ReportWire

Tag: Republican strategist

  • ‘The Most Entertaining Dead-Cat Bounce in History’

    ‘The Most Entertaining Dead-Cat Bounce in History’

    [ad_1]

    Not very long ago, the harshest thing Nikki Haley would say about Donald Trump was that “chaos follows him”—a sort of benign jab that creatively avoids causation and suggests mere correlation, like noting that scorched trees tend to appear after a forest fire.

    For most of the Republican-primary campaign to date, Haley adopted a carefully modulated approach toward the former president, and reserved most of her barbs for her other primary rivals. Her motto seemed to be “Speak softly about Trump and carry a sharp stick for Vivek Ramaswamy.” Recently, though, Haley has made a hard pivot.

    Just two days after she came in (a distant) second to Trump in the New Hampshire primary, she began fundraising for the first time off his attacks on her—selling T-shirts with the slogan BARRED PERMANENTLY after the former president said that anyone who continues to support her will be “permanently barred from the MAGA camp,” whatever that means.

    In the past week, Haley has been on a tear, calling Trump “totally unhinged,” “toxic,” “self-absorbed,” and lacking in “moral clarity.” Her campaign unleashed a new attack-ad series in which Trump and President Joe Biden are portrayed as two “grumpy old men” standing in the way of the next generation. And yesterday, Haley posted a gag photo of a Trump Halloween costume labeled “Weakest General Election Candidate Ever.” To paraphrase the words of the Democratic-primary candidate Marianne Williamson, Girlfriend, this is so on.

    Such an aggressive posture is new for Haley, and Democrats and anti-Trump Republicans have applauded her for it. She should have been talking this way all along, some of her supporters argue. “If she started it sooner, she would’ve cut the lead in New Hampshire,” Chip Felkel, a Republican strategist in South Carolina, told me. In his view, Haley thought she “had to play nice” to win over Trump voters: “But this ain’t a nice game.”

    Can Haley still achieve anything by playing hardball at this point? Things don’t look promising. Her bid to defeat Trump is already the longest of long shots, based on the polls coming out of virtually every state, including Haley’s own South Carolina. So what’s the point of changing things up? Why muster the courage to smack-talk Trump now, when the race seems all but over? I asked a number of political strategists and experts for their view, and pieced together a few plausible theories. (Neither the Haley nor the Trump campaign responded to a request for comment.)


    1. Attacking Trump is easier now.
    The most obvious theory for Haley’s more combative rhetoric is that with only one other major candidate still in the primary, the task of drawing a direct contrast with Trump is much simpler. “If you have six people in a race and a couple are attacking a couple others, it’s hard to predict how that’s going to work in terms of driving your ballots,” David Kochel, a longtime Iowa Republican strategist, told me. “When it’s a multi-candidate field, you’ve got to tell your own story.” After Iowa, “that’s resolved,” he said, and so “she has no choice but to turn her attention to Trump.”

    The jabs are meant to draw Trump out—to pressure him to join her on a debate stage or to provoke a tantrum that turns off his potential voters and motivates her own. “She needs him to make a mistake,” Kochel said. “She needs some intervening activity, some dynamic that is not completely in her control.”

    Maybe this is a good moment for Haley to exploit Trump’s weakness with women voters. In a hypothetical head-to-head matchup, Biden beats Trump with the support of women, a new Quinnipiac poll showed, and that gender gap appears to be growing. Last week, Haley dragged Trump over his defamation-case loss to E. Jean Carroll, in which he was ordered to pay $83 million in additional defamation damages to the woman whom he was previously found liable for defaming and sexually abusing. “Haley is running the Taylor Swift strategy in the primary,” Steve Bannon, Trump’s former White House chief strategist, told me. “She’s playing to the ‘Trump is toxic’ women’s vote.’” The pop star’s apparent potential to influence Americans, and especially women, to vote Democratic, coupled with the results of the Quinnipiac poll, represent “deep, underlying forces that need to be addressed,” Bannon said—something Haley will continue to seize on.

    2. Haley’s anti-Trump rhetoric represents the death throes of her campaign.
    Haley’s campaign has followed the same trajectory as several other Republicans’ efforts in the Trump era: They might have avoided attacking him directly at first, but when their prospects dimmed, they lashed out. Marco Rubio mocked Trump’s small hands just before dropping out of the race; Ted Cruz called Trump a “pathological liar” at the tail end of his own campaign. “It seems like they all have consultants in their ear telling them if they take on Trump directly, they are going to crater support with the base, which is true,” Tim Miller, a political consultant and writer at the conservative outlet The Bulwark, told me. “Then, finally, when they’re up against the wall and in the final stages, they figure it’s worth a shot.”

    Maybe ratcheting up the combativeness is a form of emotional catharsis. When I asked the Democratic strategist James Carville about Haley’s change in approach, he texted me that Haley “is tired, scared & pissed off.” Because she’s trailing Trump in her own state, “certain doom in SC is eating at her. NEVER discount the human element.” Haley now sounds a lot more like she did behind closed doors during the Trump administration, Mike Murphy, a Republican consultant, told me, citing conversations he’s had with former Haley staffers. “This is Nikki therapy,” he said. “She’s just having fun poking him in the eye, getting all her ya-yas out. It’s the most entertaining dead-cat bounce in history.”

    3. Haley is giving her donors what they want.
    Haley’s billionaire supporters adore this new, aggressively anti-Trump candidate, and they’re rewarding her with cash. “Nikki’s more aggressive posture toward Trump was welcomed as it is communicating the stark choice in front of the party,” Bill Berrien, the CEO of the manufacturer Pindel Global Precision, who hosted a fundraiser for Haley in New York, told The Washington Post. Cliff Asness, a co-founder of AQR Capital Management and a Haley donor, wrote on X that, in response to Trump’s attacks, he “may have to contribute more” to her.

    At least some of these funders are convinced that Haley still has a shot. “She’s got donors saying, ‘You have a credible campaign, and you never know when Trump is going to choke to death on a meatloaf,’” Murphy said. Whether or not Haley believes that, she’s going along with it. The odds that she might become the nominee through an act of God or a brokered convention, after all, are probably better than buying a Power Ball ticket. “It’s a clutching-at-straws thing, but she’s got the best straw in town to clutch on,” Murphy said. “Why the hell not? It’s free and fun.”

    4. Haley is looking to a post-Trump future.
    A few weeks ago, rumors circulated that Haley might be on Trump’s shortlist for vice president. If the decision, though unlikely, went her way, that could set her up to be Trump’s political heir. But Haley’s recent hostility toward Trump—and his splenetic response—have surely shut the door on that possibility. Instead, Haley is staking out her own territory.

    “She’s not done. She’s running for 2028,” Sarah Isgur, a senior editor at The Dispatch and a former deputy campaign manager for the 2016 Republican presidential hopeful Carly Fiorina, told me. Trump has “changed her brand-thinking.” Instead of gunning for some sort of role in MAGA world, Haley can portray herself as the last person standing in the war against Trumpism—a position that many men before her have fought for and failed to achieve. If she can do that, she can consolidate a leadership future for herself, post-Trump, Isgur said.

    Haley will be able to say “I told you so” if Trump loses to Biden in November—or if he wins but then governs disastrously. She’ll be “the good conservative who tried to warn you,” Murphy said. This also means that after the race is over, she’ll have to lie low for a while, and not join other Trump rivals turned grovelers, including Ron DeSantis, Tim Scott, and North Dakota Governor Doug Burgum. She’s playing “the long-term game,” Murphy said.



    [ad_2]

    Elaine Godfrey

    Source link

  • Ex-Bush Strategist Predicts Exactly When Donald Trump Will Be Convicted

    Ex-Bush Strategist Predicts Exactly When Donald Trump Will Be Convicted

    [ad_1]

    Matthew Dowd, a Republican strategist for George W. Bush’s 2004 presidential campaign, on Tuesday predicted when former President Donald Trump will be convicted.

    Dowd, talking to MSNBC’s Joy Reid, said he envisioned Trump ― who faces 91 charges across four criminal cases ― winning the GOP primaries in Iowa, New Hampshire and South Carolina “and he’ll basically all but be the nominee.”

    That is when, Dowd suggested, Republican 2024 front-runner Trump will be convicted — just before the Republican National Convention in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, in July 2024.

    “So he’ll be the nominee, but be a convicted nominee in the midst of this, and then we’ll be headed to a general election with the nominee of a major political party convicted, at least in one court, if not in two different courts, in this time,” Dowd explained.

    “A convicted felon running for president under the Republican Party,” added Dowd. “We have never in my life have ever seen a calendar that will unfold in that manner. But it also is going to be so weird while this is going on, Republican voters voting for him to be the nominee of the party as he’s convicted.”

    Related…

    [ad_2]

    Source link

  • A World Without Chuck Grassley in the Senate?

    A World Without Chuck Grassley in the Senate?

    [ad_1]

    The long-serving Senator Chuck Grassley is, for lack of a comparison closer to home, Iowa’s Queen Elizabeth II. This is partly a matter of sheer longevity. At 89, the senator is older than John Deere’s first self-propelled combine, which appeared in 1947. He was 26 when Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and the Big Bopper died in a plane crash in 1959. The year Kevin Costner filmed Field of Dreams in Dyersville, 1988, Grassley was 55.

    Age aside, Grassley is simply a part of Iowa’s political furniture—many voters in the state have never known a time without him. When I was born, in 1993, he’d been the state’s senior senator for 12 years; he has held elected office—first in the state House, then in the U.S. House and Senate—since my father was 4 years old. For many Iowans, the day when Grassley would not be their senator has been scarcely imaginable.

    Until now, maybe. Every six years, Iowa Democrats have inched closer to unseating the seven-term Republican senator. This time, they seem closer than ever: A recent poll showed Grassley leading 64-year-old Mike Franken only narrowly, suggesting that this will be Grassley’s toughest reelection fight in four decades.

    Twelve years ago, he defeated Roxanne Conlin by 31 points. In 2016, he beat Patty Judge by 24. This year’s race against Franken didn’t seem particularly newsworthy until earlier this month, when Selzer & Company, Iowa’s most respected polling firm, released results from a survey showing that Grassley was leading Franken by a mere three percentage points. “It says to me that Franken is running a competent campaign and has a shot to defeat the seemingly invincible Chuck Grassley—previously perceived to be invincible,” J. Ann Selzer, the president of Selzer & Company, told the Des Moines Register.

    The poll is only a snapshot in time, and it could certainly prove wrong. But it’s reasonable to assume, given other polling since then, that Franken is closer to unseating Grassley than any challenger before him. The most obvious reason for this is that Iowans may finally be noticing how old their senator is—a veritable crinoid in the creek bed of Iowa politics. Although Grassley seems healthy—he runs several miles each morning and kicks off campaign events by doing push-ups onstage—more than 60 percent of the Selzer poll’s respondents said his age was a real concern. “There are a lot of voters between 75 and 85 who think, I wouldn’t want to be in the United States Senate right now. I wouldn’t want to have that life; why does he?” Jeff Link, an Iowa Democratic strategist, told me.

    For the first time in the history of this particular poll, more Iowan respondents disapprove of Grassley’s job performance than approve of it. Pair that dissatisfaction with the fact that Franken is a strong candidate. A retired Navy vice admiral from deep-red northwest Iowa, the Democrat could provide a nonthreatening alternative for the independents and Republicans who are reluctant to give Grassley another term. Franken “is energetic, very smart—almost loquacious—but he knows what he’s talking about,” David Oman, a state Republican strategist and a former co-chair of the Iowa GOP, told me. Despite that positive assessment, the recent emergence of an assault allegation from a former campaign manager might cool Democrats’ enthusiasm. (Franken has denied the allegation, and police have closed the case, calling it “unfounded.”)

    Undergirding all of these factors is the plain reality that Iowa, like the rest of the country, is becoming more partisan and more polarized. For 30 years, Iowans sent both Grassley and a Democrat, Tom Harkin, who retired in 2014, to the Senate at every chance, no matter which party was in the White House or who was occupying the governor’s mansion. The consensus among Iowans was that such a balance was ideal. But the days of winning big by being part of that balance are over.

    Grassley has changed, too. Back then, he was viewed as a kind of farmers-first independent, interested chiefly in restraining federal spending, whistleblower protections, and promoting free trade. Democrats liked him—and often voted for him. In 1991, Grassley was one of just two Republicans to vote against the Gulf War. “That made him seem above partisanship,” David Yepsen, a former reporter for the Des Moines Register, told me. Grassley’s image, among Iowans, was of a man who operated above the partisan fray.

    That gloss began to wear off in 2009. At first, Grassley seemed a willing negotiating partner on President Barack Obama’s plans for health-care reform; he worked for months on a bipartisan bill. But he hadn’t bargained for how unpopular the Affordable Care Act would be with his party’s base. During a tour of central Iowa that summer, Grassley was mobbed by Republicans and Tea Partiers who rejected the plan. He buckled under the pressure, abandoned the talks, and ultimately voted against the final bill. “He’d never been treated that way by his own party. It changed him,” Yepsen said. “It made him mindful that there’s a new kind of conservative out there, a new generation coming on—the populists.” And he responded accordingly.

    In the ensuing years, Grassley came to recognize that there were fewer and fewer points to be earned by working across the aisle. In 2016, as the chair of the Judiciary Committee, he was party to the Senate’s refusal to give Obama’s Supreme Court nominee Merrick Garland a hearing, and along with Republican leadership, he held open more than 100 seats on the federal bench during the final months of the Obama administration for Donald Trump to fill. “You can’t underestimate Democrats in Iowa watching his leadership in the Judiciary Committee putting all these conservatives on the Court, and seeing them now do their thing on the Dobbs decision,” Yepsen said. “Conservatives love it. But it makes him much more of a partisan.”

    Whether Grassley would support the candidacy of Donald Trump was initially an open question. The womanizing, scandal-plagued Republican presidential nominee seemed, after all, to be the Iowa senator’s bizarro opposite. Yet Grassley, like most others in the GOP, fell in line. He has stuck by Trump through vulgar comments and allegations. In 2019, Grassley—an actual author of the 1989 Whistleblower Protection Act—defended Trump’s firing of the whistleblower and impeachment witness Alexander Vindman. Lately, Grassley has broken from his party only a handful of times, including to gently push back on some of Trump’s “America First” protectionist trade policies and to support the 2021 bipartisan infrastructure bill. The senator seems altogether untroubled by Trump’s effort to discredit the 2020 election, and continues to appear alongside him at rallies.

    “The way that [Grassley] didn’t stand up for much of anything is emblematic of the Republican Party in the years of Trump,” Bill Kristol, the editor at large of The Bulwark, told me. “People you thought would be independent just ended up going along.”

    Nowadays, the way Iowans view Grassley simply reflects their politics, not some old-timey desire for balance and comity. Democrats see him as an utter disappointment—a caricature of the man they may once have disagreed with but at least respected. Some Republicans are pleased with the careful line he’s walked, embracing Trump while hanging on to moderates. For other Republicans, Grassley is not nearly MAGA enough. This year, for the first time in his Senate career, Grassley faced a primary challenger. Jim Carlin, a state senator who has criticized Grassley for voting to certify the results of the 2020 election, earned 26 percent of the primary vote.

    Given this transformation in how Iowans regard Grassley, defeat at the hands of a Democrat is more plausible than it’s ever been. More plausible, but still not likely. The Selzer poll may have given Franken a jolt of momentum, including a burst of Hail Mary fundraising, but the state is reddening and the gap in party registration is wide and growing: The Iowa GOP has roughly 88,000 more registered voters this year than the Iowa Democratic Party, according to the Iowa secretary of state’s office. In 2020, that advantage was only about 20,000. This gap, combined with the historical precedent of higher Republican turnout in off-year elections, seems likely to add up to a Grassley victory. The numbers are “hugely problematic,” Jeff Link, the Democratic strategist, said—even for a three-star admiral.

    A world without Chuck Grassley in power is one in which most Iowans have never actually lived. That may be why “Faith in adversity” has recently become the unofficial motto of the state’s Democrats. This year, they even decided to put it on a sign. Orange placards dapple grassy lawns throughout Iowa, each bearing a message of hopeful conviction—We believe Michael Franken will defeat Chuck Grassley, the signs say—as though they can speak such a mammoth upset into existence.

    [ad_2]

    Elaine Godfrey

    Source link

  • The Radical Fringe That Just Went Mainstream in Arizona

    The Radical Fringe That Just Went Mainstream in Arizona

    [ad_1]

    It might be nice one day to wake up and feel serene—even hopeful—about the state of American politics. To know that all of those people who have been warning about the growing threat to democracy are way ahead of their skis. But today is not that day.

    Arizona Republicans are nominating an entire cast of characters who argue not only that Donald Trump won the election in 2020, but also that the state’s results should be decertified—a process for which there is no legal basis. These Trump-endorsed candidates—Kari Lake for governor, Mark Finchem for secretary of state, Abraham Hamadeh for attorney general, Blake Masters for senator—all won their respective primaries this week and are now one election away from political power.

    Some strategists might frame these Republican wins as a gift to Democrats, and you can look at it that way. Democrats will be more competitive in the upcoming midterms than they might have been if more reasonable Republicans were on the ballot. Moderates and independents abound in Arizona, and they aren’t going to be excited to vote for a passel of kooks. But that doesn’t change the simple fact that the fundamentals are on Republicans’ side this year: Joe Biden is still unpopular; inflation is still high; America might soon be entering a recession.

    “Nobody should be popping champagne,” Sarah Longwell, a Republican strategist and the publisher of The Bulwark, told me. “This is the most antidemocracy slate of candidates in the country. We’re in a very dangerous situation.”

    “Stop the Steal” candidates are running—and winning—all over the country. But Arizona concentrates a lot of them within a single geographic area—like an ant farm of election deniers.

    Lake might prove the most significant of these candidates. Lake’s lead over her top Republican opponent, Karrin Taylor Robson, had grown to nearly 3 percent when the gubernatorial primary race was finally called in her favor on Thursday night. Before becoming an enthusiastic proponent of Trump’s election lies, Lake was a local TV-news anchor, making her a household name in Arizona and giving her something that many political candidates lack: confidence in front of the camera. Like Trump, Lake has a difficult-to-describe magnetism with Republican-base voters; they simply cannot get enough of her.

    Throughout her campaign, Lake has called Biden an “illegitimate president” and vowed that, if she becomes governor, she’ll be reviewing and decertifying Arizona’s 2020 election results—despite multiple audits (and even a partisan review) showing precisely zero evidence of widespread fraud. Even ahead of the primary, Lake claimed to have evidence of funny business; the NBC reporter Vaughn Hillyard tried to get Lake to share some of that evidence, but she would not. Lake and Finchem, the cowboy-hat-wearing would-be secretary of state whom I profiled last month, have been cooking up new ways supposedly to prevent fraud—by banning voting machines and early voting. Both Lake and Finchem primed voters to believe that, if they lost, only fraud would explain their losses. Of course they did. That’s the new Republican playbook, and these two know it better than anyone.

    Lake’s opponent in November, Katie Hobbs, is Arizona’s former secretary of state and a run-of-the-mill Democrat who will probably try to position herself as the sane, competent foil to Lake’s wild-eyed conspiracy monger. That’s a solid strategy—maybe the only one that can work. But Hobbs is so run-of-the-mill that she’s boring. And what Hobbs lacks in personality, she makes up for in baggage, after a former staffer successfully sued last year over discrimination. For Arizonans who are still fans of democracy, though, Hobbs is the obvious choice—an apt example of the “Terrible Candidate/Important Election” scenario that my colleague Caitlin Flanagan described this week.

    Arizona Democrats like Hobbs do have a genuine shot at defeating this slate of extremists. The basic fact of these Republicans’ extremism makes all Democratic candidates look better by comparison. Many independent voters, who count for something like one-third of all Arizona voters, and moderate Republicans would probably have happily voted for any Republican but Lake; come November, some of them may be willing to turn that into any candidate but Lake. Plus, Democrats seem to have gotten their groove back in recent weeks. Lawmakers in Washington, D.C., reached a long-elusive deal on sweeping climate legislation; gas prices are dropping fast; and the overturning of Roe v. Wade might energize an otherwise sleepy set of Democratic voters just in time for the midterms.

    And yet. Despite what hopeful Democrats might tell you, Arizona isn’t a purple state; it’s more of a lightish red. And this year remains an excellent year for Republicans—probably the best chance for any Republican extremist to make it into elected office not just in Arizona, but anywhere in the country. “When the political party in power has a president running in the mid- or upper 30s and inflation is high and people are feeling recession-y?” Longwell said. “You’re in a danger point. You just are.”

    The danger of a Lake or Finchem election in November is pretty straightforward, as I’ve outlined in previous stories. State leaders can easily cast doubt on an election’s results if the outcome doesn’t suit them, and this entire slate of Arizona Republicans is clearly prepared to do that. Governors and secretaries of state can tinker with election procedures or propose absurd new requirements, such as having every voter reregister to vote, as the Republican gubernatorial nominee in Pennsylvania, Doug Mastriano, has suggested. What happens if the outcome of the 2024 presidential election comes down to a closely divided Arizona? What if such a pivotal state was run not by Democrats and Republicans who are loyal to the democratic process, but by conspiracy-drunk partisans who won’t stop until they see their candidate swearing on a Bible? There’s a reason Trump has endorsed this slate; he knows these candidates will be pulling for him no matter what.

    Maybe the most important thing to note is that whatever happens to these Trump sycophants in November, they’ve demonstrated that a not-insignificant number of Republican voters want them—the cream of the conspiracy crop—to lead their party. In Tuesday’s primary, Rusty Bowers, Arizona’s Republican speaker of the house who did not cooperate with attempts to overturn the 2020 election results, lost his State Senate race to an election denier. Lake, who has become a household name in Trumpworld and raked in campaign donations from across the country, will be well positioned, whatever the coming election result, to be a MAGA superstar.

    If you’re still tallying up Trump’s primary wins and losses as an indicator of his grip on the party, you’re missing the point. The man’s enduring legacy is figures like Lake and a GOP packed with cranks and conspiracy theorists. “They will be defining the next generation of Republicans, and [Lake] will be among the next generation of leaders,” Longwell said. “If she wins, or even if she loses.”

    [ad_2]

    Elaine Godfrey

    Source link