After five years spent bullying the Republican Party into submission, President Donald Trump finally met his match in Aaron Van Langevelde. Who? That’s right. In the end, it wasn’t a senator or a judge or a general who stood up to the leader of the free world. There was no dramatic, made-for-Hollywood collision of cosmic egos. Rather, the death knell of Trump’s presidency was sounded by a baby-faced lawyer, looking over his glasses on a grainy Zoom feed on a gloomy Monday afternoon, reading from a statement that reflected a courage and moral clarity that has gone AWOL from his party, pleading with the tens of thousands of people watching online to understand that some lines can never be uncrossed. “We must not attempt to exercise power we simply don’t have,” declared Van Langevelde, a member of Michigan’s board of state canvassers, the ministerial body with sole authority to make official Joe Biden’s victory over Trump. “As John Adams once said, 'We are a government of laws, not men.' This board needs to adhere to that principle here today. This board must do its part to uphold the rule of law and comply with our legal duty to certify this election.” Van Langevelde is a Republican. He works for Republicans in the Statehouse. He gives legal guidance to advance Republican causes and win Republican campaigns. As a Republican, his mandate for Monday’s hearing—handed down from the state party chair, the national party chair and the president himself—was straightforward. They wanted Michigan’s board of canvassers to delay certification of Biden’s victory. Never mind that Trump lost by more than 154,000 votes, or that results were already certified in all 83 counties.
National: With Recounts, States Mix Civics, Spectator Sport and a Bit of Tedium | Sara Randazzo and Alexa Corse/Wall Street Journal
By the time Travis Weipert reported to the office Nov. 4, he knew his work as steward of the elections in Johnson County, Iowa, was far from over. The two candidates vying for the local congressional seat in the previous day’s election were separated by less than a percentage point. A recount, he sensed, was inevitable. “We knew to buckle up for a long ride,” Mr. Weipert said. After ping-ponging for a few days, the districtwide results showed Republican Mariannette Miller-Meeks ahead of Rita Hart, the Democratic candidate, by 47 votes out of more than 394,400 cast. Ms. Hart called for a recount Nov. 12, kicking off a process that is still under way and that Iowa hadn’t undertaken for a race of this scale in more than a century. By Friday, Ms. Miller-Meeks’s lead had narrowed to just eight votes. This year’s drawn-out election cycle, spurred in part by the rise of mail-in ballots cast during the coronavirus pandemic, has been even longer in states where initial tallies showed races ending in razor-thin margins. Recounts in Iowa, Wisconsin, Georgia and elsewhere have involved legions of local election officials and volunteer election workers, who must follow exacting and at times arcane methods designed to ensure every vote gets counted properly. They are counting ballots in tight races up and down the ballot, not just for president. For the public and the candidates, the recounts become part civics lesson, part spectator sport.
Full Article: With Recounts, States Mix Civics, Spectator Sport and a Bit of Tedium - WSJ
