The fog of democracy on day of disorder

It was a tense but beautiful morning in the fog of Democracy. Then Wednesday afternoon the mist turned to a blanket of confusion led by a madman, and we are left wondering whether the events at the U.S. Capitol were merely tragic or truly a sign of an American collapse.

In Hartford, Democrats and Republicans celebrated the singular moment on the calendar, opening day of the General Assembly, when the parties proclaim they’ll work together, when leaders praise each other. They raised their right

hands for an oath — outdoors, this time, as a loud but peaceful protester in a crowd of 500 shouted, “This is our building and we own it, and we’re fed up!”

In Georgia, one party celebrated while the other stewed. But it was, by most accounts, a clean and fair election as Democrats ran the table and reclaimed control of the U.S. Senate.

In Washington, D.C., the two most important Republicans in the transfer of power — Vice President Mike Pence and Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell — appeared to be doing the right things, urging an orderly vote to certify the November election, finally.

Gov. Ned Lamont, speaking only on a pre-recorded video for his annual state-of-the-state speech, proclaimed, “Today is the first day of Connecticut’s comeback story.”

Before a protest mob stormed the U.S. Capitol, it seemed natural to tie all these weird scenes of democracy together — an opening day, the calling of the most important special election in modern history and a vote to certify a presidential election — as a political universe spinning ahead, somehow, despite COVID-19 and a U.S. president who has lost his mind, inviting, inciting, protesters to cross all lines.

Newly minted state Sen. Paul Cicarella Jr., R-North Haven, held his young son, Paul III, just before the swearing in for his firstever elected office. Afterward, we joked as I called him “senator,” the first time that’s happened, and he didn’t immediately turn around.

“This is all new to me,” said Cicarella, who holds the seat vacated by retiring former GOP Leader Len Fasano. “I’m excited to get started... now I put my hand down and it’s time to go to work.”

“It’s Epiphany,” Rep. Anne Hughes, D-Easton, referring to the holiday Christians celebrated Wednesday, “so it’s like the Epiphany for America...Let’s get it together here so hopefully the rest of America can follow.”

In the ornate state House chamber, the three top leaders, all new in their roles, delivered heartfelt speeches thanking their families and hailing bipartisan spirits. Minority Leader Vin Candelora, R-North Branford, had to halt briefly as he talked about how the pandemic has affected his son, Thomas, a high school senior and football standout.

“Today was a great day,” House Speaker Matt Ritter said from his large, new office at the Capitol after gaveling the brief session to a close.

Then the mood changed — after the pols exited the state Capitol, after the Democrats claimed victory in Georgia — as the House and Senate debated the Electoral College results.

And the pattern was clear: Every decent person condemned the mob’s forced entry into the symbol of American democracy.

Democrats, to a person, blamed Trump.

Most Republicans mentioned the president only when forced. Some criticized him but none that I could find — except former U.S. Rep. Chris Shays, a passionate anti-Trumper — agreed that Trump, alone, caused the mayhem and could have stopped it by conceding cleanly.

“We were all so hopeful at the beginning of the day and now all hell has broken loose,” Hughes said after leaving the state Capitol. “Were we just frickin naïve? I think we were.”

President-elect Joe Biden called for calm. “The work of the moment and the work of the next four years must be the restoration of democracy, of decency, honor, respect, the rule of law. Just plain, simple decency,” he said. “America is about honor, decency, respect, tolerance. That’s who we are, that’s who we’ve always been.”

Sadly, it’s not that simple. Candelora, as decent a public servant as you’ll find, decried the protesters’ violence in D.C. when I caught up with him after he had stopped off at Ludal’s in North Haven with Rep. Dave Yaccarino. The folks in the restaurant, on both sides, were shocked that a mob could breach the Capitol, he recounted.

Yes, Candelora said, he wished Trump had conceded. And yes, he supports the Electoral College result with a clear win for Biden and would vote for it if he were in Congress. Certainly the events marred an otherwise hopeful day.

But Candelora wouldn’t blame Trump — and he said both sides share blame for politicizing violent behavior.

“This is the same thing we saw throughout the summer with protests and bombings and shootings,” Candelora said. “There are lines that get crossed, unfortunately, in our society and I will always support everybody’s right to express their opinions but it needs to be done in a peaceful way.”

Hughes, co-chair of the legislature’s progressive caucus, countered that the Black Lives Matter protests were peaceful, at least what she saw of them as she participated, and were met, unjustifiably, with police and soldiers in riot gear.

Remarkably, we saw the same reaction Wednesday at the Washington protest from Joe Visconti, a West Hartford resident, former candidate for governor and flamethrowing Trump backer. Visconti broadcast the events on Facetime for hours, giving a window into the marchers’ anger.

“That revolution we talk about? It’s happening right now,” an unshaven Visconti, wearing an off-white cowboy hat, said while walking through the scene, greeting fellow patriots, as they called themselves. “Most people here are peaceful and don’t even know what’s going on at the Capitol.”

Then Visconti said, “This is a different kind of rally...It’s peaceful,” then, in a lowered voice, “but it aint.”

Using the old, obvious comparison of the right wing, Visconti called Wednesday uprising “the shot that’s heard around the world, friends.”

“Joe Visconti, reporting from the nation’s Capitol where liberty just died,” he narrated, showing smoke from what he said was tear gas. “They just started beating people…They just started clubbing and they were just clubbing people out of here, folks. The war started today. This is not going to go away.”

That’s the worry. Sure, Visconti occupies the fringe, but then again, we thought that about Trump.

Ritter, a couple of hours removed from his first session as speaker, showed confidence in the system when I suggested the events in D.C. showed democracy is fragile.

“It creates chaos, it is scary. What you’re really doing is putting people in harm’s way. But it’s far from a coup,” Ritter said. “Do I worry about American democracy? No, because I think on Jan. 20, the country will turn a corner and Donald Trump will be in the rear view mirror.”

“What I think is fragile is people’s faith in government, people’s opinion of elected officials,” he added. “That’s fragile.”

Everyone on both sides believes Connecticut can be a model for political decorum. I’m skeptical about the whole picture, here and everywhere else, in the wake of Trump. Fragile faith is bad enough.