Mitch McConnell is a Political Terrorist

Mitch McConnell is a political terrorist.

The FBI has this to say about the definition of the term terrorist:

There is no single, universally accepted, definition of terrorism. Terrorism is defined in the Code of Federal Regulations as “the unlawful use of force and violence against persons or property to intimidate or coerce a government, the civilian population, or any segment thereof, in furtherance of political or social objectives.”

What we have seen Senator McConnell do in the United States Senate over the last decade and a half is nothing short of the “use of force to coerce a government in furtherance of political or social objective.” Ever since his declaration on the eve of the inauguration of Barack Obama that his primary political goal was to make Obama a one-term president, McConnell has used his power as the leader of the Republican Senate caucus to twist and subvert democratic governance and to tear apart any of the norms need to sustain such a government.

McConnell’s particular brand of terrorism isn’t the use of violence to subvert and undermine governments. My use of the term isn’t to say McConnell has joined some fringe group using physical violence to achieve their ends. Rather, I use the term “terrorist” to indicate that, like the commonly understood subjects of the epithet, McConnell places ideology and a thirst for power above the good of civilian populations or electoral majorities, and is willing to tear down any structure, institution or society in order to achieve his ends. His is a pure consequentialist, in that the ultimate goal of seizing and maintaining power for himself and his capitalist allies supersedes any question of tactics. No tradition or institution is too important to dismantle in his single minded pursuit.

His latest push to complete a Supreme Court nomination mere weeks before an election in which his party is increasingly projected to lose across the board – against his own former declarations of what is and is not permissible in an election year – is just the latest example of the terrorism he perpetuates. For decades, the process of selecting and confirming a Supreme Court nomination has been a slow and deliberate one, purposely so, in order that the United States Senate has the full amount of time and attention needed to carry out their Constitutional duty in such a way that they are able to assure the public that whoever assumes the lifetime appointment to the most powerful judicial body in the world is indeed fully capable, qualified and vetted. At the same time, the right of the sitting president to nominate and have their candidate voted on by the Senate was never challenged, no matter what other events were happening in the nation at the time.

These norms are essential to our Constitutional democracy. The Supreme Court wields enormous power over judicial proceedings and legal theory in our nation. As an unelected body, it is the most undemocratic of our major governing institutions. Thus, the role of the President in nominating, and the Senate in conducting a confirmation in good faith, is crucial to maintaining trust in the Court and ensuring that the decisions it hands down are respected and followed. Without an above-board process, the legitimacy of the Court breaks down, along with that of the rest of the federal judiciary, which leads to a undermining of the idea of rule of law, something crucial to our democratic society.

McConnell has shown, over the course of the last five years, that preserving the rule of law, maintaining trust in the nomination process, and carrying out the duties of the Senate in the interests of maintaining our form of government are not priorities to him and his caucus. It is clear from his actions that he would rather burn it all down, as long as the benefits of that burning trickle upwards to him and his allies.

This burning began early in 2016, when Supreme Court justice Antonin Scalia died in February, a full 9 months before the presidential election, and almost an entire year before the next president would take office. As has been the case since the founding of our country, President Obama nominated qualified jurist and sent that nomination to the Senate. McConnell at this point made the decision that he had no duty to follow the Constitution and bring the President’s nominee before the Senate for consideration, on the weak and baldly political grounds that it was “too close” to an election, that “the American people should decide who selects the next nominee to the Court.” McConnell was able to maintain this blockade for over a year, destroying norms the whole while and allowing President Trump to begin his presidential term (achieved without winning an electoral majority) with a lifetime appointment to the Court. This was shocking at the time, a clear attack on the democratic character of the United States government.

All the while, McConnell and his allies made pious claims about preserving democracy and the rights of the people, about how allowing a “lame duck” President to influence the Court was an affront to the Constitution, about how a President should never make an appointment in an election year.

This year, the narrative coming from McConnell has flipped dramatically. Following the death of Ruth Bader Ginsberg just 6 short weeks before an election, now the rhetoric coming from the Majority Leader is that a President has an absolute right to fill a Supreme Court seat, and that the Senate should confirm that nominee quickly and with little oversight provided, in order to get it in before the election.

The hypocrisy is breathtaking, but not unexpected. McConnell and his Republican allies long ago made it clear that none of this was ever about principle; rather, power is at the heart of their calculations. Whatever seizes the most power is the right play, ideals be damned. Again, no principle, institution or tradition is too valuable to smash in this immoral pursuit. The democratic will must never be heeded.

This unyielding pursuit of power and destruction of the Constitutional norms American governance was supposed to be built upon is political terrorism. The idea behind McConnell’s moves are not driven by the desire to govern widely or compassionately. Instead, every move is motivated by the ideology of power. Every obstacle must be destroyed. Every check must be broken. Every appeal to higher principles must be ignored at best, and more often than not, mocked as unrealistic or weak. This is not a partisan issue; this disregard for our basic norms of governance damages all of us, as it makes government even less accountable to those it is supposed to represent and serve. Through his actions, McConnell continues to actively work to make government work only for those with power, money, and elite status. Through weakening democratic institutions, he serves to make our Constitutional form of government much more of a oligarchy than a democracy.

Mitch McConnell is a political terrorist. His trampling of a whole host of democratic norms over the last decade and a half will have a terrible impact far beyond the expiration of his time in power. Things have been broken that can never be fixed. The traditions he has subverted or undone will not return after he and Donald Trump leave office. I fear for the future of our democratic experiment, because I do not believe there is a lot of optimistic signs about its future. And when the story is written about its downfall, Mitch McConnell’s blatant willingness to shred it all in pursuit of power will be the central story. Trump may be the loud and shocking voice at the center of this terrible moment in our national story; but his is an aimless, blundering destruction, one that while terrible, could be papered over after his ouster from office, written off as an aberration, a temporary insanity on the part of American democracy. But the legacy of McConnell’s terrorism will live on much, much longer.

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The Pro-Life Case for Biden

My wife shared the following with me from Facebook. This was written by a pro-life Christian, and it really sums up a lot of my feelings about pro-life politics, Christian support for Donald Trump, and the election. I wish I could have worded my thoughts this elegantly or powerfully. Take a moment to read this, and then reflect on it carefully, whether you be pro- or ant-choice, Democrat or Republican, liberal or conservative, or, most importantly, no matter what branch of the church you find your home in.

“I have felt a heaviness in my soul lately.

For the past couple weeks, I’ve felt it. A weight. The heaviness. So this morning – when a block of time unexpectedly opened in my schedule, I closed myself in my room, read some of John’s gospel, opened my journal, and prayed, “OK, God. What is it? My heart feels heavy. I need to write. But I don’t have words. What is this feeling?”

And I began to write – Heartbreak. It’s heartbreak. And disillusionment. I’ve been here before – so many times since 2016. And here I am again.

I keep seeing Christians say they can’t vote for Joe Biden because of his stance on abortion. I”ve seen Christians proudly state they are single-issue voters – it all comes down to abortion. So they’ll vote for Trump. Because he promises to appoint Supreme Court Justices who will overturn Roe v. Wade. That’s the one and only thing that matters.

But why? Why is that the one and only thing that matters?

Is that the one and only thing that matters to Jesus? Reading through the Bible, I would say unequivocally “NO.” What does the Bible say directly about abortion? And I ask this from my pro-life heart. The Bible has FAR, FAR more to say about pride, about abusing power to mistreat the poor, about lying, about treating others with hatred, about humility, about seeking forgiveness, about faithfulness — about ALL of that than it does about abortion.

So, Christians, why are you so willing to toss all of those morals aside? Why are you so willing to turn a blind eye to so many behaviors that are completely, blatantly in opposition to the heart and character of Christ?

When I read about Joe Biden’s stance on abortion, I see a man who has wrestled with his faith. I see a man whose heart wants no abortions and who has struggled throughout his years in public service to determine the best way to accomplish that. Is it by making abortion illegal? (At one point, he said “yes.”) Is it by prohibiting government funding of abortion? (At one point, he said “yes.”) Or is it by supporting public policies that make abortion rates decline? (This seems to be where he’s landed.)

This personal wrestling resonates with me. I have had those same wrestling matches within myself.

Did you know – between 1981 and 2016, the sharpest decline in abortion rates occurred under Democratic Presidents – not under Republican Presidents. The rates especially dropped under the leadership of President Obama and continued to decline after he left office. Most everyone agrees the reason for this is because access to contraception is key in preventing pregnancies. And under the Affordable Care Act, contraception coverage became more widespread. Even though some states enacted new abortion restrictions between 2011 and 2017, by 2017 57% of the nationwide decline occurred in states that had not enacted new abortion restrictions. So there is evidence that pursuing legal action isn’t necessary (or effective) to reduce the amount of abortions.

I am pro-life. I would like to see zero abortions. I also want to honor and value the lives of women who find themselves in the position of considering abortion. Those lives also matter to me. So I don’t believe criminalizing the choice is the best way to truly help those women. I think public policies that offer help and hope — financial and medical – are the best ways to reduce abortions.

Therefore, I need to find political candidates who will support programs that help the women who are most likely to feel that abortion is their only option, candidates who support making effective contraception affordable and accessible to everyone.

I also want a candidate who values all life. Refugees’ lives. Women’s lives. Black lives. Poor lives. Lives during a pandemic. The lives of people who disagree with him.

You see, when you say you’re voting for Trump because you’re pro-life, I can’t take you seriously. Because Trump has not proven himself to value lives. For the love! – read his Twitter and show me how this man values life.

When you say you can’t vote for Biden because of your Christian beliefs, I can’t take you seriously. Because again and again and again, Donald Trump’s words and actions fly in direct contradiction to the character of Christ.

For the past four years, I’ve been so disillusioned and heartbroken and sad to see so many Christians abandon their morals and contort their beliefs in order to justify their support of someone who so obviously violates every moral and value I was taught in the Church.

Somewhere along the line, political masterminds decided that evangelical Christians could be manipulated into believing abortion and gay marriage are the only two things God cares about.

Friends, that is a lie. You have been hoodwinked.

Obviously, you don’t have to vote for Joe Biden. But you can’t use our Jesus and the Bible to defend your support of Donald Trump.”

“Christians Will Have Power”

The New York Times ran a piece this week taking a close look at a few conservative, evangelical families in rural Iowa, which tries to gain an understanding of the link between these people’s deeply held religious beliefs, and their support for Donald Trump as president. I found the article fascinating, and as someone who is also deeply committed to Christian values, very depressing and sad. I encourage you to read the piece in full, but I want to make a few comments on parts that really stuck out to me.

What first caught my eye was the title of the piece, a quote from President Trump’s 2016 campaign stop in Sioux Center, Iowa: “Christians Will Have Power.” This stuck out to me as a theologian, because Christian approaches to the seizure and wielding of political power are my primary area of academic interest. I have a robustly formed view of Christianity and political power, and this line jumped out at me because it is the antithesis of how I understand Christians to be called to approach worldly power, and those who promise it.

Here is the passage from the article detailing Trump’s statement:

Christians make up the overwhelming majority of the country, he said. And then he slowed slightly to stress each next word: “And yet we don’t exert the power that we should have.”

If he were elected president, he promised, that would change. He raised a finger.

“Christianity will have power,” he said. “If I’m there, you’re going to have plenty of power, you don’t need anybody else. You’re going to have somebody representing you very, very well. Remember that.”

The first thing that comes to my mind upon reading this is the Temptation of Christ, from the Gospel of Matthew, in chapter 4. Verses 8 and 9 read:

Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor. “All this I will give you,” he said, “if you will bow down and worship me.”

I don’t know how it could be more explicit than this. I just can’t comprehend reading the words of the Gospel, and then listening to someone like Trump speak in this way, and not feel inherent opposition in these two worldviews. Its not like they are to different views which can peacefully coexist; these are two fundamentally opposite and competing views of how to approach worldly power.

Christianity is not an ideology of power. Christianity is founded upon the belief in and emulation of a Lord of laid down all power, despite all the power at his disposal, who was wiling to die rather than dominate. In the words of St. Paul, Christ emptied himself of all power. So are we called.

Granting the idea that Christians are increasingly encountering a Western culture hostile to their exercise of the faith (a theme hammered again and again by the subjects of the article), Christians are nevertheless not called to turn and attempt to wrest power away and dominate others, or to place their trust in strongmen or boastful leaders. Our Way is the way of the meek, of the humble. The example of Christ is not made lovely and desirable through the conquering of our foes, but through our willingness to love our enemies, to stand strong in our convictions in the face of the world, even if it means the loss of power and prestige and influence.

This connects to another passage from the piece that stood out to me:

“You are always only one generation away from losing Christianity,” said Micah Schouten, who was born and raised in Sioux Center, recalling something a former pastor used to say. “If you don’t teach it to your children it ends. It stops right there.”

I agree with Mr. Schouten completely. Our faith is not one based on culture or race or ethnicity. Christianity is inherited on the basis on a retelling of the story over and over, as we each live into that story, and then pass it to our children. And it continues on through the choice of our children to pick up that burden and carry it forward. That only happens through our showing the power and importance of this message we carry.

However, evangelicals in America like the ones featured in this piece seem to think and act like the continuation of the Christian faith, far from being the small work of telling the story of Christ and living it in our lives everyday in a thousand small ways, is instead the work of the federal government, and of conservative politicians. Without them, without Donald Trump, they seem to say, Christianity is doomed.

But hear me: if Christianity depends on Donald Trump and the Republican Party in order for it to live on, then the faith is already dead and gone.

I have more faith in the power of the Holy Spirit and in the example of Christ’s life than this. Our faith is not dependent on cultural hegemony, on politicians and leaders in Washington D.C. and state capitals shepherding it along. No, instead I think the insurance of the faith to these worldly leaders is in fact more damaging and dangerous to the future of the Christian witness. Our faith would be well served if it vacated the halls of power around the globe. No, we would not get to enact Christian policies and enforce our values and beliefs on others. But go read the Gospel. That was never our job anyways. When Christ entrusted us with the Great Commission, it wasn’t a command to seize power and force the conversion of millions. No, the Commission is to make disciples, which means, to make friends and be in community with them and let your life speak to the power of the witness of Christ. Christianity grew and thrived for three hundred years before it was seized and bastardized by Constantine and power the Roman Imperial machine. We do not need, nor should we desire, the imprimatur of official power.

Because when we let the faith become identified with the powers and principalities of the world, when we co-opt it to the needs of worldly political power, the message of Christ gets corrupted and twisted and becomes unrecognizable. This connects to the last part I want to highlight:

Mr. Schouten’s wife, Caryn, had walked over with the other wives. After the election of President Barack Obama, the country seemed to undergo a cultural shift, she said. “It was dangerous to voice your Christianity,” she said. “Because we were viewed as bigots, as racists — we were labeled as the haters and the ones who are causing all the derision and all of the problems in America. Blame it on the white believers.”

Christianity in America has become so wrapped up in capitalism and white supremacy and patriotism and power that even committed, church-going Christians like Caryn Schouten can no longer tell her faith apart from those things. You can see it here because she, like many conservative Christians I know, immediately get defensive and angry when people call out and fight against racism or injustice or capitalism. The faith has become so intertwined in those things that it is hard to disconnect it any longer. As I said above, it becomes unrecognizable. When someone denounces racism, and you feel like your faith is under attack, perhaps that means its time to examine your faith. Christ and the Christianity are not for white people only. And, as a movement that criticizes all exercises of power, this means Christianity must critique the power of white supremacy. If your faith intersects with your cultural and racial beliefs to a point where they can no longer be separated without those beliefs collapsing, then you need to let that collapse happen, and rebuild your faith on the Christ who is voice and friends of the weak, of the oppressed, of the hurting, of the powerless, of the people crying out for justice.

This piece from the New York Times made me very sad. It made me sad because I don’t think people like the Schoutens are bad people. I think they are committed to their faith, and passionate about it. But it made me sad to see how the Christian story has become almost unrecognizable in large swathes of white America today. I don’t know how we address that. I don’t know if we can. When I wrote my thesis last year on white Christians in the midwest, I encountered this time and time again. And despite my best attempts in that work to provide some form of theological answer to these problems, in the end, I wasn’t convinced there was an answer. I’m still not. I think the only hope the Christian faith has is for small, committed communities of faith, disconncted from the power politics of the world and living as alternative examples of how to be in the world, to do their best, and to let these other, perverted and deformed takes on the faith to wither and die, like they are on their way to doing. Maybe, after all that, the faith can grow again, not in power, but in faithfulness.

That sounds very defeatist and depressed. But that’s how the majority of public Christians make me, as someone who has studied the faith and committed myself to it, feel about those who I share the moniker “Christian” with. Maybe I’m being too hard on them. Maybe I’m being overly judgmental or failing to practice understanding. But I am trying to understand. And it leads me to judgement and anger and resignation to watching something that is very important to people die away. Thank God my hope is not founded in them.