Nothing I could write here about House Republicans and the cannibalism that has paralyzed Congress, amid international crises and the threat of a government shutdown, could be worse than what the Republicans were saying about themselves, and to one another, as they remained divided over who should be the House speaker.
Worst of all are the profanity-filled death threats from the Republicans’ radicalized voters, whipped up by right-wing media figures and groups including the gun lobby. At least one Republican’s wife now sleeps with a loaded gun. Another had a sheriff’s deputy assigned to his daughter’s school. This broken party has given frightening new meaning to the old saw about forming a circular firing squad.
All because a minority of House Republicans finally showed some spine and last week blocked Rep. Jim Jordan of Ohio — a party-busting vandal, Jan. 6 seditionist, alleged enabler of sexual abuse, would-be impeacher of President Joe Biden and all-around, far-right “legislative terrorist” (a fellow Republican’s words, not mine) — from getting the most powerful job in Congress.
But rejecting Jordan, as welcome as that is, still left a vacant speakership. And no one in the House majority could win the gavel until Mike Johnson on Wednesday.
This saga has exposed for the world just how bad things have gotten for the Republican Party: It has grown so anti-government that it can’t even govern its own caucus in the House, the one institution where it holds power.
And that’s because so many in the party — elected officials and voters — won’t be led. Republicans have the majority in the House, but it’s a majority in name only. In reality, the House Republicans are an amalgam of competing factions, from right to far-right to extremist, and party members genuinely loathe one another more than they dislike Democrats.
Conservative media and social media stardom have turned even the most junior and otherwise inconsequential figures — say, Florida Rep. Matt Gaetz, the architect of the speakerless anarchy — into power brokers who insist on having their sway. Like-minded conservative voters — small-dollar donors steeped in Fox News — bankroll the chaos agents; Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene, that Georgia peach of a provocateur, is among Congress’ most successful fundraisers.
Here’s how insurgent and “Beetlejuice” fan Rep. Lauren Boebert of Colorado explained why House Republicans could not agree on a speaker: “There are 224 alpha males and alpha females who are here in the Republican Party. We are here because we convinced hundreds of thousands of people that we are leaders.”
No matter the speaker mess has ended, that perverse reward system will remain. And the House under Republican “leadership” will be all but ungovernable through the 2024 election.
Former Speaker Nancy Pelosi had a similarly thin Democratic majority yet managed to shepherd major legislation, some of it bipartisan. But here’s the difference: Democrats believe in governance. Too many Republicans do not; their credo has shifted over the last quarter-century from small government to anti-government. We’re watching the result.
Again, take it from a Republican: “Frankly, it doesn’t matter who the speaker is,” Rep. Mike Lawler of New York said, “because if we can’t govern as a group, as a conference, it doesn’t matter.”
But they need someone — the country needs someone — so Congress can function. Government funding runs out Nov. 17. Biden is sending a request for aid to Ukraine and Israel. Other essential legislation, including agriculture and defense bills, is pending.
Many Republicans have tried to shift the blame for the fiasco onto Democrats because they all opposed Kevin McCarthy and then Jordan — as if Republicans would have voted to retain Pelosi had an insurgent Democrat ever moved to unseat her.
But they know the blame actually lies with themselves — thus the name-calling and near-fisticuffs.
They needed to come together, if only temporarily. And then voters should fire them in 2024.
Jackie Calmes is a columnist for the Los Angeles Times.
