Is American Democracy dying? For months, as I have watched the
bizarre spectacle of the new Marshal in town and his posse, there's been a
phrase rattling around in my head—the historian Allan Nevins' observation that
"Democracy must be reborn in every generation."
For Nevins, the man who met the moment was Lincoln, who persevered
through failure and terrible loss of life to lead "a new birth of
freedom." For me and many of my generation, it was Watergate—a crime met
with the deliberative process leading to bipartisan consensus that a sitting
President needed to resign. For others, it might have been the Reagan years and
the restoration of American power, or the astonishing rise of Barack Obama.
What rebirth might this generation, marinating in the glory that
is the Age of Trump, see that would reaffirm their faith in first principles?
For the moment, it's not coming from the Right. We have a
Tweeter-in-Chief who demonstrates his policy chops by sending out 140 character
jeremiads. A substance-free Speaker who practices posing three quarters' front
with chin upraised, affecting a scholarly but manly demeanor. And a Senate
Majority Leader who periodically emerges from whatever underwater den he
schemes in to gum a little lettuce while spreading his own bilious joy. This is
not a trio that inspires confidence.
Meanwhile, on Stage Left, La Résistance (sounds chic and très Macron,
n'est-ce pas?) bravely fights the good fight with banners and words and
marches—but without victories in Congressional Special Elections, or on
cherished policies. And, besides a Democratic version of #nevertrump, without a
coherent ideology.
Drama, poor judgment, and just malfeasance we have in abundance.
The White House seems to be stocked with people who spend their time watching
their backs. Most of the Executive Branch jobs that require Senatorial
oversight are unfilled, either because of benign or malign neglect. The State
Department is so understaffed that they are considering setting up a search
party to find anyone who might know anything about foreign policy—or just
anyone who knows anything about anything.
It goes on. There's Russian meddling, a tragi-comedy in three
acts. Trump meets privately and alone with "Friend of the Show"
Vladimir Putin and Putin's translator. Donald Jr. had a chinwag with seven
caviar salesmen bearing gifts of opposition research. Jay Sekulow, one of Dad's
platoon of lawyers, does a "Full Ginsberg," appearing on all five
Sunday talk shows, in each one showing his remarkable intellectual dexterity by
seemingly claiming simultaneously that Senior has never met Junior, and if he
had they would have never talked about the campaign, and if they had talked
about the campaign, no laws were broken—because Jay Sekulow says so. I'm
certainly satisfied. And, again, the Democrats chasing every thread as if it
were catnip, and, again, taking their eyes off the ball. Please, boys and
girls, I beg of you. This is why the Almighty invented Robert Mueller. Look to
your own house first. It's not like you don't have work to do.
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