Democracy Is Sacred. Unless the “Wrong” Side Wins.

I spent part of this weekend trying to understand the constitutional crisis in Poland. Having grown up in neighboring Belarus, I have a particular interest in the region.

Poland’s pro-EU government says it is restoring judicial independence after years of interference by its conservative predecessor. The opposition accuses it of attempting to seize control of the judiciary. Both sides insist they are defending democracy.

But what exactly makes a government democratic? Is it being pro-EU? Supporting liberal immigration policies? Holding the right views on social issues? Or is democracy fundamentally about respecting elections, the rule of law and the rights of those with whom we disagree?

When did defending democracy become indistinguishable from defending our preferred political outcomes?

And just as I was finishing my reading about Poland, news from Michigan hit the wires, providing a rather timely American illustration.

Haley Stevens, who lost the Democratic Senate primary to Abdul El-Sayed, had broken with her party and endorsed Republican Mike Rogers. Chuck Schumer, who had supported Stevens in the primary before backing El-Sayed, called her decision a “despicable betrayal.”

A betrayal of whom, exactly?

For years, Democrats celebrated Republicans who broke with Donald Trump. Liz Cheney, Adam Kinzinger and others were praised for their courage, integrity and willingness to put country over party.

Apparently, that principle has an expiration date. Or perhaps just a party affiliation.

What changed? The principle, or the party that stands to lose?

The episode struck a particularly familiar chord because of a conversation I had recently with someone whose judgment I had long respected, even when we disagreed politically.

He was encouraging me to support a slate of Democratic candidates, including El-Sayed. I challenged his inclusion, given my serious concerns about El-Sayed’s political judgment, rhetoric and associations, particularly his decision to campaign alongside Hasan Piker, whose statements about America, September 11 and Hamas have drawn widespread condemnation.

His response was that defeating Trump was the priority. He also spoke passionately about the need to eliminate political sycophancy.

I couldn’t help appreciating the irony.

We are supposed to defeat political sycophancy by practicing it ourselves?

I told him that including El-Sayed on his list had cost the other candidates my support as well.

I can respect political disagreement. What I find much harder to respect is the expectation that I should abandon my principles simply because someone else has decided that winning matters more.

I came away from that conversation disappointed, not because we disagreed, but because I had expected better.

It reminded me of Rubashov, the protagonist of Arthur Koestler’s Darkness at Noon, a book I read in college. Rubashov spent his life rationalizing the Party’s actions because he believed so deeply in its ultimate cause.

What struck me was how easily intelligent, otherwise principled people can recognize a contradiction and still find a way to justify it when they believe their cause is righteous.

What troubled me was not that he wanted Democrats to win. It was that winning had become the answer to every objection.

And I suspect I won’t be invited to his next dinner party.

Which brings me back to Schumer.

He supported Stevens in the primary, then backed El-Sayed after his victory. Fair enough. That is how party politics works.

But apparently, Stevens was not entitled to make her own judgment about the candidate who defeated her.

Schumer is entitled to disagree with Stevens, even strongly. Endorsing a candidate from the opposing party has real political consequences. But disagreement is not the same as betrayal.

Betrayal implies an obligation of loyalty. To whom? A political party? Its leadership? Or the principles that supposedly brought its members together in the first place?

For years, Democrats have accused Republicans of placing loyalty to Trump above their principles. Yet when a Democrat refuses to fall in line, Schumer suddenly discovers the virtues of party discipline.

Apparently, political courage is admirable only when it costs the other party votes.

And the irony is particularly rich coming from a man who has long presented himself as a shomer, a guardian of Israel and the Jewish people.

There is a difference between being a guardian of principles and a gatekeeper of political power.

Schumer may genuinely believe that reclaiming the Senate majority is essential to protecting the values he holds dear. But that is precisely the argument that should make us uncomfortable: once winning becomes the overriding moral imperative, almost any compromise can be justified.

What exactly is he guarding here? His principles? The interests of the people he claims to represent? Or his party’s prospects of reclaiming the Senate majority?

A guardian is supposed to know the difference between what he has been entrusted to protect and what he personally wants to preserve.

Schumer can argue that Stevens made the wrong political choice. What he cannot credibly do is celebrate independence as a moral virtue in Republicans and condemn it as betrayal in Democrats.

That is not a defense of principle. It is a defense of political convenience.

Perhaps growing up in the Soviet Union made me particularly sensitive to this contradiction.

I remember a system in which virtually every government action was justified in the name of the people. The state claimed to protect equality, justice and the collective good. Those who disagreed were portrayed as threats to those very ideals.

Of course, American democracy is not Soviet totalitarianism. But the temptation to bend principles in pursuit of a supposedly greater good is hardly unique to any political system.

The trouble with arguing that the ends justify the means is that everyone believes their own ends are righteous.

Democracy does not require us to agree with those who win elections, or to support candidates whose values we reject. It requires us to respect the rules, the outcome of legitimate elections and the right of others to exercise their own judgment.

Political integrity cannot mean celebrating independence when it weakens our opponents while condemning it as betrayal when it threatens our own power.

Democracy is not tested when our side wins.

It is tested when the “wrong” side wins, and we still respect the rules.