Goldstone is a writer whose most recent book is "On Account of Race: The Supreme Court, White Supremacy, and the Ravaging of African American Voting Rights."
This is the last in a three-part series on election integrity. The first part examined the election of 1876 and the second looked ahead to the 2024 election.
There is an old quip that defines the word "chutzpah" (which in Yiddish means "nerve" or "gall"): "A man who murders his parents and then throws himself on the mercy of the court on the grounds that he's an orphan." Although it is uncertain how many red state Republicans are familiar with the joke, they have emulated it by first proclaiming outrage at non-existent election fraud and then passing draconian laws to protect American citizens from the made-up threat.
According to the Brennan Center for Justice, at least 19 states, virtually all with legislatures under Republican control, have enacted legislation to make voting more difficult. Most of the new rules are designed to make casting a ballot sufficiently time consuming and inconvenient that voters, especially in heavily Democratic, densely populated urban areas, will choose to stay home. These include limitations on absentee or mail-in voting, restrictions on voting hours and early voting, closing polling stations, prohibiting drop box voting, and ramped-up identification requirements. Some states have even forbidden providing water or other refreshment to those waiting on what promises to be long lines moving at glacial speed.
Although these rules may indeed discourage some, it is nearly impossible to prevent committed, determined voters from eventually casting ballots — as African American voters demonstrated in Georgia in 2020. The voters who turned Georgia blue were willing to endure four- and five-hour wait times, bad weather and strictly-by-the-book poll workers. As a result, for many on the right, legislation that leaves voter commitment to chance was insufficient. More insidious were laws passed in some states that threaten to take the tabulation of voting results away from independent election officials and assign it to partisan political operatives.
Texas is a case in point. As with abortion, Lone Star Republicans are at the forefront of testing constitutional guarantees of voting rights. The state's new election security legislation, in addition to banning 24-hour voting, severely limiting voting by mail, and tightening identification requirements, empowers partisan "poll watchers" and "election judges" — who may legally be armed — to have almost free run of polling places, both while ballots are being cast and when they are counted. They are also empowered to inject themselves into the process and potentially disallow legitimately cast ballots on spurious grounds.
Gov. Greg Abbott defended his state's new law. "Voter fraud is real and Texas will prosecute it whenever and wherever it happens. We will continue to make it easy to vote but hard to cheat." There is little in this statement that is true. Voter fraud, beyond isolated cases, is not real and the law makes it harder to vote and easier to cheat.
Georgia's new security measures are equally restrictive. In addition to adopting virtually all the provisions that will discourage voting, Georgia transferred authority for determining whether or not an election was fair to a state board headed by a political appointee, rather than the secretary of state, who had previously held that post. This, of course, was the direct result of Brad Raffensperger, Georgia's secretary of state in 2020, refusing to bend to Donald Trump's will and void Joe Biden's victory. Georgia's General Assembly is now also empowered to suspend county election officials and replace them with political appointees.
Texas and Georgia are only two of the states that are attempting to tilt the scales in Republicans' favor. Similar efforts are underway across the nation. Republican leaders in those states are counting on a supportive, filibuster-happy Senate to prevent national voting rights legislation and a rubber stamp by an acquiescent Supreme Court whose conservative majority has shown scant inclination to recognize that equal protection of the laws is a hollow promise when some citizens are denied equal access to the ballot box.
While the need for Democrats and liberals to fight these laws with all the ferocity they can muster is obvious, less apparent is why conservatives should oppose them as well. For them, these laws are victories, at least in the short term.
But history is replete with tales of short-term victories that spawned longer-term disasters. Democrats were convinced that Americans had embraced a new era of liberalism in 2008, when Barack Obama, an African American with the middle name of Hussein, was elected president. Two years later, in 2010, they faced the carnage of a midterm election that cost them not only national offices but a landslide of state and local offices as well. Although they took back the House and Joe Biden was elected, Democrats have never recovered from that debacle.
Politics to a significant degree is the cultivation and wielding of power. So it takes a good deal of self-discipline, to say nothing of courage, to give up short-term gains, especially when there is no guarantee of longer-term advantage. This is the choice that mainstream Republicans face.
Allowing political operatives to set aside election results violates the most fundamental precept of American democracy. What conservatives need to ask themselves, be they in government or not, is whether they are willing to risk the survival of a political system they purport to love in order to retain power.




















A golden tray sits on the Resolute Desk as President Donald Trump speaks during an announcement on American nuclear innovation in the Oval Office at the White House on July 24, 2026, in Washington, D.C. Trump is signing multiple executive orders targeting the nuclear energy sector and easing rules for new reactors and nuclear fuel supply chains.
Trump’s hubris rivals the fallen heroes of ancient Greek mythology
In January, the New York Times asked President Donald Trump if there were any limits on his global powers.
“Yeah,” the president responded, “there is one thing. My own morality. My own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me.”
That was eight months ago, but fortunately Christopher Nolan’s blockbuster adaptation of “The Odyssey” has made ancient Greek literature newly relevant. Before that window closes, I’d like to talk about hubris.
Today, the term mostly means excessive pride or arrogance. That’s part of what the Greeks meant by it too, but the meaning was a bit richer and more specific. Hubris was an insolent or outrageous act that offended the gods, often because the transgressor was claiming abilities or authorities that solely belonged to supreme beings.
Nolan renamed and slightly modified the concept of xenia for the film, calling it “Zeus’ law.” In the director’s telling, mortals should follow the rules laid out by the gods, specifically the requirement to treat strangers with respect lest they be gods in disguise.
In a sense, hubris is the opposite, or at least the rejection, of xenia. The hubris of the suitors, and at times Odysseus himself, invites punishment by the gods and their mortal instruments.
Which brings me back to Donald Trump. His claim that there are no constraints on his personal power to dictate events on the global stage was one of the greatest expressions of hubris ever uttered by a political leader.
Trump’s claim was obviously false when he made it.
He vowed that he could end the Russia-Ukraine war in 24 hours. He’s proved powerless to make that happen. If he had divine powers to work his will, why would he have balked at implementing his tariffs so often that Wall Street adopted the “TACO trade” term for his deals? “TACO” stands for “Trump always chickens out.”
And why would Trump have made so many embarrassing concessions to China — from rescinding tariffs on Chinese goods to allowing them to buy crucial and incredibly valuable computer chips?
But Trump saw his success at capturing Venezuelan strongman Nicolas Maduro as proof of his ability to launch missiles to the same effect as Zeus’ lightning bolts. Trump believed he was the most powerful man who ever lived.
This is no exaggeration. In March, when the Iran invasion seemed successful, Trump gave a document penned by“Presidential Historian David King” to New York Times reporters Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan purporting to prove that Trump was “the most powerful person to have EVER walked this planet.” King was, in fact, a businessman and occasional caddy for legendary golfer Gary Player.
King compared Trump favorably to many of history’s most powerful, and often heinous, figures: Alexander the Great, Attila the Hun, William the Conqueror, Napoleon Bonaparte, Joseph Stalin, Genghis Khan, Mao Tse Tung, Adolf Hitler and Vladimir Lenin. Many of these men thought they were the most powerful person in the world, too. And many were defeated precisely because they believed it.
At least Napoleon and Hitler had a string of truly impressive victories before they learned the folly of hubris. The limits on Trump’s power have been exposed by far less august forces than the combined might of the allies in World War II or the fearsome Russian winter.
Iran is a comparatively middling power. But the regime’s ability to absorb punishment while imposing its will on the Strait of Hormuz has proved to be a greater constraint on Trump’s power than his morality or mind. We should note that, at least rhetorically, his morality has not proved much of a constraint. He has repeatedly promised to destroy Iranian “civilization” if the regime refuses to capitulate.
But they haven’t — and won’t anytime soon — because the regime’s tolerance for pain far outstrips Trump’s. The combined fear of skyrocketing oil prices, outrage of Gulf state potentates, diminishing weapon supplies and domestic unpopularity is doing the work that international law, congressional oversight and the collective opinion of foreign policy experts can’t or won’t do.
If I considered Trump more heroic than reason and facts could allow, I would say his Sisyphean predicament has the whiff of Greek tragedy to it. Trump is vexed by the fact that the Iranians won’t honor deals or ratify his countless premature claims of victory — giving new meaning to his vow that his presidency would make people tired of winning. It’s almost like they’re out-Trumping Trump.
Things might have gone better if he’d heeded that great Greek tragedian Sophocles: “For Zeus utterly abhors the boasts of a proud tongue.”
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Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.