logo
Now You See Josh Hawley, Now You Don't

Now You See Josh Hawley, Now You Don't

New York Times07-07-2025
Senator Josh Hawley sure knows how to scurry away.
The Missouri Republican showed as much on Jan. 6, 2021, when he gave that infamous clenched-fist salute to the unruly mob bound for the Capitol — go get 'em, tigers! — then sprinted like terrified prey through the halls of Congress to evade them. He later wrote and plugged a book titled 'Manhood: The Masculine Virtues America Needs.' It extolled virility, valor, grit. All the qualities that he embodied on that heroic day.
And which he just modeled anew in voting for President Trump's monstrously big but not even marginally beautiful domestic policy bill. For months before Hawley fell meekly in line last week, he sought and got enormous attention for being a holdout, a maverick, someone willing to tell the president uncomfortable truths and determined to prove that the MAGA movement really was looking out for the little people. His fist was once again clenched, his arm once again raised, this time in defense of the health insurance on which so many less privileged Americans depend.
'We must ignore calls to cut Medicaid and start delivering on America's promise for America's working people,' he wrote in a guest essay for Times Opinion in May. It was 'must,' not should. It was declarative, not ruminative. He explained that 'slashing health insurance for the working poor' would be 'both morally wrong and politically suicidal.' He sounded like a warrior — and a masculine one, at that! — manning the barricades.
Which, inevitably, he abandoned. The arc of Republican lawmakers in the Trump era bends toward complete submission. That's the posture in which Hawley and other Senate Republicans granted the president his financially reckless and needlessly cruel agenda.
Back in November, I observed that the second Trump administration would test the Senate even more than the first one had, revealing 'how shamefully far from its onetime description as 'the world's greatest deliberative body' it has strayed.' The verdict is in. Having rubber-stamped many ridiculous senior administration officials, Senate Republicans have now signed off on a sprawling policy package that will, according to the nonpartisan Congressional Budget Office, add more than $3 trillion to the federal debt over the next decade, even as it cuts over $1 trillion from Medicaid and results in nearly 12 million Americans losing their health insurance.
The legislation makes a mockery of the party's longtime claims of prudent fiscal stewardship. And as Senator Thom Tillis, Republican of North Carolina, explained in a Senate speech, it 'will betray the very promise' that Trump made not to go after people's Medicaid.
Want all of The Times? Subscribe.
Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

Wisconsin Lt. Gov. Sara Rodriguez enters 2026 governor race, calls Trump a 'maniac'
Wisconsin Lt. Gov. Sara Rodriguez enters 2026 governor race, calls Trump a 'maniac'

Yahoo

time16 minutes ago

  • Yahoo

Wisconsin Lt. Gov. Sara Rodriguez enters 2026 governor race, calls Trump a 'maniac'

Wisconsin Lt. Gov. Sara Rodriguez enters 2026 governor race, calls Trump a 'maniac' MADISON, Wis. (AP) — Wisconsin Democratic Lt. Gov. Sara Rodriguez entered the battleground state's open race for governor on Friday by calling President Donald Trump a 'maniac,' as she attempts to differentiate herself in what is expected to be a crowded primary. A second Democrat, Milwaukee County Executive David Crowley, said in a statement Friday that in the weeks ahead he 'will be taking steps toward entering the race." Wisconsin's 2026 governor's race is open with no incumbent running for the first time since 2010. Democratic Gov. Tony Evers announced Thursday that he would not seek a third term. Both Rodriguez and Crowley would make history if elected. Rodriguez, a former emergency room nurse, would be Wisconsin's first woman governor and Crowley would be the first Black governor. Several other Democrats are expected to join the race. 'We've got a maniac in the White House,' Rodriguez said in a campaign launch video. 'His tariffs are killing our farmers and his policies are hurting our kids.' Rodriguez has been lieutenant governor since 2023, after previously serving one two-year term in the state Assembly representing suburban Milwaukee, where she lives. She won a seat that had been under Republican control for years. Rodriguez emphasized her background working previously as a nurse in a Baltimore emergency room, saying she wanted to continue Evers' emphasis on fighting to protect reproductive freedom, invest in public schools and rebuild the economy. She noted that the state Legislature is within reach of Democratic control, meaning that with a Democratic governor, they could finally enact policies Republicans have blocked for years like expanding Medicaid. A registered nurse, Rodriguez previously worked as a health care executive and an epidemic intelligence service officer with the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. She has a master's degree in public health. Rodriguez emphasized the importance of health care, including protecting abortion rights, in a brief speech she delivered on the first night of the Democratic National Convention in Chicago last year. Rodriguez, who is married with two children, launched her candidacy on her 50th birthday. In her first run for office in 2020, when she was elected to the Legislature, Rodriguez said she was motivated to get into politics because of how Republicans handled the COVID-19 pandemic. Rodriguez won the Democratic primary for lieutenant governor in 2022 after then-Lt. Gov. Mandela Barnes, who held the office in Evers' first term, decided to run for the Senate. Barnes, who lost that race to Republican Sen. Ron Johnson, is among several Democrats considering a run for governor next year. Others include Attorney General Josh Kaul, state Sen. Kelda Roys, Secretary of State Sarah Godlewski and Milwaukee Mayor Cavalier Johnson. On the Republican side, Washington County Executive Josh Schoemann and suburban Milwaukee businessman Bill Berrien are the only announced candidates. Others, including U.S. Rep. Tom Tiffany and state Senate President Mary Felzkowski, are considering it. Scott Bauer, The Associated Press

July 2025 is when the Trump era started to end
July 2025 is when the Trump era started to end

The Hill

time17 minutes ago

  • The Hill

July 2025 is when the Trump era started to end

It took six months into President Trump's second term to get here, but something shifted in Trump World this month. The administration's handling of the Jeffrey Epstein case — including its assertion that a 'client list' doesn't exist — sent tremors through the MAGA ecosystem, creating a permission structure for key players on the right to start treating Trump like a lame duck. This was a significant development, even though there are obvious reasons to view Trump this way. Constitutional limits prevent him from running again after 2024. That alone creates an expiration date on his relevance that even the most obsequious loyalists can't ignore forever. Then there's the Epstein connection, which didn't just put a fresh stink on an already scandal-soaked politician. It found him on the wrong side of a definitive MAGA narrative. It's one thing to be indicted multiple times; it's quite another to be entangled in the biggest conspiracy theory of our era. But there's something else in the air: Trump looks old. We may have grown accustomed to his ALL CAPS rants, but the physical symptoms are harder to normalize — the swollen ankles. The makeup caked awkwardly on his hands. Taken together — the reality of Trump's lame-duck status, being out of touch with much of his base and now the physical deterioration — we are left with a picture of a man whose once iron-clad grip on his party is finally beginning to loosen. The base might not say it outright. MAGA influencers certainly won't admit it — but they absolutely see it. And more importantly, they're starting to act on it. The jostling has begun. For this reason, it's no longer absurdly premature to start talking about succession. And, for my money, there are three leading contenders. Vice President JD Vance — seemingly the obvious successor — is clearly positioning himself as heir apparent to Trumpism 2.0: similar themes, better vocabulary, a little more polish and (crucially) a future. Tucker Carlson now also seems to be testing out what it would look like to actually run for office. And Donald Trump Jr. is lurking around the perimeter; the assumption is that his name will carry him somewhere, though it's not clear where (or even if) anyone would follow him. For those hoping the MAGA spell would break post-Trump, the prospects are strikingly bleak. These three men all occupy somewhat similar turf — a figure like Nikki Haley will not be not on this list. Trumpism will survive, albeit without Trump. But winning the internecine battle to lead this movement might be a Pyrrhic victory. Trump's coalition cannot be inherited any more than his celebrity status or charisma can. The coalition wasn't built to outlive 2024. It is an unruly jumble of people with wildly incompatible worldviews, glued together by little more than shared grievance and a cult of personality. It includes paleoconservative nationalists and neoconservative interventionists, Christian fundamentalists and manosphere libertines, fans of McDonald's and crunchy health nuts. And it worked, somehow, in 2024 — but only for Trump. This has always been the dirty secret of Trumpism: It's not transferrable. You could see it in the 2018 midterms, when Republicans took a beating without Trump on the ballot. You saw it again in 2022, when a rogues' gallery of Trump-endorsed candidates flopped spectacularly. The Trump base doesn't show up for the brand — it shows up for the man. So what happens when the man is gone? We're about to find out. For the first time in nearly a decade, the right is confronting a future without a clear standard-bearer. And every would-be successor faces the same paradox: To win Trump's base, you have to sound like Trump. But the more you sound like Trump, the more you remind people you're not him. It's difficult to imagine that any of the frontrunners could maintain the same patchwork coalition. Vance might be able to pick off the nationalist-intellectual set, but he lacks Trump's charisma, and gives off oily politician vibes. Tucker might dominate the culture-war lane. Don Jr. might do okay with the too-online meme crowd. But no one can put Humpty Dumpty back together again. Because the thing they're all trying to inherit — Trumpism— isn't an ideology. It's a person. This is the tragedy and farce of the post-Trump GOP: It bet everything on a single man, and now it has no idea how to function without him. Trump hollowed out the party, scorched the institutions and rewired the voter base. And he will likely leave behind a political husk that still bears his name but contains little of his animating style. Of course, Trump isn't gone yet. Republicans — thanks, perhaps, to their plans to gerrymander Texas — could still hold on to Congress in November. Maybe Trump can ultimately find a way to outrun the Epstein controversy and set the terms for the next four years. And, regardless, he could also play a vital role in picking (or sabotaging) whoever inherits his mantle. But that doesn't change the fact that his era is already ending. The spell is finally starting to wear off. And somewhere, just beneath the surface, it feels like the scramble for 2028 has already begun. The question isn't whether someone can pick up the torch. It's whether that person can prevent the flame from being extinguished entirely.

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store