became election officials did anything to throw the election in Trump’s favor such as skewing the vote counts. If this did not happen with Donald Trump running, it is unlikely to occur with another candidate. The loyalties of those who want to upset our democratic norms are not to the Republican Party specifically nor to conservatism in general, but rather to Trump, and Trump will not be the running next time. And, thus, I had reasoned that the threat to our democracy would be minimal.

The nephew countered: Did I really think that Trump would not be a candidate in 2028? I referenced Trump’s age. He will be 82 in  four years, if he survives that long. Even many Trumpistas will think he is too old to be president. In addition, many other Repubs want to be president and will work to prevent a fourth Trump run. And, then, of course, the Constitution forbids it. The opening clause of the Twenty-Second Amendment is as clear as anything in our national charter: “No person shall be elected to the office of President more than twice. . . .” Period. The end. I don’t see how even the most partisan Supreme Court justice could find a way around this unequivocal pronouncement. Trump won’t be running. And because he cares only about himself, not the Republican party or conservatism, Trump won’t be campaigning to overturn an election in which he is not a candidate. Without his efforts, we are unlikely to have fake electors or requests for changes in vote counts. So, I reasoned, Trump won’t be a candidate, nor will he be tampering with the election in 2028.

But then I had a horrific thought: What if Donald Trump, Jr. were a candidate? (Or Ivanka or maybe even Jared? Even the father couldn’t support Eric, could he?) Then take everything I said above off the table.

However, as I thought more about my uncharitable response to my nephew, I realized that true democratic elections require more than just an accurate vote count. They also need an active opposition and the free-flow of information. Those are threatened by the calls from Trump and his cronies and his nominees for retribution. Such retaliation will not only be a punishment for the past, but a deterrent for the future spread of ideas and information necessary for democratic elections.

It is important to note that the promised retribution is not for criminal conduct, or for any kind of illegal conduct; it is for speech. Speech. Kash Patel makes this clear when he says that he will “come after” the media for what they have said. While media may be first on his list, retribution against others will soon follow. And, of course, with threatened punishment for information and ideas, fewer will be willing to speak out. And democracy will suffer.

Will we have retribution for free speech, as Trump, Patel, and others desire? Certainly, harmful retaliation has become more likely because of the Supreme Court decisions giving once and future president Trump immunity forever — let me repeat, forever — from criminal and civil actions. While the Court-created exemption extends “only” to official actions, the Court’s vague definition of official action is incredibly broad and extends even to illegal conduct. The Court indicated that any presidential order to or conversation with anyone in the executive branch is an official act, and it garners immunity. This is so even if the command is to take an illegal action. In other words, Trump does not have to worry about criminal or civil liability for presidential orders to the Justice Department, the FBI, Homeland Security, and many other departments. (The Supreme Court immunity decisions do not address whether an executive branch official who performs an illegal act under a presidential order can be prosecuted. It would be a strange world, however, if the underling can be prosecuted but not the boss who issued the directive.)

Retribution does not have to be illegal to provide a powerful deterrent to a free society. Practically speaking, the executive branch can investigate whomever it wants for whatever reason it wants. If probable cause is found to believe that a person has committed a crime, that person can be prosecuted. Moreover, the federal criminal law is broad and often vague. Many, perhaps all, of us have committed crimes—ever take a pencil home from work?—and if enough resources are put into a retributive investigation, many people could be charged with a crime. Of course, such charges will deter others from criticizing or opposing Trump and his acolytes. And democracy will suffer.

Retributive investigations will deter freedoms even without prosecutions. Investigations by themselves can lead to onerous demands for documents and testimony. The target has to bear the costs in time and money, which can reach hundreds of thousands, even millions, of dollars in fees and costs. Few organizations, much less individuals, can afford such harassment. Many of us will decide that it is better to remain silent rather than face the possibility of such retribution. And democracy will suffer.

It is not just investigations and prosecutions that can deter free speech and undermine democratic elections. Peter Hegseth promises to remove wokeness from the military services. From what I have seen from other conservatives, the goal would be to fire, or at least not promote, some officers, not for their actions or performances, but because they have spoken out in favor of diversity and inclusion. If this is what combating wokeness means, it seeks the suppression of ideas in the very same way as the promises of retribution from Trump and Patel do. When ideas are punished, democracy suffers.

The coming years can provide other dangers to our democracy. Trump has said that he will pardon the January 6 mayhem makers. This undermines our democracy by indicating that there might not be penalties for obstructing a fair election. Trump has been urged to invoke the Insurrection Act. Perhaps we will discuss that Act someday, but let’s just say now that the vagueness of that eighteenth-century legislation could lead to alarming results.

And it is not just the Trump administration that is concerning. There is the anti-democratic institution of the Supreme Court. It is frightening what it might do in the coming years.

I am not saying that we are about to lose our democratic elections and the rule of law, but my glib response to my nephew was injudicious. I am no longer quite so certain that our democracy is safe.

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Twelve Ways to Win

In the last post, “77 Million,” I wrote that the real story of the last presidential election was not the switch to Trump, which was not large, but the “lost votes,” the many who had voted for Biden but did not vote at all this year. A story in a Pennsylvania news source neatly illustrates the point. A Philadelphia district that is overwhelmingly Black had shifted to Trump, but in that district Trump had gotten only three more votes than he had in 2020. Harris, however, had received 81 fewer ballots than Biden had four years earlier.

After the previous post, a friend said that he agreed with my analysis but wondered what my explanation was for the lost votes. I thought more about that and realized that I did not have a single overarching explanation but only a collection of partial possibilities. Here are some of them.

One. Donald Trump is a remarkable politician. His dominant qualities—liar, ignoramus, bully, fearmonger, bad economist, embarrassing dancer—should make him a laughingstock, but despite these characteristics, or perhaps because of them, he connects deeply with a broad swath of Americans. They are devoted to him like teenage girls to a K-pop boy band. There’s a major difference, however: American devotion to him has not been a passing fancy; we don’t seem to grow out of it. Other presidents—Reagan, Clinton, Obama—had devoted admirers, but not like Trump. To me the attraction is inexplicable, but I recognize his draw.

Two. Americans have short memories, and Trump benefited. In 2020, almost all voters held strong and accurate images of the Trump presidency. Despite the pandemic, the economy was about the same as it was under Obama, with some indicators stronger and some weaker than in the previous four years. (E.g., inflation was low under Trump, but it was even lower under Obama.) However, all was not well in the country. Crime had started to increase under Trump which was disturbing. Life expectancy had started to fall even apart from the pandemic. The border was a problem, and Trump had failed to fix it. Even Obama had deported more people than Trump had. Trump’s wall seemed a joke. His attempts to erase the Affordable Care Act were disturbing. Deficits skyrocketed. He played footsy with dictators, which was disturbing. His many grift-like actions were disturbing. A lot of things were disturbing, but that was all forgotten four years later. Moreover, of all the bad things that were predicted to happen because of his four years did not happen. For example, Biden continued the China tariffs that liberals had decried ruinous. Biden continued Trump border policies that were labeled ineffectual and heartless. More and more politicians supported the border wall. Trump was still the same Trump, but to many he did not look as bad as he had in 2020.

Three. Americans are not only forgetful; they are ignorant. Americans want simple answers, and Trump benefited. The border problem has many causes. We need a reform of our immigration laws. We need more border agents. We need more immigration judges. The problem is fueled by criminal gangs and political unrest in various countries. The problem is exacerbated by poor economies in various countries. It is intensified by the wider spread of media coverage that tells more and more people that they can find a better life if they can get to the U.S. And so on. Americans don’t want to confront such complexities. They don’t want to concede that the problem has been years in the making. They want a simple answer. And to many, the border problem is simply the fault of the Biden-Harris administration. (When conservatives refer to 2017 to 2021, they never say the Trump-Pence administration.)

More simplistic thinking follows: If the border were tightened, for example, we could tackle our fentanyl problem. (We have already forgotten that Trump promised to solve the fentanyl crisis when he ran in 2016.) Inflation. Well, inflation was the consequence of many complex events, but Americans didn’t want to understand that. Neither did we want to know that many developed countries had a worse inflation problem than we had, and that perhaps our inflation, bad as it was, was not so bad. Americans did not want to hear that gas and oil trade in an international market, that supply chains are international, and that the U.S. government does not control these markets. Instead, we want a simple answer, and that answer was that inflation was the fault of the Biden-Harris administration.

Four. Fear sells, and Trump benefited. Many campaigns have tried to make the electorate fearful about the consequences of the other side’s actions. In the first election I paid attention to, JFK stressed a “missile gap” at a time when nuclear concerns were high. (That gap seemed to disappear once he took office.) This year Trump and his acolytes did a much better job of spreading fear than the other side—fear of crime generally, fear of immigrant crime more specifically, fear of immigration, fear of fentanyl, fear of transgender people. That last fear should not be underestimated. For most of the election season, I was in Pennsylvania, a swing state for the presidential election with a closely contested Senate seat and several close House races. It seemed as if every third political ad — and the ads ran nonstop — by those on the right brought up Democratic support for trans people. They damned Harris for supporting government payment for gender-transforming operations. They hinted that Democratic candidates were going to allow trans people to play girls’ sports and use girls’ bathrooms. This country may have become more accepting of gays, but many, many Americans see trans people as unsettling and dangerous. Trump and his supporters benefited.

Five. The media has had a fixation on Trump, and Trump benefited. News sources, including, or perhaps especially, liberal ones reported at length whatever Trump was doing or saying. This was not totally surprising. In the run-up to the election, Trump was on the receiving end of multiple lawsuits including his conviction of 34 felony counts in New York. Nevertheless, this coverage overwhelmed coverage of Biden’s accomplishments (how many of us can summarize what is in the Inflation Reduction Act?) and explanations for problems like rising prices or the border. Since memory-impaired Americans seemed less concerned about the bizarre and dangerous behavior of Trump in 2024 than they were in 2020, the media did Trump a favor by focusing on him and not other things.

Six. We don’t know how to handle misinformation, and that benefited Trump, too. A higher percentage of misinformation came from the right than the left, and listeners ate it up.

Seven. Liberals and Democrats are poor at messaging. Who named it the Inflation Reduction Act? I know. I know. It was meant to reduce inflation, and it certainly did help. But it was hard not to hear it as a laugh line when the cost of milk and eggs and gas and mortgages was unusually high. Why didn’t they change the name and start focusing on all the good the Act accomplished?

Eight. But perhaps the chief cause of Trump’s (narrow) victory came throughout Biden’s term. While Americans were concerned about the border and inflation, Biden seemed indifferent to those problems. He might have been able to do little or nothing about them, but he should have appeared more concerned about them. He did not. And Trump won.

Similarly, every third ad against Harris I saw featured her being asked what she would have done differently from Biden. The response was the blank look of a doe in the headlights with the answer of “nothing.” It was powerful each time, and I saw it many, many times. Such a question had to be anticipated. How could she not have had a better immediate response? (Later on — too later on — she did.) There was also the never-ending clip of her crowing about the success of “Bidenomics.” Democrats should have been ready to explain what they were hoping to accomplish and what they had accomplished. They did not. And Trump won.

Nine. In the eyes of many Americans the Democratic Party does not stand for anything, and Trump benefited. Worse: Democrats were seen as the party that stood for trans rights, defunding the police, DEI, and critical race theory. But what else? For many, Democrats didn’t stand for anything that benefited “ordinary” people. Biden’s support for the United Auto Workers made no dint in this perception.

Ten. Covid hurt Trump in 2020. It helped him this year. His inconsistent and bizarre reactions to the pandemic were fresh four years ago. Now many have selective memories of that time. Unless personally affected, few seem to remember that one million American died. Instead, today Covid is remembered by many as a time of unnecessary school closings that harmed kids and strained parents; of unnecessary face masks; of governmental overreach on vaccines and social distancing. These are all reasons to distrust the government, and Trumps surrogates did a great job of reminding us of this distrust. At the same time, some see the Democrats as the ones who believe in big government of the sort that made Covid more hellish. Trump benefited.

Eleven. Many are not ready for a woman to be the Commander-in-Chief. We cannot discount that this country continues to have a strong strain of misogyny. Trump benefited big time from it.

Twelve. What do you think contributed? I’d love to hear them.

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77 Million

Before the election, a post on a neighborhood social media site praised the Electoral College. That spurred me on to write about that institution on this blog. However, I also responded directly to the post saying that it would be interesting to see the reaction if a conservative presidential candidate won the popular vote but lost the Electoral College. I averred further that we were unlikely to find out because the probability was low that a conservative would win the most votes. The original poster replied that he did not care about the popular vote as long as Trump won. After the election, he gloated that the “conservative” Donald Trump had won the popular vote.

I do confess that I was wrong in suggesting that Trump could not win the most votes, but it was a victory with caveats.

The news analyses shortly after the election were often about groups that had swung to Trump giving him his win. I saw stories indicating that Texas Hispanics shifted to Trump as did more voters in New York City, and that young men went for Trump at a higher rate than young women did for Harris. And so on. The implications were that Trump’s victory was a landslide demonstrating the country’s hard shift to the right.

Is that so?

Trump did win the most votes, garnering at the latest count 76.8 million votes, but it appears that he did not obtain a majority. A few more votes may trickle in, but he did not get above 50%. Harris was not far behind, with 48.3% of the vote. If the country has shifted right, the tilt is less than that of the Pisa tower. In terms of the popular vote, this was the closest election since 2000. The Electoral College may have been a landslide but the popular vote was not, and it is noteworthy that Trump won some of the swing states by tiny margins.

Trump did get 2.5 million more votes than his 2020 total of 74.2 million, but the U.S. population increased by about five million during that span, or 1.5%. Trump’s votes should have increased by 1.1 million from 2020 to 2024 merely because of population growth. He did somewhat better than that and shifts to him are outcomes worth analyzing. But there was a more significant factor.

The real difference in the election was not the collection of new Trump voters but the loss of those who did not vote for Harris. Biden in 2020 got over 81 million votes; Harris had about five million fewer. While some of Harris’s shortfall may have voted for Trump, most of them did not. Many voters, in essence, disappeared, and Trump was the beneficiary. And that, not the new Trump voters, is really the big story.

Many touted the importance of the election, so it is somewhat surprising that the turnout was less by at least a couple of percentage points, than it was four years ago. Ballotpedia.org says the turnout in 2020 was 66.6 % of eligible voters and this year it was three points less.

The fluctuating size of the electorate is a complicated American story. We may pledge allegiance to our democracy or republic, whatever your ideology dictates, but we don’t always value the vote as much as our patriotic proclamations imply. I learned from The Age of Acrimony: How Americans Fought to Fix Their Democracy (2021) by Jon Grinspan that the turnout in the 1896 presidential election was 79.3% of eligible voters. But in the early twentieth century, the percentages fell, bottoming out in 1924 at 48.8%. (Grinspan suggests several reasons for the decline. Surprisingly to me, turnout fell most in the states that had adopted the secret ballot, a late nineteenth-century innovation.)

The percentage of eligible voters who vote has changed throughout our history, and the recent drop perhaps indicates the most important conclusion from the last election: A conservative can win the popular vote if the number of voters, by hook or by crook, is lowered.

Posted on by rjonakait

A Direct Election Would Be Different

The person who gets the most votes in next week’s presidential election may not be our next president. With our Electoral College, if a candidate loses by large margins in some states but narrowly wins states with 270 electoral votes, that person can win the presidency while losing the nationwide vote. “We the people” then takes on an ironic twist.

We should not assume, however, that if we directly elected the president that the winner of the popular vote in our present system would necessarily have won even without the Electoral College. Incentives to vote would be different. Campaigns would be different. And voting rules might change.

With a direct election, all voters would have an equal incentive to vote because all votes would matter equally. That does not exist now. An additional 50,000 votes for Trump or Harris in New York or California or Missouri or many other states would change nothing under our present system. There is little incentive to vote for president in a “safe” state. However, with the direct election of the president, voters in safe states would have more incentive to go to the polls than now. We would probably have more voters in some states than we do now.

The incentives for campaigners would also change. Now, candidates are mostly concerned with the swing states. A one percent increase for Harris or Trump could determine all the electoral votes from Pennsylvania or Wisconsin. However, a one percent increase for a candidate in the Badger State is about 30,000 votes. Now a one percent increase for a candidate in California changes nothing. All of the electoral votes will go to Harris with or without the increase. However, such a California increase means about 100,000 more nationwide popular votes. If the popular vote controlled, candidates would focus on all of the country not just a few states.

Campaign promises would also become different. Think about Iowa and the primaries. Don’t all candidates swear to support ethanol because they think defending the corn crop is high on the list of Iowa voters? If Michigan is viewed as a swing state, candidates appearing in Detroit or Battle Creek can be expected to make promises that especially appeal to Michigan voters. In safe states, such as Alabama, Mississippi, New York, California, or Louisiana, candidates do not now have to make the kind of pandering promises they make in swing states. If, however, each vote truly mattered as much in Mississippi as in Michigan, candidates would have the same incentive to pander in both places.

States would have different incentives than now for setting voter standards. We have some national voter standards. The Constitution guarantees that Blacks, women, and eighteen-year-olds can vote and that there can’t be a poll tax. Federal law says that only citizens can vote. But much that affects how many people will vote is left to the states. For example, states have different laws concerning the disenfranchisement of convicted felons. A few states allow all to vote. Some states permanently bar convicts from voting. Some states prohibit those in prison from voting. And so on. As a result, a higher percentage of the population can be eligible to vote in State A than in State B. And of course, states differ on such things as when the polls are open, who can use a mail-in ballot, rules on registration, and identity requirements, all of which can affect voter turnout, which would be important in a truly national election. Now many states do things to make voting harder with the knowledge that fewer voters will not affect the state’s power in the Electoral College. Fewer voters, however, will negatively affect the state’s power if the presidential election went to the winner of the popular vote. At least some states might reconsider their voting requirements if the Electoral College were abolished.

Posted on by rjonakait

Snippets

It’s been a long time. In 1841, fifty-two years after the Constitution went into effect, John Tyler became the first vice-president to ascend to a vacant presidency. Only two dozen years later, Andrew Johnson succeeded the assassinated Abraham Lincoln. In 1881, Vice-President Chester A. Arthur became President as the result of the murder of James A. Garfield. Two decades later, Theodore Roosevelt became President because of the assassination of William McKinley. Twenty-two years later, Calvin Coolidge ascended to the presidency after Warren G. Harding’s death. After another twenty-two years, Harry S. Truman became President upon the death of FDR. Eighteen years later, in 1963, Lyndon B. Johnson became President after the assassination of John F. Kennedy. And only eleven years later, after the resignation of Richard Nixon, Vice-President Gerald Ford became President. Since then, however, no Veep has moved up to a vacant presidency, the longest stretch in our history since Tyler took the high office. With the possibility of an aged president who seems to indicate declining cognitive powers and a gun-toting population, are we due again for a vice-present to become president?

The Twenty-fifth Amendment to the Constitution lists procedures for declaring a president unable to carry out the powers and duties of the office. The Vice-President then becomes Acting President. Rumor has it that people around JD Vance, perhaps funded by Peter Thiel, are already studying this provision so if Trump wins, six months later Vance can be president.

A perceptive analyst said: “The people for public trusts are the people who can be trusted in private.”

Some Trump supporters, who, when asked about some of Trump’s problematic, sometimes frightening statements, say that Trump does not really mean it when he says that he will use the army against Americans, get rid of Obamacare, impose 100% or higher tariffs, etc. In other words, these Trumpistas support Trump because theyse don’t believe what he says. Amazing.

“The whole problem with the world is that fools and fanatics are always so certain of themselves, and wiser people so full of doubts.” Bertrand Russell.

I have friends and acquaintances who ask how, at this point, anyone could vote for Trump. Many of these people, however, would find it close to impossible to vote for a Republican even if the Democratic candidate were Bob Menendez or Eric Adams. Of course, there are many people who truly support Trump, but there are many who simply can’t vote for a Democrat. Some are voters who we might call hold-your-nose-and-vote-for-Trump, but since Trump heads the Republican ticket, they will vote for him. The crucial time is not now. It was in 2016 when he became the Republican standard bearer. Trump did get more votes than any other single candidate in the 2016 Republican primaries, but he did not get a majority of the ballots cast. However, under Republican rules, he got the majority of the delegates. Eight years ago, a majority of Republicans did not want Trump, and since then, a majority of Americans overall have not wanted him. But he may be our president again.

Posted on by rjonakait

The World Series of the Electoral College

A recent post on a local social media site drew on an analogy to the World Series to defend the Electoral College. The poster referred to a decades-old article recently reprinted in Discover magazine that discusses the theories of Alan Natapoff, a physicist, who favored voting by districts instead of in one mass. Natapoff, thus, seemed to be defending the Electoral College over a nationwide popular vote, as the poster clearly did.

The baseball analogy refers to the 1960 World Series where the New York Yankees won three blowouts but lost four close games to the Pittsburgh Pirates. The Yankees scored more runs, but the Pirates won the series. The poster and the article (https://www.discovermagazine.com/the-sciences/from-the-archive-math-against-tyranny) both noted, “Runs must be grouped in a way that wins games, just as popular votes must be grouped in a way that wins states.” That was fair, they maintain. “A champion should be able to win at least some of the tough, close contests by every means available–bunting, stealing, brilliant pitching, dazzling plays in the field–and not just smack home runs against second-best pitchers. A presidential candidate worthy of office, by the same logic, should have broad appeal across the whole nation, and not just play strongly on a single issue to isolated blocs of voters.” Natapoff decided that “nine-year-olds could explain to a Martian why the Yankees lost in 1960, and why it was right. And both have the same underlying abstract principle.”

There is much wrong with this reasoning. If the 60s Yankees had won the fourth game in another blowout (they scored nine runs in the final game), they would have been recognized as champs without having won a close game. Moreover, winning single games or their equivalents is not always the rule in sports. Cricket, e.g., has multi-day contests. The winner is not decided by who “won” each day, but by the total score. Had it been set up this way, baseball could be a contest decided inning by inning, or football quarter by quarter, but those are not the rules of the game. The rules are not inherent in the way the game is played and certainly not divinely inspired. They are man-made and can be changed. At one time the team that had the most wins after 154 games was in the World Series. The end. That is no longer true. The season is now longer and there are multiple playoff rounds that allow, many believe, for the possibility that a lesser team can become champions.

The poster quoting Natapoff asserts that the “popular votes must be grouped in a way that wins states.” That is not a requirement in all our elections. E.g., we use the total vote to pick our governors and don’t require the victor to have won a majority of counties or parishes. It is only because of the Electoral College that winning a state is required in our presidential elections. (I have no idea what is meant when the poster says, “A presidential candidate worthy of office should have broad appeal across the whole nation, and not just play strongly on a single issue to isolated blocs of voters.” I don’t know of a successful candidate who runs on only one issue, and when I look at the maps that will be produced of red and blue states because of our Electoral College, I see something like isolated blocs of voters. We would not have that with a nationwide vote.)

I seldom respond to any posts except occasionally to point out easily checkable misinformation. (For example, I might respond: Fact-checking sites have made it clear that FEMA workers are not eating the cats and dogs of isolated North Carolina hill folk.) I did, however, reply to this post by saying, “It would be interesting to see the reaction if a conservative won the popular vote but lost the electoral college. We are unlikely to find out. A conservative winning the popular vote???” Almost immediately someone who had already declared the post “great” said, “I couldn’t give a damn what the popular vote says as long as Trump is elected.”

This comment, of course, typifies why discussions of the way we select our president are fruitless. Alan Natapoff may have been sincerely exploring the best way to hold our elections, but most of the rest of us only want reasons for a system that will select our preferred candidate. Electoral College discussions these days are partisan ones with conservatives, like the poster, defending the Electoral College. They want the status quo because they believe it favors Republicans while reformers believe Democrats would benefit from a national popular vote. Recent history fuels these positions. Twice in the last generation we have inaugurated presidents who did not get the largest popular vote, and both were Republicans.

We did not always have this particular partisan divide. In the summer of 1968, polls indicated that 66 percent of Republicans and 64 percent of Democrats believed that the Electoral College should be replaced with a national popular vote. After the election where the popular vote was close, but the Electoral College was not, 80 percent of Americans supported changing the electoral system. In 1969, the House passed by a wide majority (339 to 70) a constitutional amendment to select the president by popular vote. The proposal, however, opposed strongly by Senators from small states, could not get the necessary two-thirds vote in the upper house.

If such an amendment could not make it through the Senate when the populace overwhelmingly favored it, a similar amendment has no chance today. Instead, those who wish to retain or change the Electoral College search for plausible reasons for their positions. The standpatters often refer to the goals of the founding generations, which, I am positive, did not use Mickey Mantle sports analogies. Many defenders contend that the point to the Electoral College was to preserve the powers of the small states in the presidential selection. Reading such comments, I pulled out The Records of the Federal Convention of 1787, edited by Max Farrand, and The Federalist Papers to see what these sources said about the discussion over the methods of choosing the president.

The issue was debated again and again in the Constitutional Convention of 1787. The delegates would agree to a method, but potential flaws in that method would circulate. A different scheme would be proposed and problems with the new proposal would be pointed out. This merry-go-round continued until near the end of the convention when the delegates finally settled on the Electoral College as it appears in the original Constitution.

The convention first voted to have Congress choose the President, but criticisms soon emerged. In James Madison’s words: “If the Legislature elect, it will be the work of intrigue, of cabal, and of faction: it will be like the election of a pope by a conclave of cardinals; real merit will rarely be the title to the appointment.” Madison and others maintained that an Electoral College, however selected, would obviate some of the concerns of a congressional selection. The electors would be chosen for only one purpose and would gather just once. In the adopted version they would not meet together in one place but in the separate states so that there would be little opportunity for cabals, intrigues, and foreign influence. The congressional selection of the president, they said, would also upset a basic goal of the Constitution — the separation of powers — since the President would be beholden to Congress for his selection.

Many other methods of choosing the president were proposed and rejected: The state governors should select the President; electors selected by Congress should make the choice; electors drawn by lot from Congress should choose the President. Madison did state that the “fittest” way to select the President was to have a direct election, but he then noted two problems: “The first arose from the disposition of the people to prefer a Citizen of their own State, and the disadvantage this would throw on the smaller States.” Madison did not find this problem insurmountable and said “that some expedient might be hit upon that would obviate it.” The next speaker, however, differed with Madison’s optimism by saying, “The objection drawn from the different size of the States, is unanswerable. The Citizens of the largest states would invariably prefer the Candidate within the State; and the largest States would invariably have the man.” The delegates thought that a direct election would prejudice the smaller states, but what concerned them was that candidates from small states could not get elected. (Reminder. In 2016, Trump was a lifelong resident of a large state, but New York overwhelmingly voted against the hometown boy. Perhaps the Founders were not familiar with the adage, “Familiarity breeds contempt.”)

Madison also maintained that a direct vote would undermine the South. Many northern states had eased the traditional requirement that only white male citizens who owned real property could vote by allowing white males who paid taxes to also have the franchise. Thus, a higher proportion of people in the North could vote than in the South, and the South’s power would be diluted by a direct election. The Electoral College would prevent this calamitous possibility. It was not suggested that extension of the franchise might benefit the South as well.

Today many assert that the founders were protecting the small states by giving them a slightly greater number of electors than was justified by their populations. However, the founders addressed the small-state problem in a different way. The concern was that a candidate from a small state, even if worthy, would inevitably lose because the large-state electors would vote for one of their own. The solution: each elector would vote for two people, one of whom must not be from the elector’s state. The delegates thought that while one vote may go to the home state favorite, the second vote would be for the person seen as the best in the rest of the country. If that person was from a small state, he could be elected with a collection of second-choice votes.

The Founders added another “accommodation to the anxiety of the smaller States,” as Madison wrote in a letter in 1823. If no person got a majority of the appointed electors, then the House of Representatives would choose the President from the five highest on the electoral list with each state having one vote. The largest and smallest states would be equal in this process, which, according to Alexander Hamilton in The Federalist Papers, would be “a case which it cannot be doubted will sometimes, if not frequently, happen.”

The constitutional convention delegates knew that the large states would dominate the Electoral College, and they did. Luther Martin writing to the Maryland Legislature after the draft Constitution was promulgated but before it was adopted said that the “large states have a very undue influence in the appointment of the President.” Gouverneur Morris, a delegate to the Constitutional Convention, writing in 1803, noted that it was recognized that the large states would dominate the Electoral College. Only if the matter went to the House of Representatives did the small states have a substantial voice in the presidential selection.

The major effect of the original Electoral College was not to give power to the small states but to the slaveholding states. Madison had said that a direct presidential election was “fittest,” but it would harm the South, citing the more “diffusive” franchise in the North, but the Virginian slaveholder continued with the curious comment that with a direct election the South would “have no influence on the score of the Negroes. The substitution of electors obviated this difficulty….” The “difficulty” was avoided by basing the number of electors on representation in the House of Representatives. The apportionment of the House, of course, incorporated the three-fifths clause where that percentage of slaves was used in the allocation of House seats.

The three-fifths clause was, therefore, incorporated into the Electoral College giving extra power to the large slaveholding states. The first census in 1790 found that New York had a free white population of 313,000 and North Carolina had a free white population of 289,000. Each state had the same electors, however—twelve—after that first census. While New York had 21,324 slaves, North Carolina had 100,572.  However, when 60% of the slaves were included to determine representation in the House, North Carolina’s “population” was larger than New York’s. South Carolina had a free white population of 139,000, but New Jersey had thirty thousand more. Even so, South Carolina had twelve electors and New Jersey eleven. South Carolina had 107,094 slaves and New Jersey 11,423. (New Jersey is the starkest example of why Madison feared for the effect on the South were there to be a direct election of the President. As Madison had to know, New Jersey alone among the states then allowed white women to vote, and its total vote might have been twice that of South Carolina’s. With the Electoral College as adopted, even though South Carolina had the smaller white population, it had more power in the presidential selection than did New Jersey.)

Virginia had a free white population of 441,000; Pennsylvania had 422,000, about a four percent difference. Virginia had 292,627 slaves and Pennsylvania had 3,731. Even though the enslaved people could not vote, because of them Virginia had forty percent more electors than Pennsylvania—twenty-one to fifteen.

A direct vote for President would have lessened the power of the South; instead, the Electoral College as adopted magnified it. Founders recognized and said that large states would dominate the vote in the Electoral College, but Southern states would have special influence in picking a President because of the peculiar way in which slaves were counted.

The Founders did not protect small states via the Electoral College, and their sop of requiring electors to vote for two people with one not from the state of the elector proved to be laughable. The Framers in adopting the Electoral College did not foresee the rise of political parties even though parties were in place only a few years after the Constitution was adopted. Partisanship was evident in the first contested presidential election, after Washington retired in 1796.* By then, two men ran as a team with one running for President and the other as Vice-President. The country made it through 1796 without a major problem, but the Electoral College caused a crisis in 1800.

Thomas Jefferson and Aaron Burr ran as a Republican team in the presidential election. The widespread understanding was that Jefferson was running for President and Burr for Vice President. John Adams, the Federalist incumbent, ran with his vice-presidential running mate Thomas Pinckney against Jefferson and Burr. Jefferson got seventy-three electoral votes to Adams sixty-five, making Jefferson the apparent victor, but of course, because each elector had two votes, Burr received the same number of electoral votes as Jefferson. With two candidates yoked together by party affiliation, it was not a surprise that they would get the same number of electoral votes. A tie, which was not foreseen by the Framers, was close to inevitable with the rise of political parties.

The selection of the President in 1800 went to the lame-duck Federalist-dominated House, even though the Federalists had lost the election. That losing party had to decide which Republican, Jefferson or Burr, was the lesser evil. Thirty-six ballots later, Jefferson became the third President. And we got the Twelfth Amendment to fix this major flaw. That Amendment required electors to cast separate votes for President and Vice-President.**

At least when it came to the method of selecting the president, the Framers’ wisdom was faulty. Perhaps there are good reasons today to have the Electoral College but not because the founding generation created a perfect system. It did not protect the integrity or sovereignty of the small states. Our first six presidents all came from large states. Four of them were Virginians. This was not a surprise for the original Constitution through the Electoral College gave the major slaveholding states the dominant power in picking the President.

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*The Framers also did not foresee that electoral votes would be allocated by a winner-takes-all approach where the candidate with the most votes in each state would get all of that state’s electoral votes. That development, however, did not come quite as quickly as the rise of political parties. In 1796, even though Jefferson won the most votes in Pennsylvania, Virginia, and North Carolina, one elector in each of those states voted for John Adams instead, and those three votes made Adams president. He received 71 electoral votes to Jefferson’s 68. Jefferson received the second most votes. Adams’s running mate, Thomas Pinckney, garnered 59 electoral votes. Thus, under the electoral system then in place, Jefferson became Vice-President under his political enemy, Adams, an uncomfortable result.

**Elections might be more fun if we still had the original electoral scheme as indicated by Alexander Hamilton’s devious actions in 1796. Although Adams and Hamilton were both Federalists, Hamilton did not want Adams to become President. Supposedly Hamilton approached electors in states Jefferson had won and urged those electors, after voting for Jefferson, to give their second vote to Thomas Pinckney. Hamilton was hoping that Jefferson-Pinckney votes plus Adams-Pinckney votes would give Pinckney the most electoral votes and the Presidency. Hamilton’s machinations seem to have borne some fruit, most notably in South Carolina where both Jefferson and Pinckney received eight electoral votes. The scheme failed because in several states that Adams won, the electors divided their second votes between Pinckney and other candidates or did not give any second votes to Pinckney. For example, Adams received nine votes in Connecticut, but Pinckney got only four, with five votes going to John Jay. New Hampshire gave six votes to Adams, but none to Pinckney. Pinckney received twelve fewer electoral votes than Adams. But think of the gamesmanship we might have if this original electoral edifice still existed.