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Chapter 62 Peacemaker
"Corde, since you're being so direct, I won't beat around the bush either."
Sanders dropped his affable expression, his eyes sharpening.
"This isn't just about the bill; it's about the rules."
"We're discussing how to unite and how to win the election in Washington. But in the local areas, in Pennsylvania, some people are using underhanded tactics to try and stifle our most dynamic candidate."
Montoya frowned. "Pennsylvania? What are you talking about?"
As the House Whip, he focuses on the overall vote count and is not fully aware of the specific local disputes.
“Pittsburgh,” Sanders uttered the name. “One of my young men, Leo Wallace, is running for mayor there. A few days ago, his VAN system data access was cut off without any reason.”
"The reason given is the so-called 'data compliance review,' which cites a new rule passed by the Democratic National Committee just three months ago."
Sanders looked at Montoya, his tone laced with sarcasm.
"Corde, you and I both know that level of technological blockade is beyond the capabilities of that idiot mayor of Pittsburgh. It's someone within the Democratic National Committee pulling strings, trying to set rules for the progressives and tell us that this is still their territory."
Montoya was taken aback.
He never imagined that a congressional upheaval that caused the $5 billion bill to fail would stem from a data interface problem in a city's mayoral primary election.
This is like using a nuclear bomb to kill a mosquito.
"Just for this?" Montoya exclaimed incredulously. "You dare to pull such a stunt in the House of Representatives just for a mayoral candidate's account?"
"Yes, just for this."
Sanders' voice suddenly rose in pitch and became full of power.
"If our candidates are fighting on the front lines only to be stabbed in the back by their own people; if we can't even guarantee a fair competitive environment, what unity are we talking about? What victory in the midterm elections are we talking about?"
"Corde, this is no small matter; it's a signal."
"If someone wants to cleanse us, then we'll shut down the whole machine."
Silence fell over the office.
Montoya looked at the stubborn old man before him and knew that Sanders was serious.
The breakdown of this political tacit understanding, and this reckless overturning of the table, gave Montoya a real headache.
As a party whip, he can only solve problems.
"Alright." Montoya took a deep breath and sat back down in his chair. "I'll look into it. If someone on the Democratic National Committee is overstepping their bounds, I'll tell them to back down."
"It's not just about restraint." Sanders stood up, straightened his suit, and said, "I want to see results."
……
Three days later, at the Democratic National Committee headquarters.
The closed-door meeting of the Rules and Regulations Committee is being held in a spacious conference room.
This is the most crucial meeting to determine the allocation of resources for next year's midterm elections.
The long oval conference table was filled with Democratic Party bigwigs, establishment leaders, representatives of major labor unions, agents of major donors, and core members of the progressive wing.
The air was thick with tension.
The unexpected incident in the House of Representatives was like a dark cloud hanging over everyone's heads.
The chairman of the Democratic National Committee, a meticulously groomed man and a typical representative of the establishment elite, spoke first.
He turned on the microphone, his tone calm, but his words were barbed.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the situation in next year's midterm elections is very challenging. In order to retain our majority in Congress, we need to concentrate our resources more effectively."
"We need to ensure that every candidate we nominate is broadly acceptable. We cannot allow extreme, controversial statements to scare away moderate voters."
His gaze swept over the progressive committee members present.
"Therefore, I propose that in the allocation of primary resources in swing states, we should favor moderate and stable candidates. At the same time, we should conduct more rigorous background checks and qualification screenings for radical candidates who may cause controversy."
This is practically a direct declaration: "We're going to purge all of Sanders' people."
A low murmur arose in the conference room.
The pro-establishment committee members nodded frequently in agreement.
It was Sanders' turn to speak.
He was not a member of the committee, but as a senior member of the Senate, he had the right to attend and speak.
He slowly stood up.
"Mr. Chairman, colleagues."
Sanders' voice was hoarse, but extremely penetrating.
"The Chairman just spoke of broad acceptability and robustness, and those are very appealing words."
"But I'd like to ask you all, while we're here talking about how to win the election, what is our party headquarters doing in the real world, in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania?"
He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket; it was a printout of the red warning screenshot that Leo had received.
He slammed the paper heavily onto the conference table.
"They are using the most despicable and shameless bureaucratic tactics to try to stifle our own party's most dynamic young candidate, the one most likely to win the support of the working class!"
"Leo Wallace, a young man who started from scratch in the Rust Belt and brought thousands of politically disillusioned blue-collar workers back to the Democratic Party, had his data access inexplicably cut off a few days ago!"
"As for the reason, it's a ridiculous technical violation!"
Sanders's gaze swept across the conference table of several high-ranking members of the Democratic National Committee.
"I know whose idea this was, and I know what you're trying to do."
"You're afraid he'll win. You're afraid a disobedient progressive mayor will destroy your carefully woven web of interests in Pennsylvania."
"But I want to tell you."
Sanders' voice was full of pressure.
"This is not merely an attack on Mr. Wallace personally; it is a blatant trampling on the party's democratic processes!"
"If we start this kind of purge during the primaries, what right do we have to accuse the Republicans of suppressing voters?"
The chairman's face turned grim, and he tried to interrupt Sanders.
"Senator, this is a meeting about resource allocation. We can address individual issues after the meeting..."
"This is a matter of resource allocation!" Sanders raised his voice, interrupting the chairman. "Data is the most crucial resource!"
"I'm putting my words here today."
Sanders looked around and issued his final ultimatum.
"If the Democratic National Committee cannot guarantee all our candidates, whether they are moderates or progressives, a fair, just, and transparent primary environment."
"If this farce in Pittsburgh is not rectified within 24 hours, and those responsible do not apologize to Mr. Wallace."
"Well then, everyone."
Sanders paused for a moment.
"What happened in the House of Representatives, that failed vote, will only be the beginning."
"We will have to reassess all our voting positions in the Senate."
"We might even consider calling on our supporters to boycott candidates selected through unfair processes in next year's midterm elections."
"You want a civil war? Fine, then we'll give you a civil war."
After saying that, Sanders turned around and left the conference room.
He left behind a room full of party bigwigs with ashen faces.
Montoya sat in the corner, watching Sanders' departing figure, and rubbed his temples helplessly.
The truth about Pittsburgh can't be hidden any longer.
To disrupt the entire legislative agenda of Congress for the sake of a mayoral primary is too high a price to pay.
The establishment must back down.
……
The closed-door meeting of the Democratic National Committee's Rules and Bylaws Committee ended in a suffocating silence.
After the crowd in the meeting room dispersed, House Majority Whip Cord Montoya had the driver take the car back to the Capitol.
Montoya pushed open the door to his office and threw his wet trench coat onto the sofa.
He walked to the liquor cabinet, poured himself a glass of bourbon, but didn't drink it; he just stared blankly at the amber liquid.
As the third-ranking Democrat in the House of Representatives, the core responsibility of the Whip position is singular.
That is, counting votes; he wants to ensure that every sheep in the party enters the right sheepfold at the right time.
He wants to ensure that the Democratic agenda can pass smoothly in the House of Representatives and that party unity can be maintained at least superficially acceptable levels.
But what has happened in the last few days is destroying the order he has maintained for many years.
The House vote's failure to pass supplementary provisions to the regional economic recovery bill is not just a legislative setback, but also a dangerous sign.
This signifies a breakdown in the political consensus within the party.
This time, Sanders and his progressive allies are not just grumbling; they are genuinely ready to overturn the table.
Montoya needs to figure out exactly where the problem lies.
Who exactly lit the powder keg in Pittsburgh at this crucial moment with the midterm elections just around the corner?
He picked up the phone on the table and dialed an internal number.
"I want to see you in my office in half an hour."
His tone left no room for argument.
The person on the other end of the phone was Harlan Graves, the vice president of the Democratic National Committee responsible for overseeing party affairs in each state.
A typical Washingtonian, a veteran bureaucrat who has spent thirty years in the party system, and a staunch establishment gatekeeper.
Thirty minutes later.
Harlan Graves arrived at Montoya’s office right on time.
He looked somewhat disheveled, his tie was askew, and a few drops of rain clung to his forehead.
"sit."
Montoya pointed to the chair opposite the desk.
Graves sat down, rubbing his hands together nervously.
"Corde, it's so late, is there something urgent?"
Montoya did not answer, but simply pushed a copy of the notification about the blocking of the Pittsburgh VAN system gently in front of Graves.
"Give me an explanation, Harlan."
Montoya's voice was calm.
"How could a Pittsburgh mayoral primary, a local election that doesn't even make national news, escalate to the point where Daniel Sanders is willing to turn against us in the House of Representatives?"
"How could we have lost fifteen votes on such a crucial bill?"
"How could we be accused of being election fraudsters at a rules committee meeting?"
Graves glanced at the document, his eyes darting away.
"Korde, this is... this is a technology compliance issue."
He tried to brush it off with that set of official rhetoric.
"Based on the latest data security guidelines, we discovered a risk with the data interface of that candidate in Pittsburgh. This is just a routine review, you know, we need to ensure..."
"That's enough!"
Montoya slammed his hand on the table.
"Don't try to fool me with those laymen's lies!"
He stood up, walked around the desk, and stood in front of Graves, looking down at him.
"I'm the whip, Harlan. I know the price of every deal in this building, I know the shady dealings behind every bill."
"But what I don't understand is, why would we deliberately provoke that crazy old man Sanders at a time like this?"
"That 14th Amendment was only passed three months ago, and not many people even fully understand its scope of application yet, and you're already applying it to a young man in Pittsburgh?"
"Tell me the truth, Harlan. Whose idea was this? What was the purpose?"
Under Montoya's intensely intimidating gaze, Graves's psychological defenses finally crumbled.
He sighed and slumped into the chair.
"Alright, Cod, since you insist on knowing."
Graves took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"You have to understand our situation. The situation is extremely serious for next year's midterm elections."
"Our polling numbers in swing states are very bad, and Republicans are attacking us relentlessly."
"They seized on the rhetoric of some of the more radical members of our party, things like cutting police spending, opening borders, and universal healthcare, and they put those labels on every Democratic candidate."
"They are trying to portray our entire party as radical socialists."
"If we can't get under control in the primaries, if we let too many radical candidates win the nominations, then by the time of the general election, we'll lose everything in Florida, Ohio, and Pennsylvania."
Graves looked up at Montoya, a hint of ruthlessness flashing in his eyes.
"We need to cleanse the ranks, Cod."
"We need to ensure that every candidate we field in swing states is the safest, the most moderate, and the most acceptable to swing voters."
"We need to prove to all donors and independent voters that the Democratic Party remains a rational and responsible party, not a crazy left that has been hijacked by Sanders and his ilk."
Montoya frowned more and more as he listened to these words.
"So, you chose Pittsburgh?"
"Yes, Pittsburgh is a perfect example."
Graves nodded and continued.
"That young man named Leo Wallace, he's got too much momentum. He's stirred up the workers' emotions in the Rust Belt with those populist slogans."
"If he actually wins the primary and becomes the mayor of Pittsburgh, it will send an extremely dangerous signal to other progressive candidates across the country."
"They would think that a radical approach works in the Rust Belt."
"This will trigger a chain reaction, causing us to lose control in more constituencies."
"Therefore, we must defeat him."
"We urgently need some negative examples to prove that Sanders' radicalism is completely incapable of surviving in a traditional industrial city like Pittsburgh, and will only create chaos and division."
"Once this is proven, once Wallace suffers a crushing defeat, we will be able to legitimately strip the progressives of their primary election resource allocation rights at a formal meeting of the Rules Committee."
"We can then allocate our limited funds to more stable and compliant centrist candidates."
"This is our plan, Codd. It's a necessary operation, and although it may be a little painful, it's to save the patient's life."
After Graves finished speaking, he looked at Montoya, seemingly hoping that the whip would understand the decision made for the greater good.
But what he received in return was a cold laugh from Montoya.