To Defeat the Texas Gerrymander, Democrats Need to Take a Lesson from the Cold War
Arkadi Gerney and Sarah Knight Washington Post
Protesters carry signs against redistricting at the Indianapolis Statehouse on Aug. 7 (photo: Michael Conroy/AP)
It’s not enough for blue states to redraw their maps. Leaders need to hit the GOP where it hurts most.
Increasingly, Democrats understand that deterrence is not optional. It is the only alternative to collapse. But, if the debate around whether Democrats should play hardball is almost over, the debate about how is just beginning.
To that end, those looking to counter red state power grabs like Texas’s should look to another period of brinkmanship for inspiration: The Cold War.
During the decades-long nuclear standoff between the U.S. and Soviet Union, leaders on both sides relied on a state of mutually assured destruction to keep the two countries from stumbling into an apocalyptic war.
There are two strategic concepts from that era that apply well to Democrats today: counterforce and countervalue.
Counterforce posits that the best way to deter an opponent is to credibly threaten the use of one’s own nuclear capability to strike at the opponent’s nuclear forces. In the context of today’s redistricting wars, that means neutralizing the weapons Republicans are using — directly, surgically and proportionally — within the sandbox of redistricting, like we’re seeing from New York and California. They gerrymander their big red state; we gerrymander our big blue state.
It’s the cleaner option, keeping the battlefield limited to the same weapons — and targets — as the adversary. But it requires speed, coordination and a willingness by blue-state leaders to shed the “good government” constraints that now leave them unilaterally disarmed.
It’s good that Democratic leaders are trying to leverage counterforce deterrence on redistricting. But, if New York, California and other blue states want to deter red state aggression more comprehensively, they also need to consider the grislier logic of countervalue.
Rather than threatening to destroy an adversary’s military capabilities, a countervalue strategy in the context of actual nuclear war is focused on making credible threats against cities with tens of millions of civilians on the theory that those losses would be simply intolerable. While morally reprehensible, countervalue offered an efficient, credible and cost-effective deterrence strategy during the Cold War.
In our domestic context, it means using the full weight of blue states’ market power, cultural influence and legal authority to raise the stakes of Republican red state aggression. That means making it harder for corporations to operate in states that obliterate fair elections. It means using their economic might to impose regulatory and economic costs that bite hard enough to make the constituents of even the most insulated legislator feel the pain. In other words, it means countering red state aggression with potential actions that go beyond reciprocity and may impose disproportionate costs.
Red states have already designed their own weapons for the countervalue war plan. In their effort to uproot corporate “persity, equity, and inclusion” and “environmental, social, and governance” practices, for example, Republicans leaders used a full gamut of state economic leverage to not only influence in-state company operations but also to put the squeeze on their practices everywhere. For instance, Texas blacklisted BlackRock, the massive New York-headquartered financial asset manager, for promoting ESG investing, pulling more than $8 billion in state funds out of the firm and rallying other red states to do the same. As a result, BlackRock publicly abandoned its ESG focus.
Drawing from the Texas playbook, blue states could band together to pest pension fund investments from — and bar any state contracts with — Texas companies. Blue states could also provide relocation bonuses to induce Lone Star teachers, doctors and nurses to leave Texas and move to underserved areas in their states — exacerbating staffing shortages in Texas while resolving them at home. States such as New York and California with large economies could explore creative financial transaction and data-processing taxes using facially neutral criteria that happen to disproportionately affect Texas businesses.
Considering countervalue deterrence is not about becoming what we hate. It is about denying Republicans the ability to leverage asymmetrical aggression to reshape the United States unilaterally. And there’s no reason Texas should be winning the fight to leverage market power: The 15 blue trifectas (states where Democrats control the governor’s mansion and both houses of the state legislature), with their larger state budgets and more generous pensions, have state investments that total almost 75 percent more than the 23 red trifectas.
As in nuclear war, countervalue responses by blue states to retaliate against red state aggression will ultimately hurt citizens in all states. But Cold War game theory tells us that the best way to avoid the mutual destruction of countervalue retaliation is to make your adversary believe in your determination to leverage it. Only then can you forge a lasting détente.
It may make voters in Illinois, California and New York very uncomfortable to consider economic warfare that could harm working class Texans — people they have no quarrel with. But their willingness to consider and credibly threaten such approaches may be the best, and perhaps only, way to preserve our national democracy for New Yorkers, Texans and all Americans.