Mr. MacGillis is the author of a biography of Mitch McConnell.
There
is an unusual space in the basement of the University of Louisville
library, in the large anteroom to the official archives for Senator
Mitch McConnell. The space is called the Civic Education Gallery, but it
is, essentially, a kind of shrine to the political career of Mr.
McConnell, not unlike the exhibits on Babe Ruth or Hank Aaron you’d find
at the Baseball Hall of Fame.
The
mere fact of the shrine is curious enough, given that it memorializes a
politician who shows no sign of leaving the stage any time soon. What’s
most unusual, though, is what it chooses to highlight.
There are a few
artifacts from Mr. McConnell’s youth — his baseball glove, his honorary
fraternity paddle — but most of the exhibits are devoted to the
elections Mr. McConnell won, starting with high school and on up through
Jefferson County executive and the Senate.
When
I visited the room while researching my 2014 biography on Mr.
McConnell, I was struck by what was missing: exhibits on actual
governing accomplishments from the Senate majority leader’s four decades
in elected office. That absence confirmed my thesis that Mr. McConnell,
far more even than other politicians, was motivated by the game of
politics — winning elections and rising in the leadership ranks,
achieving power for power’s sake — more than by any lasting policy
goals.
Well, that was then. Four years later, it is becoming increasingly clear that Mitch McConnell is creating a legacy for himself, and it’s a mighty grand one.
Mr.
McConnell has created the world in which we are now living. Donald
Trump dominates our universe — and now has the power to fill the second
Supreme Court seat in two years. Mitch McConnell, who has promised a
vote on whomever the resident nominates “this fall,” is the figure who
was quietly making it all possible, all along.
First,
there was Mr. McConnell’s vigorous defense, going back to the early
1990's, of the role of big money in American politics, which would help
Mr. Trump not so much in terms of funding his campaign, but in helping
shape the conditions for his appeal.
While
Mr. McConnell has long cast his defense of campaign spending as a First
Amendment issue — money is speech — he made no secret of his motivation
for fighting so hard on the issue. Namely, that he was well aware that
he, as someone lacking in natural campaign talents, and the rest of the
Republican Party, as more business-oriented than the Democrats, would
need to maintain the flow of large contributions to be able to win
elections. “I will always be well financed, and I’ll be well financed
early,” he declared after winning his first race for county executive,
in 1977.
His crusade against campaign
finance reform culminated in the Supreme Court’s 2010 Citizens United
ruling eliminating limits on corporate spending on elections, which Mr.
McConnell followed up by blocking legislation to disclose the identity
of large donors. Even before that ruling, the spread of big money in
politics had done so much to sour the public on government, creating a
ripe target for the Tea Party and, later, for a billionaire populist
running against “the swamp.”
Mr.
McConnell laid the groundwork for the right-wing insurgency of 2009 and
2010 in another way, too, with his decision to withhold Republican
support for any major Democratic initiatives in the Obama years. This
meant that Republicans had less influence on the final shape of
legislation such as the Affordable Care Act than they would have had as
fully willing negotiators.
But
Mr. McConnell, prioritizing elections over policy, calculated that by
blocking or delaying Democratic legislation, above all through
aggressive use of the filibuster, Republicans would create a tedious
gridlock that voters would blame the Democrats for. After all, weren’t
they the ones in power?
Mr. McConnell
was right. This strategy helped to foment opposition to the health care
bill, and to drive huge Republican gains in the 2010 election. But it
also fueled the rise of the Tea Party, which was motivated substantially
by the notion that Mr. Obama was “ramming things down our throats” —
that is, passing legislation on a partisan basis after Mr. McConnell
withheld any Republican negotiation. Of course, Mr. McConnell proceeded
to have plenty of headaches managing the far-right contingent in his own
caucus, but it was a contingent he helped produce.
His
role in the election of Trump was even more direct. Most notable was
his refusal to hold a confirmation hearing, let alone a vote on Merrick
Garland, Mr. Obama’s nominee to replace Antonin Scalia on the Supreme
Court, despite the fact that the nomination was made a full 10 months
before the end of Mr. Obama’s term. This refusal exploded norms and
dismayed Beltway arbiters who had long accepted McConnell’s claim to be a
guardian of Washington institutions. It also provided crucial
motivation to Republicans who had grave qualms about Mr. Trump but were
able to justify voting for him as “saving Scalia’s seat.”
Mr. McConnell’s other form of aid for Trump was more hidden. As The Washington Post reported
a month after the 2016 election, Mr. Obama had been prepared that
September to go public with a C.I.A. assessment laying bare the extent
of Russian intervention in the election. But he was largely dissuaded by
a threat from Mr. McConnell. During a secret briefing for congressional
leaders, The Post reported, Mr. McConnell “raised doubts about the
underlying intelligence and made clear to the administration that he
would consider any effort by the White House to challenge the Russians
publicly an act of partisan politics.” The Obama administration kept
mum, and voters had to wait until after Trump’s election to learn the
depth of Russian involvement.
Now,
with the retirement of Justice Anthony M. Kennedy, it is evident just
how much of a lasting legacy Mitch McConnell’s will leave the country:
Donald Trump will have at least two lifetime appointments to the Supreme
Court. The resident has — and will now enjoy — greater latitude in
filling those seats as a result of Mr. McConnell’s doing away last year
with the 60-vote requirement for Senate confirmation,
to get Neil Gorsuch seated. In the day and a half before Justice
Kennedy’s announcement, the impact of the Scalia seat was made plain
again, as the court issued 5-4 rulings in favor of Trump’s “travel ban” and anti-abortion groups, and against public employee unions.
The
abortion and union rulings had an ironic resonance, as far as Mr.
McConnell goes. In the 1970's, when he ran for county executive in
Louisville, he secured the pivotal endorsement of the A.F.L.-C.I.O. by
pledging to back collective bargaining for public employees (a promise
that went unfulfilled), and while in office he worked effectively behind
the scenes to protect abortion rights locally.
But
that was a long time ago, before Mr. McConnell saw the rightward swing
of the Reagan revolution and decided to hop on board for his own
political preservation as a Southern Republican.
These days, Mr.
McConnell has made explicit, with taunting tweets
among other things, that he views long-term conservative control of the
Supreme Court as his crowning achievement. It’s not hard to see why:
Holding a long-term majority on the court greatly aids his highest cause
— Republican victories in future elections — as recent rulings on
voting rights and gerrymandering demonstrated once again.
Whether
Mr. McConnell decides to add an exhibit in the Civic Education Gallery
documenting his role in the rise of Donald Trump is another matter. The
final historical judgment on that score will not rest with him, in any
case.
Alec MacGillis (@AlecMacGillis) covers government and politics for ProPublica and is the author of “The Cynic: The Political Education of Mitch McConnell.”
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