Republicans have a bad men problem
How upbeat is the Republican Party about its prospects for taking control of the House and Senate next year? So upbeat that it apparently is cool with the fact that in three Senate races — Georgia, Missouri and Pennsylvania — it has leading candidates who have been accused of harassing, abusing, threatening or otherwise mistreating women.
Once upon a time, this situation likely would have provoked a major display of concern, or at least an attempt at damage control, by the GOP establishment. Instead many party officials are brushing off related questions like pesky bits of dryer fluff.
While the particulars of these cases vary — the allegations, the candidates’ responses, the warmth of the party’s embrace — the creeping not-so-casual misogyny is indicative of the dark path down which former President Donald Trump continues to lead the GOP.
It is not simply that Trump has long worn his shabby treatment of women like a perverse merit badge — a symbol of how the rules of decent society do not apply to him. He also has made the Republican Party a welcoming place for other like-minded men. As president, rarely did he confront a harassment or abuse scandal in which he didn’t make clear his sympathies for the accused and his skepticism of the accusers. Pity the poor harasser. So misunderstood. So persecuted by humorless prigs. It almost takes the fun out of groping random chicks.
In Georgia, Herschel Walker has been accused of a host of erratic and frightening behavior, including threatening his ex-wife’s life while pointing a gun to her head. Some episodes he has denied. Others he has chalked up to his struggle with mental illness, about which he wrote a book in 2008. (He credits therapy and Christianity with saving him.) In September, Trump endorsed Walker. Party leaders, including Mitch Mcconnell, probably hope that Walker’s violent history won’t much bother voters, or better yet, that it will play as an inspiring redemption story.
In Missouri, Eric Greitens hopes for political vindication after stepping down as governor in 2018 amid a swirl of scandal. His bad behavior allegedly included threatening a woman with whom he’d had an affair to keep her trap shut about it or else he’d make public an explicit photo of her that he’d snapped without her permission.
Greitens is still in hot pursuit of Trump’s endorsement, but he already has a number of Trumpworld stars in his corner. Trump pollster Tony Fabrizio has signed on with the campaign, and Kimberly Guilfoyle, a former Trump campaign aide and Don Jr.’s girlfriend, is its national chair. Bernard Kerik, the former New York City police commissioner, and Rudy Giuliani, who at this point defies meaningful description, have stumped in the state for Greitens. Michael Flynn, Trump’s disgraced national security adviser, has given his endorsement.
Finally, in Pennsylvania, Sean Parnell is neck-deep in a custody battle with his estranged wife, who has testified that he verbally and physically abused her and their children. He has flatly denied all accusations.
Parnell was endorsed by Trump shortly before the controversy erupted. Other party leaders have been loath to comment on the unfolding drama. Asked recently whether, in light of the hubbub, Parnell was the right man to be the nominee, Sen. Rick Scott of Florida, the head of the National Republican Senatorial Committee, insisted it was inappropriate for him to take sides in a primary.
Impressive moral leadership. Republican officials are in a tough spot. Accusations of sexual misconduct or domestic violence are not necessarily disqualifying in the party of Trump. In some cases, they can be dismissed as lies — Trump’s preferred approach — a nefarious attack by haters. Bad behavior that is indisputable can always be pooh-poohed as unfortunate but of secondary importance within the larger battle against radical leftists.
For devout Trumpists, accusations of toxic masculinity can even be a comfort of sorts, a kind of corrective to a #Metoo movement that many in the Magaverse consider excessive and anti-man. Remember when two White House aides resigned over accusations of domestic violence in early 2018? Trump popped up on Twitter to whine, “Peoples lives are being shattered and destroyed by a mere allegation.” Later, during the Brett Kavanaugh hubbub, Trump bemoaned what a “scary” and “difficult” time it was to be a young man in America.
The rot goes beyond the disrespect and mistreatment of women. Under Trump, the Republican Party has undergone a fundamental shift, swapping a fixation on character and morality and so-called family values for a celebration of belligerence, violence and, yes, toxic masculinity. Greg Gianforte won his 2017 House race after “body slamming” a reporter who asked an unwelcome question. Charged with assault and sentenced to anger management classes and community service, Gianforte was praised by Trump as “my kind of guy” for his violent display. Last year, Montanans elected him governor.
This tendency is not restricted to the GOP’S men. Just look at the way MAGA extremists like Reps. Lauren Boebert of Colorado and Marjorie Taylor Greene of Georgia play up their swaggering, gun-toting images to the delight of the base. Before arriving in Congress, Greene got her kicks indulging social media fantasies about killing Democratic leaders.
Speaking of that, just last week, Rep. Paul Gosar of Arizona, a 62-year-old former dentist desperate to be known as a MAGA butt-kicker, got himself censured and stripped of committee assignments for posting an animated video depicting him slashing the throat of Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-cortez, the New York progressive. All but two of his Republican colleagues stuck by him. Boebert took to the House floor to deliver a barn-burning defense.
Whatever the misconduct of individual Republicans, the larger scandal is in the party’s collective group shrug.
When a party prizes thuggishness, it becomes harder and harder to figure out where to draw the line. The slope is not merely getting slipperier. It’s getting steeper.