Hakeem Jeffries, an anti-democracy leader of the Democratic Party, has already spammed my e-inbox with half a dozen messages gloating about the inability of the Republican House majority to elect a Speaker and get started with legislative business. (As I had not known until today, Representatives cannot take their oaths of office until a Speaker is in place to swear them in. The most powerful member of the House is elected by men and women who have not yet made or renewed their oaths to uphold the Constitution of the United States.)
Every news story about this stasis mentions that nothing like it has occurred for the past one hundred years, not since 1923, when nine ballots were taken before Frederick Huntington Gillett was elected Speaker of the House for the third time.
The current contretemps echoes the previous one in some ways. Speaker Gillett, like Speaker-aspirant Kevin McCarthy, did not stand out. First elected to Congress in 1892, he was a conventional Republican of his time and rose to the Speakership mostly through longevity. He followed a succession of domineering Speakers – “Czar” Reed, Joe Cannon, Champ Clark. He was chosen, in part, because he was not expected to be like them, and he wasn’t. He was a “go along, get along” type, more prominent on the Washington social scene than in the Capitol building.
When he first became Speaker, in 1919, the GOP had just reversed the eight years of Democratic control that had flowed from the Republican-Progressive split. In 1920, running under Warren Harding’s banner of “Return to Normalcy”, the Republican majority ballooned from 240-195 to 302-133. In the off-year election of 1922, though, Republicans, weighed down by scandals, lost a net of 77 seats, retaining 225 versus 210 held by Democrats and left-wing splinter parties.
The narrow majority included two dissident groups: “drys”, who demanded strict enforcement of the recently enacted Eighteenth Amendment, and a small cadre of progressives loyal to Wisconsin Senator Robert LaFollette (who would run for President as a third party candidate in 1924). Near the close of the previous Congress (the 67th, which, under the system then in place, adjourned sine die in March 1923), the drys had floated the idea of putting up a candidate against Gillett, who was reputed to be skeptical of Prohibition. That effort died out fairly quickly.
The progressives waited until the 68th Congress convened on December 3, 1923, to make their move. Then 22 Republicans voted for candidates for Speaker other than Gillett. Their object wasn’t to elect someone else. As the Boston Globe observed at the time:
The insurgents neither tried to elect nor to defeat a speaker today. They were aiming over his head at the machine behind him. Their object in blocking the election was to bring the Old Guard to terms in making up the Rules Committee and other powerful committees and in modifying the custom of railroading bills through the House without permitting amendments to be offered from the floor. [Boston Globe, p. 12 (Dec. 4, 1923)
After a day of negotiations, the factions reached a compromise, and Rep. Gillett was reelected on December 5th after nine ballots.
In some respects, the progressives’ complaint in 1923 resembles that of the present-day holdouts.
But what exactly do the these Republican holdouts want?
Texas’s Chip Roy, one of the original 19 rebels, offered this answer on the House floor yesterday: “I want the tools or I want the leadership to stop the swamp from running over the average American every single day.”
The statement is somewhat vague – the “leadership” Roy wants would be a speaker such as Jim Jordan of Ohio, but it’s not clear what “the tools” are that Roy could be given in exchange for a “yes” vote for McCarthy.
Roy elaborated somewhat in an interview with CNN’s Jake Tapper on Tuesday. “I need to make sure that the Rules Committee is structured in such a way that those of us who are what I would call fiscal conservatives” are able “to stop the sort of train of the swamp,” Roy said.
The great difference between the two sets of rebels is that the 1923 progressives were ideologically distant from the rest of the Republican Party. Their not-so-covert hope (which would be largely disappointed) was that, if the House rules were reformed, an alliance of progressives and Democrats would wield a majority that could block President Coolidge’s legislative agenda.
The 2023 malcontents have hardly any notable policy disagreements with the rest of their party. Perhaps Jim Geraghty is correct to say, “Right now, in the House, the GOP is a nominal or technical majority party with a large faction which has no interest in acting like a majority. They may well be happier being in the minority.” He quotes a recent (pay-walled) essay in the Financial Times, which argues that an irrepressible thirst for drama, rather than any incompetence in governing, “is what stops populists holding power for long”.
Put another way, fascism is about winning and doing. Populism is about losing and cocking a snook at the winners. As a movement, it is at its happiest as a large minority of the electorate: enough to sustain its own media ecosystem, provide earning opportunities for grifters and perhaps sway the official policy of the day.
The most vociferous of the GOP populists insist that Kevin McCarthy, Mitch McConnell and their ilk don’t really want to win. But who is trying hard not to win this time? To quote Jim Geraghty again:
Every now and then, the hashtag “#DemsInDisarray” spreads on Twitter, and oftentimes it is fair. But a certain amount of internal friction and squabbling is more or less baked into the cake of being a majority party. You’ve got more members and more factions, all pushing for their priorities to be atop the to-do list. It’s not that, say, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Abigail Spanberger agree on everything. It’s just that they’re rarely willing to let those differences become such an issue that the party can’t get things done. Both the progressives and centrists – eh, let’s face it, hardline progressives and slightly less hardline progressives – believe they have a vested interest in a functioning legislative majority. Based on what we’re seeing on Capitol Hill this week, a small but pivotal number of House Republicans just don’t feel any obligation to help their party get things done.
Why are Democrats more frequently in the majority in legislative chambers? Well, it probably helps that all their members want to be in the majority.