The leadership shrug is a remarkable new political gesture.
Members of Congress who declared their opposition to Lyndon Johnson’s most important legislative priorities tended to be woken by phone calls in the middle of the night from an angry president. Johnson was fond of physiological imagery, so members of his party who declared their independence would hear that he planned to cut their throats or alter their sexual anatomy. In profane rants, holdouts learned that federal spending for things like highways was about to become quite scarce in their district or their state, and everyone back home was going to know who had caused the sudden money drought with his stupidity.
In person, the “Johnson Treatment” – “an incredible, potent mixture of persuasion, badgering, flattery, threats, reminders of past favors and future advantages” – was known for its physical aggression, as the 6’4″ president leaned forward and shoved his face into deeply uncomfortable proximity with men who weren’t getting with the program. When he met with members of Congress, Johnson wasn’t asking.
Last week, Senate Republicans announced that they just don’t have the votes to pass the SAVE America Act, an election security bill with measures that Republican voters have strongly supported for years. “That’s just a function of math, and there isn’t anything I can do about that,” Senate Majority Leader John Thune said. This is how Republicans are pretending that Congress works: Leaders ask every member what they feel like doing, and then the members all say how they want to vote, and then leadership accepts their decision and the conversation ends. A caucus is a counting mechanism, and can’t be anything else. Thune’s “there isn’t anything I can do about that” is a gesture of make-believe helplessness that defies 250 years of legislative history.