opinion | Liz Cheney and Lisa Murkowski confront their voters

When elected leaders take sides, Americans shrink as a society: we become cynical, we believe less, we vote less. Every now and then, however, we witness a leader who takes a principled stance, contrary to the party leaders or supporters (or both) and ultimately against his or her own interest. In our era of partisan wars, these acts of principle amount to political courage, and they are essential to democracy – helping to strengthen our belief in leadership and, in some cases, our confidence in the rule of law.

These acts of political courage are also a powerful reminder that the structural flaws in our political system diminish the incentive to be brave. Leaders who follow their principles risk alienating donors, party bosses and voters who may be screaming betrayal rather than seeking a measure of understanding. When Senator Mitt Romney cast the sole Republican vote to convict President Donald Trump for abuse of power in his first impeachment trial, Republicans nationwide and in Utah criticized the senator; his own niece, Ronna McDaniel, the chairman of the Republican National Committee, defended Mr Trump and rebuked “Mitt.” When Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey refused to relieve police amid a crowd of protesters after George Floyd’s murder, he was booedleft to ridicule of “Shame! Shame!”

These examples of leadership – whether you agree with those views or not – are important moments in a country’s political life. It is worth taking note of them, at a time when they are under particularly fierce attack. It’s also worth noting that the current moment’s commitment will only require more such acts, especially among Republicans.

On Tuesday, two Republicans, Representative Liz Cheney from Wyoming and Senator Lisa Murkowski of Alaska, will face primary challenges as they each seek a different term in Congress. They both run into opponents sent by Mr. Trump are supported; indeed, their political fate is in question only because they stood up to Mr. Trump when it would have been much safer and politically expedient not to.

They are no different from those Republicans who faced primary challenges and, in some cases, were defeated in 1974 after supporting articles of impeachment against President Richard M. Nixon. And while the circumstances differ, they are also reminiscent of those democrats who voted for the Affordable Care Act in 2010 and lost reelection that fall, or Michigan Governor Gretchen Whitmer, whose efforts to fight the Covid-19 pandemic made her a divisive. She too did not follow the safe and politically appropriate course; she was targeted by a alleged kidnapping plot in 2020 and becomes challenged up for reelection this fall by a Trump-backed Republican.

In fact, Ms. Cheney and Ms. Murkowski offer two models of political courage at a time when direct party support is increasingly common.

Ms Cheney’s model is that of a consistent conservative who, on a critical issue that has become a litmus test in the party, took the right stance: calling out Mr Trump’s electoral lies and holding him accountable for undermining American democracy and fueling the January 6 attack. First she lost her leadership in the House; now, as one of only two House Republicans to sit on the Jan. 6 committee, she will likely lose on Tuesday to a Wyoming Republican defended by Mr. Trump. The former president is deep into the revenge business these days; she has a different purpose.

While Ms. Cheney voted in line with Mr. Trump almost 93 percent of that time is her commitment to the rule of law, and her determination to put the country above the party is clearly more important to her than blind loyalty. Whatever happens on Tuesday, history will remember Ms. Cheney for her principles, as well as Mr. Trump for his lack of them.

Ms. Murkowski’s model is that of a more moderate pragmatist with a history of traversing some crucial legislation and voting, against the drift of many Alaskan Republicans. Ms Murkowski disagreed with the party’s attempts to overturn the Affordable Care Act, and she opposite the confirmation of Judge Brett Kavanaugh and supported the confirmation of Judge Ketanji Brown Jackson. She also helped broker the $1 trillion bipartisan infrastructure bill last year.

But it was her vote to convict Mr Trump in his second impeachment trial, leading him to now seek political retaliation. She was one of seven GOP senators found guilty at the time; she is the first to be re-elected. Her outlook is better than Mrs. Cheney’s: She will fight in an open primary on Tuesday, with the top four finishers advancing to a November election that will use a ranked electoral system. Ms. Murkowski is still one of the most vulnerable Republicans in the Senate in this year’s election, but Alaska’s system gives her a chance to be judged by all voters there, rather than just registered Republicans.

Both models of political courage are reminiscent of another Republican, Senator John McCain, with his thumbs-down vote in 2017 who helped maintain the Affordable Care Act, and his two-pronged efforts on a number of policy issues, such as immigration reform. And on the face of it, Ms. Murkowski’s affinity for two-party coalitions — which annoys some on the right — is shared by two Democratic Senators, Joe Manchin and Christmas cinema, which annoys some on the left. The duo are better known for thwarting Democratic legislation than for crossing the aisle to pass legislation, but many moderate Democrats and independents see them as taking a stance in defense of consensus and compromise (neither of which is political today). be fashionable).

The views of Ms. Cheney and Ms. Murkowski are a great relief to so many of this season’s Republican candidates, who are launching scorched earth attacks on Democrats as “liars” even as they continue to promote Trump’s big lie.

Some MAGA Republicans like to pretend to be brave with shows of clapping, profanity and machismo, and complaints of persecution from social media and the news media. But so much of this is political theater aimed at whipping up the Trump base, none of which requires moral courage.

Violence, such as the violence unleashed during the January 6 attack, is an ever-present and growing response political courage in our democracy. It was there that day in the Capitol; it was there in the hatred of John Lewis and his fellow protesters in Selma; it was present in the alleged kidnapping plot targeting Mrs Whitmer; and it is present in the flood of death threats that politicians of both parties face when they cross a border.

Today there are few incentives for politicians to show courage. In a recent Times Opinion focus group examining examples of courage and courage in politics, six of the 10 participants — including four independents and one who leans Republican — said they found President Biden’s decision to withdraw troops from Afghanistan politically courageous. “There are some of us here old enough to remember the troop withdrawal from Vietnam and the similar way it played out in Afghanistan,” said one of the independents. “But it was something that had to be done. It wasn’t popular, but it was very brave.”

Yet the chaos and bloodshed of the withdrawal are the first things many Americans remember about it; future generations may remember Mr Biden’s determination to stand firm in his resolve, but in the immediate aftermath of the withdrawal, he faced fierce public criticism and a sharp decline in his popularity.

Barbara Lee, the veteran Democratic congresswoman from California, is familiar with this lack of incentives. In the days following the September 11 terrorist attacks, she emerged as the only voice in Congress to… oppose the authorization requested by the Bush administration for military force in response to the catastrophic events of that month. Ms. Lee recently recalled her Democratic colleagues at the time warning her that in times of crisis the party could not make military power a partisan issue. “I said we can’t do this, it’s too broad and sets the stage for ‘forever war’.” And after saying no in what would be a 420-to-1 vote, Ms. Lee recalled that her friends the House “thought I was making a mistake by saying, ‘You’re doing all this good work on HIV and AIDS and Foreign Affairs; we don’t want to lose you.’”

Some colleagues feared for her safety, others for her re-election, she said. “I got death threats – gunshots from people in my voicemail,” Ms. Lee said. “The threats lasted a long time. They don’t come very often, but I still get threats today.”

Ms. Lee faced a primary challenger the following year, but was re-elected. She sees a parallel between her experience and Mrs. Cheney’s. “In a strong democracy there is the right to disagree,” Ms Lee said. “She doesn’t agree, as I chose.”

Courage alone is not enough to heal the partisan divisions of the nation. Timothy Naftali, a Nixon-era historian, said he fears the country is much more divided now than it was then. “We did not reach a consensus on Trump after January 6, as many Americans did in the” summer of 1974 on Nixon’s abuse of power,” he said.

And even the most courageous, principled stances may not make the seasoned partisans change their mind, Naftali noted. Even after the months of work by Mrs. Cheney and so many others on the Jan. 6 committee, some recent polls show that it hasn’t really changed public opinion about the former president.

While it looks like Ms. Cheney will lose her primary on Tuesday, she has no regrets. “If the Cost of Standing Up for the Constitution Loses the Seat of the House,” she recently told The Times, “then that’s a price I’m willing to pay.” Democracy needs more profiles in such courage.