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Jamelle Bouie

By Jamelle Bouie

Opinion Columnist

Late last month, Senator Mitch McConnell of Kentucky announced that he would leave his position as Republican leader after the November elections. He’ll depart as the longest-serving party leader in the Senate’s history. He is also the longest-serving senator in Kentucky history.

There’s no question that McConnell is one of the most consequential politicians of his generation. This isn’t a compliment. McConnell is not consequential for what he accomplished as a legislator or legislative leader — he’s no Robert F. Wagner or Everett Dirksen. He’s consequential for what he’s done to degrade and diminish American democracy.

McConnell, as the journalist Alec MacGillis noted in “The Cynic: The Political Education of Mitch McConnell,” was never driven by ideology. He was a moderate, pro-choice Republican before he became a hard-right, conservative one. “What has motivated McConnell has not been a particular vision for the government or the country, but the game of politics and career advancement in its own right,” MacGillis wrote in 2014.

It is a politics of the will to power, in which the only thing that matters is partisan victory. “At some point along the way,” MacGillis wrote, “Mitch McConnell decided that his own longevity in Washington trumped all — that he would even be willing to feed the public’s disillusionment with its elected leaders if it would increase his and his party’s odds of success at the polls.”

McConnell’s quest for power, no matter the cost, explains how he became a fierce opponent of campaign finance reform, doing everything he could to help flood American politics with the unaccountable money of anonymous billionaires and other wealthy interests.

That same quest for power is what brought us his now infamous declaration that “the single most important thing we want to achieve is for President Obama to be a one-term president,” which he operationalized by weaponizing the filibuster to effectively end majority rule in the Senate. The rules were changed decades before his ascent to the leadership of the Republican conference in 2007, but it was McConnell who established the de facto 60-vote threshold for legislation that keeps most items from reaching the floor, much less getting a vote.

The routine use of the filibuster to gum up the works is a McConnell innovation. And while he’s often described as an institutionalist, with the respect that implies for the Senate as a working body, the main effect of McConnell’s strategy of obstruction has been to erode Congress’s ability to govern the country. You might even say that Donald Trump’s promise, during his 2016 campaign, to personally seize control of the federal government (“I alone can fix it”) fed directly on the dysfunction produced by McConnell’s commitment to congressional gridlock.

As bad as that is, however, it is only the beginning of McConnell’s responsibility for Trump. His decision to deny a hearing to Obama’s third Supreme Court nominee, Merrick Garland, turned the 2016 presidential election into a contest for ideological control of the court. The prospect of a solid right-wing majority on the court unified the Republican coalition behind Trump. It helped him consolidate wary conservative voters, including evangelicals, and pushed skeptical Republican lawmakers to fall in line behind the demagogic reality television star. There is a real sense in which Trump owes his victory over Hillary Clinton to that vacant seat on the Supreme Court.

Of course, McConnell was always quick to share his distaste for Trump’s language, behavior and overall countenance. He was, after all, a man of Washington: a staid figure of the permanent Republican establishment, a regular presence on Sunday panel shows and at events like the White House Correspondents’ Dinner. But McConnell was nothing if not business first, and Trump was a vehicle for realizing his partisan and political goals.

The Senate Republican leader would defend Trump from Democratic scrutiny during his first impeachment trial. He would stand by Trump throughout the 2020 presidential race, even as Trump mismanaged a deadly pandemic. And while McConnell would condemn Trump for the events of Jan. 6, 2021 — he said the former president was “morally responsible” and had engaged in a “disgraceful dereliction of duty” — he refused to hold Trump accountable. As Alexander Burns and Jonathan Martin reported in “This Will Not Pass: Trump, Biden and the Battle for America’s Future,” McConnell justified himself by telling two associates, “The Democrats are going to take care of the son of a bitch for us.” He voted “not guilty” in the subsequent impeachment trial.

Given the opportunity to show real leadership, McConnell withered in the face not of pressure, but of the potential for pressure: the chance that he might have to explain himself to other Republicans. “I didn’t get to be leader by voting with five people in the conference,” McConnell said, discussing his decision to vote to acquit Trump. Perhaps if he had actually acted as a leader, more than a handful of Republicans would have voted to convict Trump and the former president would not be poised to win office a second time.

Mitch McConnell devoted his life to the acquisition of power. One imagines that power grants freedom. It does, but only to an extent, for we are also bound by the habits of mind we form and cultivate in our quest to obtain power. The Mitch McConnell with the strength of character to confront Trump in the wake of his crime against the American republic is almost certainly not the Mitch McConnell with the power to do so. The McConnell with the power to do so was, and is, a coward.

This is why the most fitting coda to McConnell’s career was not the speech he gave announcing his decision to step down as Republican leader, but the statement he made the following week. “It is abundantly clear that former President Trump has earned the requisite support of Republican voters to be our nominee for president of the United States,” McConnell announced after Trump’s victory on Super Tuesday. “It should come as no surprise that as nominee, he will have my support.”

McConnell is right — his support for Trump came as no surprise. When he goes for good in January 2027, McConnell will not leave the Senate as a statesman. He will leave it as handmaiden to a would-be despot.

The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here's our email: letters@nytimes.com.

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Jamelle Bouie became a New York Times Opinion columnist in 2019. Before that he was the chief political correspondent for Slate magazine. He is based in Charlottesville, Va., and Washington. @jbouie

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QOSHE - Mitch McConnell Doesn’t Wear a MAGA Hat. I’m Not Fooled. - Jamelle Bouie
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Mitch McConnell Doesn’t Wear a MAGA Hat. I’m Not Fooled.

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12.03.2024

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Supported by

Jamelle Bouie

By Jamelle Bouie

Opinion Columnist

Late last month, Senator Mitch McConnell of Kentucky announced that he would leave his position as Republican leader after the November elections. He’ll depart as the longest-serving party leader in the Senate’s history. He is also the longest-serving senator in Kentucky history.

There’s no question that McConnell is one of the most consequential politicians of his generation. This isn’t a compliment. McConnell is not consequential for what he accomplished as a legislator or legislative leader — he’s no Robert F. Wagner or Everett Dirksen. He’s consequential for what he’s done to degrade and diminish American democracy.

McConnell, as the journalist Alec MacGillis noted in “The Cynic: The Political Education of Mitch McConnell,” was never driven by ideology. He was a moderate, pro-choice Republican before he became a hard-right, conservative one. “What has motivated McConnell has not been a particular vision for the government or the country, but the game of politics and career advancement in its own right,” MacGillis wrote in 2014.

It is a politics of the will to power, in which the only thing that matters is partisan victory. “At some point along the way,” MacGillis wrote, “Mitch McConnell decided that his own longevity in Washington trumped all — that he would even be willing to feed the public’s disillusionment with its elected leaders if it would increase his and his party’s odds of success at the polls.”

McConnell’s quest for power, no matter the cost, explains how he became a fierce opponent of campaign finance reform, doing everything he could to help flood American politics with the unaccountable money of anonymous billionaires and other........

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