There’s little evidence that GOP elected officials will ever accept that former President Donald Trump is in the wrong. When he visited Congress on Thursday, he was feted like a returning hero just a few years after having encouraged a mob to run rampant against many of those present. His criminal conviction has likewise prompted no bouts of introspection or calls for Trump to drop out; instead, Republicans have dug in their heels and bashed the justice system.
A few hours before his Thursday visit to Capitol Hill, a little over half of the Senate GOP sent a letter to Attorney General Merrick Garland to complain yet again about that conviction. Spearheaded by Sen. Rand Paul, R-Ky., the one-page letter is filled with Republican talking points without a shred of real evidence. But it was the final line of the letter that stands out: “We condemn this show trial,” the senators wrote, “not just because it marks the attempt to imprison a leader of the loyal opposition, but because it threatens the existence of due process of law, without which a constitutional republic dedicated to individual liberty is not possible.”
What I take issue with is the idea that Trump leads a “loyal opposition.”
Leave aside for a moment that Trump absolutely received due process in this case: He had ample opportunity to defend himself and was convicted by a jury of his peers, and neither Garland nor President Joe Biden had anything to do with the case. What I take issue with is the idea that Trump leads a “loyal opposition.” Under no definition of the term could that be considered true, not when he and the MAGA movement are so overtly dedicated to undermining American democracy.
At its root, democracy requires everyone involved to be invested in its outcomes. All parties who take part in an election must be willing to accept the results of an election if the system is to work at all. Within that structure, there must likewise be an ability for the minority to criticize the majority’s plans and policies without fear of retribution. In doing so, the minority hopes to win over enough support that the government changes hands peacefully in the next election.
In this way, democracy differs sharply from other forms of governance where any opposition to the ruling order could be deemed treasonous. After all, if the only way to remove a government is through revolt, its leaders will work hard to ensure that theirs are the only ideas that can circulate. We see this in tyrannies stretching back into antiquity and in modern totalitarian states where dissent is stifled through whatever means possible.
The representative democratic models that developed in the late 18th and early 19th centuries offered an alternative to autocracy that provided a much less violent method of shifting a country’s direction. In the United Kingdom, the House of Commons became the primary administrator of authority, supplanting the direct rule of the crown. But still, on paper at least, Parliament to this day derives its authority from King Charles III, in essence governing on his behalf in roles that have been granted through the British people via elections.
It was in the U.K. that the term the “loyal opposition” was first used, born out of the rise of formal political parties (the Conservatives and the Whigs) that could trade control of the government based on the will of the voters. The word “loyal” reflected the assumption that no matter how much the parties disagreed, they were still loyal to king and country — vastly reducing the risk of beheadings when administrations turned over.
Meanwhile, in the U.S., the idea of loyalty to the monarchy was supplanted by an adherence to the Constitution and the democratic processes it outlined. Even as polarization increased the ideological gap between the two main parties, the bedrock principle remained that elections’ results must be respected and if a party loses an election, it will yield power, confident in its ability to try again next time.








