Flynn is the president of Common Cause, one of the nation's oldest democracy reform advocacy organizations.
President Biden speaks frequently about democracy. He mentioned it 11 times in his inaugural address. But words must be matched with collective leadership. As he said in that speech, “we will lead not merely by the example of our power but by the power of our example.”
The United States will put this to the test when the Biden administration convenes a Summit for Democracy this week with representatives from more than 100 nations. The summit will “set an affirmative agenda for democratic renewal around the world,” according to the president. It will launch a “year of action” to “make democracies more responsive and resilient.”
It comes at a precarious time for U.S. democracy. After voters showed up in record numbers in 2020, state legislatures in 19 states passed 33 laws to make it harder to vote. Many of these laws disproportionately affect voters of color, young voters and others whose voices are silenced.
The assault on free and fair elections extends beyond bad laws. Disciples of the former president’s Big Lie have focused efforts on installing loyalists to local election boards. One in three election officials feel unsafe at work and face a barrage of violent threats for doing their job. Partisan legislators are gerrymandering districts to silence voters and subvert the bedrock principle of “one person one vote.”
The summit could be a hopeful end to a year that began with a racist mob of insurrectionists storming Congress to attack the peaceful transfer of power. The events of Jan. 6 interrupted two centuries of this practice in a democracy that survived the Civil War, two world wars, the Depression and many other hardships.
The specter of election sabotage is dangerous. The world took notice. Last month, an international think tank placed the United States on its list of “ backsliding democracies ” for the first time.
Earlier this year, Biden said that “we are in the midst of a fundamental debate about the future and direction of our world, between those who argue that ... autocracy is the best way forward and those who understand that democracy is essential to meeting these challenges.” Hence the announcement of the summit as a way to “demonstrate that democracies can deliver by improving the lives of their own people.”
Democracies must be responsive to the people, who hold the ultimate power. But the undue influence of money in politics, structural racism, corruption and voter suppression can poison the well.
Congress has the power to strengthen our democracy with legislation. The House of Representatives — the chamber closest to the People — did its part on at least three occasions this year. It passed the For the People Act to protect and expand the freedom to vote with fair national standards, break the grip of big money in politics, end gerrymandering, and bolster ethical standards in government. It passed the John Lewis Voting Rights Advancement Act to repair and strengthen the Voting Rights Act and protect against racial discrimination in voting. And it passed the Washington, D.C. Admission Act to grant statehood to the people of our nation’s capital.
These bills (with the Freedom to Vote Act, a compromise version of the For the People Act) await Senate passage. Fifty Senators have voted four times to begin debate on some of them, but all Senate Republicans (with one exception) voted to block them.
No Senate loophole should stand in the way. The filibuster, as abused in today’s Senate, gives a minority of 41 out of 100 senators veto power over legislation being debated, unless it is subject to a filibuster exception. Those 41 senators can represent just 24 percent of the population.
Biden himself has expressed interest in solving this problem. He has spoken forcefully about voting rights. He has signed executive orders, installed voting rights advocates in the Department of Justice and nominated them to the federal bench, and tasked the vice president with leading this work.
But there is no substitute for legislation, and the time to act is now. Recently, more than 150 democracy scholars wrote that “defenders of democracy in America still have a slim window of opportunity to act. But time is ticking away, and midnight is approaching.”
If we are to lead by the “power of our example,” President Biden and senators must step up and do what it takes to pass these bills as quickly as possible. When our leaders embark on the year of action at the summit, this must be a top priority. Democracy is resilient, and they have the power to act. We cannot afford to wait.
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.