The Women of Maine vs. Susan Collins

Susan Collins has deserved to be defeated for years as she has claimed to be a moderate Republican but then vote for some of the most reactionary GOP agenda items.  During the Trump occupancy of the White House her double speak has been even more egregious and if current polls are accurate, she may be sent into, in my view, a much needed forced retirement.  In some ways Collins is like moderate Republicans I knew 25 years ago who were at the time indeed moderates who eschewed the most insane elements of the GOP agenda typically linked to Christofascists or extreme anti-tax fanatics.  But over time, despite their protestations to the contrary, they have drunk deeply of the GOP Kool-Aid, including embracing the racism espoused by Donald Trump and the white supremacists that are a key element of Trump's base (I don't reference evangelicals separately because they are increasingly one and the same with the white supremacists).  Now, Collins is facing a backlash from Maine voters who are tired of her self prostitution to Trump and Mitch McConnell and the ugliest elements of today's GOP.  A lengthy piece in Politico Magazine looks at Collins' self-inflicted political difficulties.  The reality is that there are no longer any "moderate Republicans" - they all put party ahead of their constituents, especially average Americans.   Here are article excerpts:

For most of her nearly 24-year Senate career, Collins has been a quiet, head-down, never-miss-a-vote lawmaker known for an unwavering moderate approach that balances ardent fiscal conservatism with a liberal-pleasing reputation for supporting women’s reproductive rights. Then came the polarizing Trump presidency, and suddenly Collins found herself at the consequential center of bitter political battles—on issues ranging from the proposed repeal of Obamacare, which she resisted, to tax cuts and the Supreme Court nomination of Brett Kavanaugh, which she supported. She is far from the only lawmaker to have cast deciding votes; however, Collins’ reputation has taken a conspicuously harsh hit. In 2015, after winning reelection with about 70 percent of the vote, she was considered one of America’s most beloved senators. Today, she is the most reviled, derided for her increasingly lockstep party-line votes and for the often belabored manner in which she has justified herself. She’s been lampooned by "Saturday Night Live"; The New Yorker recently satirized her for taking hours of deep reflection before deciding to order whatever Mitch McConnell is having for lunch.

But it is in Maine, where “Bye-Bye Susan” bumper stickers have become common, that the opposition represents an existential threat as she pursues a fifth term. Last year, during the presidential impeachment process, Collins’ refusal to attend several town hall forums begat another bumper sticker asking: “Where’s Susan?” Prior to the state’s shelter-in-place order, protesters gathered almost weekly outside her six state offices, taking issue with everything from her decision to side with President Donald Trump on family separation to her embrace of corporate tax cuts. Residents have made a pastime out of sharing videos of gotcha-conversations with Collins at fundraisers and in airports. In February, Colby College issued a poll showing Collins with a 42 percent approval rating in the state. Among women under the age of 50, her approval is only 25 percent. Her Democratic challenger, Maine House Speaker Sara Gideon, has a slight edge in recent polls, and the Cook Political Report now lists the race as a toss-up.

[I]n a state with the nation’s highest percentage of both female registered voters and women who turn out to vote (about 77 percent and 65 percent, respectively, according to the Center for American Women and Politics), Collins’ plummeting support among women represents an especially dire threat to her reelection prospects. The Kavanaugh vote has energized outside groups such as the Planned Parenthood Action Fund, which recently rolled out a six-figure ad campaign denouncing Collins for turning her back on Mainers. But many women voters I spoke to in towns around the state say that while the Kavanaugh vote angered them, they perceive a larger trend—that Collins has abandoned her native Maine in favor of standing with her GOP peers and funding from corporate donors. Understanding the roots of Collins free fall is key to understanding not only her predicament but the mood of the electorate—in Maine and the nation as a whole—heading into November. It’s a simple question with complex answers: Is it Collins who has changed or is it the voters? For years, Maine was the crown of Yankee Republicanism. The state produced socially progressive, pragmatic, secular moderates like Senators Margaret Chase Smith and William Cohen, who also served as secretary of Defense under Democrat Bill Clinton. Collins began her career as a Cohen staffer. When she first ran for office in 1996, she carried that mantle. She was elected on a platform that included strong opposition to the death penalty, and support for reproductive rights and congressional term limits (she vowed she’d serve no more than two terms, then return to Maine and let someone else take her place).
 The state has one of the highest percentages of independent voters—about 38 percent, according to the Secretary of State’s office. And even voters affiliated with a party regularly split tickets in the ballot booth. In 2008, Collins won all 16 counties in the state. That same year, Barack Obama took all but one. Both succeeded by distancing themselves from the policies of George W. Bush. In 2014, Collins was reelected with nearly 70 percent of the vote; two years later, Hillary Clinton picked up three out of four electoral votes, while Trump collected just one.

[S]he also prides herself on voting against her party more than any other senator, in either party.

But some observers of her career say those number don’t really add up—or at least they haven’t in over a decade. They say she’s rarely, if ever, opposed Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell since the 2009 stimulus debate (Collins famously stepped across party lines to vote for the resulting recovery act, but only after gutting it of several key provisions, including funding for schools and pandemic flu preparations).
[I]n September 2017 she resisted Trump’s highest legislative priority—overturning Obamacare—by announcing she would not support a repeal plan. Pundits on the far right accused her of being a closet Democrat. But many in her home state cheered the independent-minded senator they’d long known and loved.

That enthusiasm began to erode in December that year, when Collins voted in favor of a tax reform bill that not only included the biggest cut to the corporate tax rate but also included a substantial cut for wealthy Americans. Then, in 2018, came the Supreme Court nomination of Brett Kavanaugh, widely viewed as a anti-abortion ally with a history of writing in favor of stricter governmental regulation of abortion . . . . . the pressure on Collins to reject his nomination became intense. Sexual assault survivors flew to Washington to share their stories and opposition to his candidacy.

It also brought unexpected financial challenges. In the weeks leading up to the Kavanaugh confirmation, several nonprofit organizations in the state banded together to launch a crowd-funded campaign to fuel any potential Collins challenger. The campaign stipulated that any money raised would be allocated only if the sitting senator voted in favor of Kavanaugh. They quickly raised almost $4 million, even though Democrats had yet to choose a candidate to oppose her.

On October 5, 2018, Collins took to the Senate floor with a 45-minute speech announcing her support for Kavanaugh and delivering a harsh rebuke of what she called “a confirmation process that has become so dysfunctional, it looks more like a caricature of a gutter-level political campaign than a solemn occasion.” This stand aligned her with some of Trump’s most reflexive defenders in the Senate, such as Joni Ernst of Iowa and Shelley Moore Capito of West Virginia, while Murkowski, with whom she had once been allied in opposition to DeVos, remained conspicuously silent about her views of Kavanaugh, choosing to vote “present” rather than in favor of nominee.

But has Collins turned her back on her supporters? Has she actually transformed from a reliable check on Trump, as she seemed to be in the early days of his administration, to a dependable ally who offers token criticism but votes with him on all key issues? Or have voters become so rigid in their opposition to Trump that they can no longer abide her support for anything that might be considered helpful to the leader of her party?

“Every decision she makes seems to align her more closely with the Donald Trump and Mitch McConnell movement,” Shea says. “Here in Maine, that’s become the anvil around her neck.”

Shea also points to figures like congressional voting records maintained by ProPublica. In 2009, Collins voted against her party 31 percent of the time. In 2019, that figure had dropped to around 11 percent. And while some of those votes included opposition to two federal judges otherwise supported by her party, many others were on issues considered insubstantial by congressional watchers.

The majority of the 1,008 respondents to the February Colby College poll felt that Collins was more interested in voting with political affiliations, rather than principles. It’s also a big reason why current Democratic state Speaker of the House Sara Gideon—a relative political newcomer who moved to the state in 2004—is ahead of Collins in both recent polls and fundraising efforts for the first quarter of this year, even though her party has yet to hold its primary.

Gideon has also received an endorsement from the League of Conservation Voters, an environmental advocacy nonprofit that endorsed Collins in her 2008 and 2014 campaigns.  . . . . In 2007 and 2008, Collins scored a perfect 100 percent. A decade later, it was 21 percent, thanks to her vote to confirm David Bernhardt as secretary of the Interior, and her endorsement of anti-environmental bills like one that sought to open up the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge to oil drilling.

“A member of Congress is expected to make up her mind about what is in the best interest of her constituents. Again and again, during Trump’s presidency, Collins has shown she’s not willing to do that,” Sittenfeld says. “We have an extreme and radical president who has so little interest in what is good for places like Maine. We need a champion who will stand up to him.”

“Maine women and Maine voters have remained consistent,” she told me last week. “Susan Collins is just not the leader she once was, particularly when it comes to reproductive health and rights. In the past, we counted on Senator Collins to put women’s health and well-being ahead of partisanship and political games, but we can no longer do so.”

Hopefully, Collins will be shown the door by voters come November.  Like just about everyone in the GOP, she has sold her soul.