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Welcome back to The Best & The Brightest, I’m Peter Hamby. In tonight’s edition, reporting from Virginia on the “draft GlennYoungkin” donor fantasy. (Sorry to be the one to keep bursting these bubbles.) More on the latest G.O.P. primary wishcasting below.
But first… a congressional update from Abby Livingston…
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| McCarthy’s Nine Lives & Democrats’ Disdain |
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- The McCarthy “Band-Aid”: The exhausted Capitol Hill political class staggered into Monday after one of the more unhinged weekends in recent memory. Republican sources I spoke with described the House G.O.P. conference as caught in an anxious “wait-and-see” mode, at least until Monday evening’s votes. What’s clear is that Kevin McCarthy is still standing—but for how long?
Of course, Matt Gaetz has promised to torment the speaker in perpetuity with motions-to-vacate threats, but several Hill Republican sources say there’s a limit to the conference’s willingness to tolerate this level of anarchy. It’s possible that Gaetz has just one shot at ousting McCarthy, and there’s a theory circulating that if the speaker can survive the next two weeks, he may emerge from this chaos even more empowered.
Whether McCarthy can continue pulling rabbits out of hats is anyone’s guess—one G.O.P. consultant I spoke with on Monday described McCarthy’s ability to deflect a shutdown over the weekend as “a bandaid… and now we’re gonna start ripping the scabs off.” But in any case, Republicans and Democrats alike are bracing for escalation.
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| The Youngkin Mind Flu |
| Of course donors are salivating over Glenn Youngkin, the 6-foot-6 Harvard MBA and private equity billionaire-turned-Republican governor straight out of central casting circa 2012. But let’s be real: there is no electorate for Youngkin, no actual plan to draft him, and no logical process to do so. |
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| At times in recent months, I’ve felt like Puck’s resident political curmudgeon, crankily swatting down buzzy takes that are just completely detached from reality. The idea that Ron DeSantis is the new John McCain. The notion, peddled by some Republican donors, that Tim Scott is the man to beat Donald Trump. Or the hilarious idea that Joe Biden might dump Kamala Harris from the 2024 ticket to help his re-election chances.
A few of my pals in politics—Tim Miller and Jonathan Martin, I’m looking at you—take special pleasure in watching me get so riled up by bad political journalism, or whatever clickbait passes for journalism these days. Well, fellas, here I go again, because it’s time to put an end to another ridiculous piece of gossip that just won’t go away: The idea that Virginia Gov. Glenn Youngkin will mount a last-minute, white-knight bid for the Republican presidential nomination, sidelining Trump once and for all.
Like the Tim Scott crush over the summer, the Youngkin idea is mostly being peddled by rich country clubbers in the Republican donor set who are worried about the growing inevitability of Trump becoming the G.O.P. nominee next year. After all, this was supposed to be the year they finally reclaimed the Republican Party from the MAGA yokels and rightfully returned it to their golf buddies and stock brokers. Donor hopes were pinned on DeSantis, but his inability to catch fire in the primary has given major donors pause, as my colleagues Teddy Schleifer and Tara Palmeri have reported. Even with other establishment-friendly candidates already in the race and tilling the soil in Iowa—Scott, Nikki Haley, eyebrow influencer Doug Burgum—some Republican brahmins continue to turn their lonely eyes to Richmond. |
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| The ‘Draft Youngkin’ Fantasy |
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| The Youngkin buzz, if you can even call it that, exists only in political circles that are completely removed from the mindshare of the actual Republican electorate. But the attention from donors is easily explained. Youngkin is a 6-foot-6 former college basketball player who got a Harvard MBA before becoming a private equity billionaire as C.E.O. of The Carlyle Group. He entered politics as a novice in 2021 but won the governorship in Virginia with a two-track strategy that sent a thrill up Republican legs. He played to the MAGA base to win the Republican nomination at a modified convention, while never scaring off Virginia’s critical suburbanite voters, many of whom had cast ballots for Biden, on his way to victory that November. His election heralded, at long last, a Republican blueprint for life after Trump.
In Virginia, a swing state in non-presidential elections, his approval rating is good for a conservative Republican, hovering above 50 percent even while pushing a conservative agenda that includes culture war issues like banning critical race theory from schools and rolling back protections for transgender youth. And unlike DeSantis, he actually smiles. A frequent guest on Fox News, he caught the eye of Rupert Murdoch, who has reportedly urged Youngkin to run for president. Like so many ambitious Virginia governors before him—including Bob McDonnell, Mark Warner, and George Allen—Youngkin has welcomed the national attention, doing little to discourage the 2024 talk. It’s a no-brainer. It helps him raise money for his political operation, it gives him stature in Richmond, and it gets him press. Even if he’s actually doing nothing to run.
But the Youngkin hype got new life last week, in the aftermath of the boring and barely audible Republican debate in Simi Valley, California. TV ratings were down and post-debate polls showed no movement in any candidate’s favor. Trump still looked inevitable. Everyone else looked small. A perfect moment, then, for a Washington Post story that arrived after the fact: “Alarmed Republicans are preparing to draft Glenn Youngkin.”
The urgency of that screaming headline—which quickly gained steam on Twitter/X—wasn’t really supported by the meat of the story. Bylined by Robert Costa, who has long had good sources in the G.O.P. money class, the piece explained that donors will be gathering next month at an already-planned fundraising event in Virginia Beach, as part of a final push to help Youngkin and Virginia Republicans in November’s legislative elections. Those elections in the commonwealth are very close, and only a handful of competitive seats will determine whether Youngkin’s team will have full control over the General Assembly.
The Virginia Beach retreat, the Post reported, will “be an opportunity for them to try to push, if not shove, Youngkin into the Republican presidential race.” What this really means, having covered way too many of these donor retreats in the past, is that a few of those “alarmed Republicans” will corner Youngkin in a hallway or have dinner with him, and tell him that he needs to run. Youngkin will grin and entertain them, tell them he’s still thinking about it, ask for more money for November, and leave them hanging.
The problem with all of this is that there is no actual plan by any Republican to “draft Glenn Youngkin”—and no logical process to do so—other than giving some encouragement to Youngkin, and then hastily calling other donors to dish about it.
Whenever you read a story like this, remember: Politics is a hobby for these people. Everyone involved—the reporters, the donors, the politician raising money for his PAC—benefits from the attention. Including one of the rich Republicans quoted in the story, the anti-Trump Hungarian-born billionaire Thomas Peterffy, who promised the Post that “the money would be there” should Youngkin take the presidential plunge.
It was a quote straight out of 2012. The money, Peterffy should be reminded, is not the issue. The issue is Donald Trump. |
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| Maybe I have an edge here as a Richmonder, but it took me about 20 minutes last week to make a quick round of texts and phone calls to the right people who assured me of the obvious reality that Youngkin will not, in fact, be making a run for President of the United States. There are no plans. He will not be drafted. “He’s gotta win the round of 32 before thinking about the final 4,” one of those Republicans told me, pointing out that Youngkin is only 56 years old, and will be able to run for president one day if he wants, when Trump is in a wheelchair and slurping down blended Big Macs through a straw. “He’s a young man not in a hurry. He’s got unbelievable favorability and is racking up wins in a purple state.” Youngkin has been governor of a state for 19 months.
Last week, he spoke to the Economic Club of Washington, D.C. and said his administration, so far, shows the country that “you can bring a conservative philosophy with common sense solutions and make a material difference to the direction for a state,” which sounds like a podium tagline from a Republican Governors Association Meeting from 2010. Still, a local TV reporter after Youngkin’s appearance said his remarks “could be the framework of a national campaign.” Really? Common sense conservative solutions? The truth is that nothing from Youngkin’s career so far demonstrates that he possesses the kind of attentional superpowers and near-suicidal ferocity required to vanquish Trump in a Republican primary. A primary that Trump is currently winning by 40 or so points.
Another person close to Youngkin just told me last week to take a peek at Youngkin’s appearance on Fox News, where he gave a half-assed denial when asked to rule out a presidential bid, saying yeah, he’s focused on the Virginia races. It was an answer in keeping with his other winking 2024 denials, designed to keep his name in the conversation even though we all know he won’t dare challenge Trump. I know reporters are too quick to swallow spin these days. But I’m not being credulous by repeating these denials. I’m being realistic.
How would this presidential enterprise actually work? Say Youngkin sweeps the Virginia races in November. To mount a presidential bid, he’d have to turn around and announce a national campaign in a matter of days. Youngkin’s chief political strategist from 2021, Jeff Roe, is already occupied, running the DeSantis Super PAC Never Back Down. Youngkin’s media agency is also on contract for the DeSantis Super PAC. So, Youngkin would have to hire a small army of fresh staffers who aren’t already on board with another campaign, reserve already-crowded television time in Iowa and New Hampshire, get on the ballot wherever he still can, magically become famous enough so that Republican voters actually know who he is, and then have a message compelling enough to elbow out the other Republicans already running, as well as Trump, who is beloved by Republicans. It would be an extraordinary gamble, unlikely to succeed, that would undermine his power in Richmond and badly damage any future political plans.
Trumpworld has already taken pleasure in going after Youngkin and threatening him against running. Trump senior strategist Chris LaCivita—also a Richmond guy—tweeted the Washington Post story last week along with a photo of a meat grinder. Donald Trump, Jr. also logged on, saying of Youngkin: “Time for another RINO stooge in a vest to represent the billionaire donor class now that they realize that after 5 or 6 ‘reboots’ DeSantis clearly doesn’t have it.”
This kind of shit-talking from MAGA world will probably keep rolling into next summer when the convention approaches. Why? Even after the primaries and caucuses, if Trump is still the likely nominee, I have a hunch that plenty of donors will try to get Youngkin, or someone else, to swoop in at the last minute and make a desperate play for the nomination at the G.O.P. convention in Milwaukee. But of course, convention delegates are, for the most part, fire-breathing grassroots activists who still admire Trump, regardless of his chances against Biden. They aren’t the kind of people who have the Morgan Stanley app downloaded on their iPhones. Those delegates almost certainly won’t be interested in doing the convention-floor bidding of Murdoch or Paul Singer or Harlan Crow. And if a last minute convention fight does unfold, other G.O.P. candidates like DeSantis and Haley will presumably already have delegates they worked long and hard for. Why would they just let Youngkin waltz through the door?
Now, if we do want to stretch the bounds of reality and indulge these hopeful donors about Youngkin, let us first try a thought experiment, one first proffered by veteran Richmond Times-Dispatch columnist Jeff Schapiro, the bow-tied dean of Virginia’s political press corps. Schapiro mused after the first debate in August about how Youngkin might have looked on the debate stage if he were running for president at the time. Schapiro surmised, accurately I think, that Youngkin “would have been another face in the crowd, given his standard-brand views” and that he “would have likely pledged to support Donald Trump as the G.O.P. nominee, even if he’s convicted of federal and state crimes.” Youngkin, despite his height, would suddenly have seemed a few inches smaller.
Now try that same hypothetical again with the second G.O.P. debate in mind. Remember: Youngkin is a fixation for elites, but he is currently a complete stranger to Republican primary voters with about three months until the Iowa caucuses. Imagine Youngkin on that debate stage at the Reagan Library last week. Beyond his height, which would help him rise above Vivek Ramaswamy’s haircut, how would have stood out against that group? How, specifically, would he have shoved DeSantis and Haley and Chris Christie aside, making a new and urgent case that he, at this late stage in the race, would suddenly be a better option than the rest of the seven or eight candidates already running? What culture war sermon, if any, would the vest-wearing Youngkin have delivered with more passion and conviction than Trump?
Be honest: It’s impossible to think of any scenario in which all of a sudden we’re strolling into October with a transformed race on our hands, with DeSantis and Haley and Vivek all abandoning their self-interest and rolling out the red carpet for Youngkin because a few rich guys with reporters on speed dial want them to. Let’s move on. |
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| FOUR STORIES WE’RE TALKING ABOUT |
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