The worst job in America has just become available. On Tuesday, after a weeks-long struggle with his caucus to fund the government and avert a government shutdown had proved fruitless and Kevin McCarthy had at last conceded to compromise with the Democrats, Republicans, led by Florida’s Matt Gaetz and other members of the far-right, Trumpist Freedom Caucus, voted McCarthy out of the House speakership.
He is the first speaker of the House to ever be removed from his post by a vote – a technique that was only possible because McCarthy had made so many procedural concessions to get the speakership in the first place. It took McCarthy 15 votes to achieve the speakership when the Republicans took control of the House back in January; it took him 269 days to lose it. Now, the job will be someone else’s problem.
McCarthy’s ouster comes as House Republicans confront a caucus that is increasingly nihilistic, intent on obstructionism, chaos and pulling the kind of public stunts that make for good fundraising emails. Much of the party’s congressional delegation is in thrall to Donald Trump – or at least, they feel that their seats depend on convincing their primary electorate that they are. And his is not a faction much concerned with coalition building, difficult choices or the hard work of actually governing.
If anything, that’s what they seem to have ousted McCarthy for doing. Late last week, the Republicans seemed poised to tip the country over into a government shutdown, suspending crucial services like food stamps and suspending pay for everyone from soldiers to air traffic controllers to national parks rangers. This was because when it came time to pass a continuing resolution to fund the government, the far-right Republican caucus couldn’t take yes for an answer. McCarthy had agreed to more and more cuts to social spending, more and more cuts to Ukraine aid, and more and more money for the sadistic and strategically pointless militarization of the border. None of it was enough: the Republicans in his caucus kept demanding more and more, contradicting each other and taking every opportunity to say something nonsensically self-righteous into a camera.
The simple fact is that last week, as the clock dwindled down to a government shutdown, Republicans weren’t accepting any of the deals that he offered them because making an actual deal to keep the government running is not in the interests of Republican congressmen – interests which they seem to understand as encompassing little more than maximizing attention to themselves. Unable to pass a resolution with only Republican votes, McCarthy crossed the Rubicon of Republican politics: he compromised with the Democrats. And in so doing, he sealed his fate: he gave attention-hungry members of his caucus a chance to demonstrate that they were more rightwing than he is.
Could Democrats have voted to uphold McCarthy’s speakership, and averted the disaster that now surely will follow? Maybe. But it’s not clear why they would. There is no love lost for McCarthy on the Democratic side. Democrats have soured on the onetime Republican House leader at least since the aftermath of the January 6 insurrection, when McCarthy, like many Republicans, initially condemned the riots, only to eventually walk back his condemnation of the violence and eagerly seek to repair his relationship to Donald Trump.
They have not exactly been more endeared to him by the events of the past week. McCarthy insisted over and over that he would only accept a strictly Republican continuing resolution, and then folded when he needed Democrats’ help; by way of thanks, he went on the Sunday shows this weekend to blame them for the shutdown’s near-miss. Why should they have voted for him to remain speaker? They have neither the incentive nor the obligation to save him from his own mistakes.
McCarthy’s ouster is a symptom of Republican dysfunction. To many of his Republican foes, notably Gaetz, the dislike of McCarthy appears to be intensely personal, ascending beyond policy differences or factional loyalties into a contempt of character. Mitch McConnell has clashed with him over Ukraine; other members of the Freedom Caucus have cast him as soft and untrustworthy. Republicans have descended into backbiting, disunity and petty competitions of egos. The party is beholden to a base that it has fed misinformation and trained to view politics as high-stakes entertainment. If they were women, we would call this a catfight. But they’re men, at least for the most part, and so we call it politics.
The Republicans cannot govern and it remains to be seen whether they will even be able to elect a new speaker. Their internal dissent is not compatible with governing, with democratic aspiration, with the dignity or responsibility of power. But to them, that might not matter. Their nihilistic, sadistic and exclusionary worldview does not really need to govern, or build a coalition, or make things better for Americans: it just needs to stop the other party from being able to do so. In this sense, they’re getting exactly what they want: a fight. Meanwhile, there are those on Capitol Hill acting in unison, with uncanny discipline, allowing their opponents to destroy one another without so much as lifting a finger: the House Democrats.
Moira Donegan is a Guardian US columnist