For more than two years into Donald Trump’s first and only term, American journalists and their commentariat were slow to recognise the terrifying implications of what was then called the former president’s “shredding” of “norms”. With news laden with euphemisms for the president’s lies, and official reports describing his daily assaults on democracy as “potential risks”, it was as if the entire country couldn’t see the forest for the trees.
Namely, that there was a tyrant in the White House, and they might not be able to get him out.
At yesterday’s seventh hearing of the January 6 Committee, no such blindness was evident. Led by chairman Bennie Thompson, the committee set forth the evidence for the sixth prong of Trump’s assault on fair elections, the rule of law and the peaceful transfer of power.
Coups can be bloodless. Indeed, all five of Trump’s prior attempts to retain power against the expressed will of the people could be described this way. But after Trump failed to derail the peaceful transfer of power by pressing on the courts, by pressuring state legislators and election officials to change the results, by submitting fake slates of electors, by leaning on the Department of Justice, and by pressuring his vice president to refuse to count electoral votes, all that remained was the muscle and a clown car of external advisers like Sidney Powell fantasising about the military seizing voting machines. When the latter was put to bed by White House staff, Trump’s final effort to retain power by force was underway.
According to Jason Van Tatenhove, the Oath Keepers played a key role in violently assaulting police, crashing through crowd-control barriers, and smashing windows to invade the Capitol on January 6. He should know. He was a spokesman for a group he described as “dangerous” and “violent militia”, comprising the “alt right, white nationalists, and even straight up racists”. Their vision of the United States matched what we saw on January 6, according to Van Tatenhove. “It doesn’t necessarily include the rule of law … it includes violence. It includes trying to get their way through lies, through deceit, through intimidation, and through the perpetration of violence.”
If Van Tatenhouse was the penitent, the other man giving evidence before the committee, Stephen Ayres, was the chump. Ayres, who was a cabinet maker of 20 years, lost his job and his home after being charged with following paramilitary forces into the Capitol. Indeed, following was what Ayres did best, including coming to the Capitol because Trump’s social media posts told him to “be there” and leaving after Trump’s belated 4.17pm tweet of “come out”, telling him to go home. “I was hanging on every word he was saying,” Ayres told the committee.
So, what was the point of such personal and detailed testimony detailing facts that those paying attention have known for weeks, if not months? The strongest clue comes from Republican vice-chair of the committee Liz Cheney’s opening statement.
“Millions of Americans … did not have access to the truth [about election fraud] like Donald Trump did. They put their faith and their trust in Donald Trump. They wanted to believe in him. They wanted to fight for their country, and he deceived them. For millions of Americans that may be painful to accept, but it is true.”
It’s the national reconciliation piece again, this time with direct outreach from and to white, working-class men. “I got away from all the social media … consider myself a family man and I love my country. I don’t think any one man is bigger than one of those things,” Ayres told the committee, before confessing “I felt like I had horse blinders on”.
Will it work? Who knows, though I note that the gender-diverse, multi-ethnic array of Capitol police stationed behind the witness table looked like a sceptical Greek chorus. Indeed, many of their brethren remained so when, after the hearing closed, Ayres went through the room offering a personal apology to law enforcement officers — or to the spouses of those who were wounded or killed during the insurgency.
Perhaps this is why this hearing, for me anyway, failed to pack as much of a punch as earlier ones. It wasn’t designed for me.
