Democrats have, as promised, taken their courthouse crusade for easier mail-in voting into bellwether Iowa — alleging a new state law makes it unfairly complicated to vote absentee.
Among those filing the state court lawsuit in Iowa City on Tuesday was Marc Elias, the attorney who has now filed three dozen cases on behalf of the party's campaign committees challenging a variety of election laws.
Their effort, which Republicans are fighting vigorously, aims to get courts to make voting easier this fall as a way to promote turnout during the coronavirus pandemic, which they're confident will benefit Democratic candidates. Iowa saw record turnout for its June primaries, with almost 80 percent of votes cast by mail — triple the usual share in the state.
Democrats worry that number will shrink because of a provision in a law approved by the General Assembly and signed by Gov. Kim Reynolds last month. Elias had vowed then to sue to stop the measure from taking effect, and that is what he did Tuesday.
No excuse is required to get an absentee ballot in Iowa and 28 other states. Under the provision, however, if a voter provides incomplete or incorrect information when requesting a mail ballot, the county auditor's office is required to contact the voter first by telephone and email, then reach out with a letter in the mail. Until now, local officials have been permitted to use their voter registration database to fill in the blanks themselves.
The lawsuit claims that the change makes voting in Iowa "more complicated, cumbersome, confusing, expensive and time consuming" and is unconstitutional.
Republicans, who control the state capital and governor's mansion, said the change was needed to make sure everyone who requests an absentee ballot is an eligible voter.
Many but hardly all Republicans who administer elections in states and counties have joined President Trump in opposing an expansion of mail-in voting during the pandemic, arguing that it will increase the opportunities for widespread voter fraud. Democrats note there is no credible evidence to back this claim.
The plaintiffs in this case are the League of United Latin American Citizens of Iowa, a Latino civil rights organization, and Majority Forward, a Democratic-aligned nonprofit that promotes voter registration and turnout. The defendant is Paul Pate, the Republican secretary of state.
Turnout could prove crucial in several Iowa races in November. The state has been carried by the presidential winner in 14 of the 18 elections since World War II, including Trump last time, but polling suggests former Vice President Joe Biden has made the fight for its six electoral votes a tossup. So is the Senate race, featuring Democratic former real estate executive Theresa Greenfield and the incumbent Republican, Joni Ernest. And races for three of the state's four House seats are also highly competitive.
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.