"The Myth of Voter Suppression" by Fred Lucas

Like everything else in contemporary America, the subject of elections has divided along red and blue lines. By significantly changing rules on ballots, how they’re collected, how they’re secured, how voting does or doesn’t require a photo ID, and similar areas, the divide opens between conservatives concerned about election fraud and progressives cry “voter suppression.”  

Fred Lucas, manager of the Investigative Reporting Project at The Daily Signal (a conservative news outlet), took a close look at what evidence there is for both voter fraud and voter suppression. In The Myth of Voter Suppression: The Left’s Assault on Clean Elections, he makes a convincing case that voter suppression is indeed a myth, while election fraud has a long and dishonorable history in American elections.

 

The two sides of election concern have a long and interwoven history, Lucas says. Voter suppression, in fact, was almost standard operating procedure in Southern states during the Reconstruction and Jim Crow periods – and it was a procedure perfected by state Democratic parties to keep as few Black Americans from voting as possible. And it played a significant role in how the Democratic Party kept a hammerlock on cities like New York and the Southern states in the 19^th and 20^th centuries. (I can personally testify to that control; I grew up in Louisiana, where for decades your only political choices were Democrats.)

 

Fred Lucas

Lucas looks at electoral reforms, undertaken by almost half of the states, to see if any of them have discouraged voting. They haven’t. The reforms include cleaning the voting rolls of dead people and people who’ve left the state (something the Michigan secretary of state recently fought to keep from happening, for some unknown reason). He discusses the business of vote trafficking (in a capitalist society, everything gets capitalized). And he also considers how race is used in the arguments over election reform.

 

He examines the various bills introduced and occasionally passed by one house of the current Congress that would essentially federalize control of elections (Lucas sees that as a dangerous mistake). And he presents an in-depth study of all of the various groups behind the claims of “voter suppression” and who’s funding them – including some of the biggest charitable foundations in America.

 

Lucas is also the author of Tainted by Suspicion: The Secret Deals and Electoral Chaos of Disputed Elections, The Right Frequency: The Story of the Talk Radio Giants Who Shook Up the Political and Media Establishment, Abuse of Power: Inside the Three-Year Campaign to Impeach Donald Trump, and other works. An award-winning journalist and veteran White House correspondent, he’s written and reported for Fox News, Newsweek, National Review, History Magazine Quarterly, The Washington Examiner, Newsmax, The Blaze, Townhall, The Federalist, The National Interest, The American Spectator, The American Conservative, and other news outlets. He received a B.A. degree from Western Kentucky University and an M.S. degree from the Columbia Graduate School of Journalism in New York City. He lives in Virginia. 

 

The Myth of Voter Suppression is both a timely and vital book. Well-research and well-documented, it tells a story of great concern and great peril for the future of American elections. 

 

Related: 

 

Tainted by Suspicion by Fred Lucas.

The Politics of Despair, the Despair of Politics

I grew up in Louisiana, spending the first 21 years of my life in what likely was the most politically corrupt state in the union. Deception in politics and elections was an art form.

In the fall of 1971, the television room of my fraternity would be packed on Sundays at 9 a.m. (Sundays at 9 a.m. – after Saturday night football parties!) to watch a half-hour political program by one of the candidates for governor. The man’s name was Puggy Moity (pronounced mo-TEE), running in a crowded Democratic primary. At that time, the Democratic primary was where you had to vote if you wanted to vote.

Puggy Moity

Moity, with his thick southwestern Louisiana Cajun accent, would make the most outrageous statements about the other candidates. Some of the statements out-and-out lies. Others were partially true. A few might have been wholly true. The problem – and the fun – was guessing which were which, and what would this crazy guy come up with next. But deception was the name of the game.

Two decades later, in 1992, I became involved in a congressional race in Missouri. I didn’t have an official position or set of duties; I was the guy whom the candidate’s wife would call to ask if a course of action seemed wise, especially the course of actions being advocated by the intelligent and experienced political advisors from Washington, D.C. The fact she was asking spoke volumes. The campaign manager hated me, which paled in comparison to how the consultants felt.

The candidate was up against a one-term incumbent who had likely been elected in a fluke win. The incumbent was known as something of a pit bull, and not above “going negative,” especially if something sounded like it might work (truth and accuracy were not considerations). My candidate’s consultants wanted to reply in kind. But that’s not who the candidate was. He wanted to win, yes, but he was also a decent human being. His wife essentially had me play the role of hair shirt. I rewrote TV and radio ads. I helped derail negative strategy. I rewrote speeches. Yes, the campaign manager and the consultants hated me.

The 1992 election outcome

The election happened in the context of the first Clinton election, a Republican political scandal in Missouri, and a general rout nationally for Republicans. My candidate was a Republican. He won decisively. No other Republican won a significant office in Missouri that year.

Another two decades have passed. It’s a different world than 1971 and 1992. What I find most different is the intensity of the anger people, including myself, seem to have. The day after the Iowa caucuses, my wife asked me who I would be supporting. I surprised her and myself with the anger I expressed.

I know where my anger comes from. I see deceit on the Democratic side, and I see deceit on the Republican side. One candidate’s strategy seems to be brazen out the serious legal issues that are mounting - blame everyone, or anyone except the one truly responsible. Another candidate is full of jingoistic bombast. Still others try to appeal directly to evangelical Christians. Sixteen years ago, I listened to that appeal from George W. Bush and his chief advisor Karl Rove, and I believed it. I don’t make that mistake any more.

Photograph by Alex Grichenko via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.

Last week, Alan Noble of Oklahoma Baptist University posted an article on the Christianity Today blog: “To Hope All Things About the American Voter.” Elections in the United States seem to have become all about winning, that the ends justify the means, even if it means you have to engage in deception. Noble was asking the question – should Christians embrace this or try to rise above it? Should we tolerate a system that tries to deceive voters or model and be something better than that?

The Ted Cruz campaign apparently engaged in some deception in Iowa, utilizing a tactic first developed by MoveOn for President Obama’s reelection campaign in 2012 – essentially trying to embarrass voters and implying they had been graded.

Noble is right. We need to rise above the deception. We need to be thoughtful and prayerful. I think we should stop participating in political polls. And no candidate should take Christians for granted. Politicians need to be taught that our allegiance is not Republican or Democratic of Socialist or Libertarian. Our allegiance is not of this world. We don’t opt out of the system, but we do know where our priority – our first love – is.

Top photograph by Kai Stachowiak via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.

How I Will Vote

I do not watch political ads on television. I have seen them before, and I was afflicted by them while trying to watch special coverage of Hurricane Sandy last week. I am not swayed by negative ads. I am appalled by them. All of them.

Data point for voting: A candidate is only as honorable as his or her worst political attack ad, no matter who funds it.

I have caller ID. I don’t answer the phone during political season. My voting intentions are my business. I don’t respond to polling surveys.

I do not respond to the barrage of political letters and solicitations that bury my mailbox. I mourn the loss of the trees that had to be slaughtered. I do recycle without reading.

Data point for voting: I consider an incumbent’s entire voting record. I am not impressed if an incumbent’s voting pattern changes to accommodate the coming election.

I do not make decisions on referendums, initiatives and propositions without understanding the motives and identities of the sponsors.

Data point for voting: Newspaper editorial writers are no better informed on candidates and issues than the rest of us. I do not make voting decisions based on newspaper endorsements.

Notice to political profilers: Just because I subscribe to a particular magazine doesn’t mean mailings from a particular political party or candidate will appeal to me. My subscription to Poetry Magazine does not mean I am a Democrat.

I do read, and I read across the political spectrum. I value a well-reasoned, well-supported argument. I have spent my entire career in public relations, so I know what is positioning, what is spin, and what is staging. I know when I’m being messaged. I know when I’m hearing talking points. I know when legitimate questions are ignored. All of that tells me a lot about political handlers, but it also tells me about candidates. And none of that is good.

I am not a Republican.

I am not a Democrat.

I am not an independent.

I am not a conservative.

I am not a liberal.

I am not a moderate.

I am not a Boomer, Gen-X, millennial or any other nice demographic category. And I don’t like being labeled.

You might think I’m generally conservative until the discussion turns to the death penalty and gun control.

But I do vote. And you can’t take my vote for granted.

There is one thing you need to know about me, and it is the most important thing.

I am a child of God.

Photograph by Petr Kratochvil via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.

The Poetry of Voting

Today I have a post over at TweetSpeak Poetry. When I went to vote last week, I took with me a book of poetry – Contingency Plans by David Wheeler (which I reviewed here yesterday). No one was expecting long lines, and there weren’t at the place I voted – but there was a little wait, which I used for reading. To see what I learned, take a look over at TSP.