1Lawrence Jacobs’ Democracy Under Fire contributes to the emerging literature about Donald Trump’s catastrophic and avoidable rise to power. Avoiding broad socio-cultural explanations, Jacobs instead examines a structural feature of American politics that has received less attention than the rise of the alt-right, the proliferation of misinformation on social media, or any of the other factors that contributed to the ideological polarization that nourished Trump’s victory. Instead, he lays blame on the primary system that has, he contends, always threatened to vault opportunistic demagogues into contention for the presidency. Introduced haltingly during the Progressive Era, held at bay for nearly a half century, then adopted on a wide scale from the 1970s onward, the primary system sidelines party insiders and rewards candidates (like Trump) who distinguish themselves by questioning the legitimacy of existing rules and procedures and who relying on populist appeals to an outraged minority of white voters.

2In a readable, succinct, and largely synthetic account (relying heavily on legal/political historians like Michael Klarman, Gordon Wood, and Sean Wilentz to develop the bulk of his narrative) Jacobs considers direct primaries within the history of alterations to a Constitutional framework that contained the “strong democracy” of the 1780s while simultaneously creating rules and procedures that restrained elite ambition. During the early decades of the 19th century, for example, candidates like Thomas Jefferson and Andrew Jackson relied on new party organizations to forge a new political culture that amplified popular moods and passions, channeling them toward universal white male suffrage while reserving candidate selection to national parties. More than a half century later, Progressive leaders like Wisconsin’s Robert La Follette advocated for direct, state-level primaries as a means of furthering the “consent of the governed” and bypassing allegedly corrupt party leadership. Such efforts to undermine the authority of party insiders foundered, however. Progressive critics warned that primaries would heighten intra-party factions and place emphasis on short-term objectives (e.g., securing the party’s nomination) at the expense of long-term goals, including implementing policies supported by the broad expanse of the party. In practice, as Jacobs explains, these early primaries served most useful for Southern whites, who eagerly adopted them as a means of securing Jim Crow disparities and preserving racial inequities by restricting participation to whites alone. Moreover, national party leaders resisted their full implementation, and up through the late 1960s mainstream presidential candidates only sparingly entered what were regarded as “risky” primary campaigns contests that appealed largely to outsider contenders.

3For Democratic party activists during the 1960s and early 1970s, the revival of direct primaries seemed an appealing tool for prying the party out of the hands of those who had neutralized criticism of the Vietnam War during the turbulent and bloody campaign of 1968. Although the modern primary system was intended to further the goal of producing an inclusive, multiracial democracy, Jacobs reminds us that one of its first beneficiaries was the segregationist reactionary George Wallace, who spewed racist populism to tens of millions of receptive voters in 1972 and served as a harbinger of much worse to come. Ultimately, Jacobs explains, the primary system “failed to block this political deviant, and its incentive structure deterred Republicans from . . . doing the right thing for the country” (Jacobs 19).

4Like the Progressive critics whose warnings he highlights, Jacobs bemoans primaries for accelerating intra-party factions and placing emphasis on short-term objectives (e.g., securing the party’s nomination) at the expense of long-term goals, including implementing and sustaining policies supported by the broad, moderate expanse of the party. Although the introduction and proliferation of direct primaries was premised on the virtue of allowing the people (rather than venal party insiders) choose their nominees, the primaries themselves have not delivered on the promise of more democracy. Rather, they are marred by low turnout; favor activists who are more organized, educated, and affluent; heighten intra-party factions and produce candidates who are more ideologically polarized than the electorate; siphon resources better devoted to engaging citizens in the political process; and further racial disparities that menace the ideal of universal suffrage. Primaries are symptomatic of the “election mania” that distinguishes US political culture from its democratic peers. No other democracy, Jacobs points out, relies on intra-party primaries to the same extent as the United States. Because we wrongly equate elections with democracy, we have devoted less effort to the broader work of citizen engagement and organization. “If American democracy is going to better approach its founding principles of political equality and popular consent,” Jacobs advises, “we need to revitalize citizens and reorient elite competition to restrain ambition and reward service to the common good” (Jacobs 189).

5Reforming the primary system, Jacobs concludes, will prove difficult. Small, pragmatic changes will more likely succeed than transformative efforts that will almost certainly engender vigorous opposition from those government officials, activists, party leaders, and donors who benefit from the existing system. Jacobs’ recommendations—fewer and more meaningful elections, boosting the power of convention superdelegates, and defending the practice of free and fair elections by professionalizing the administration of elections — are offered as small steps toward restoring a moderate, representative role for political parties. Readers may wonder if Jacobs’ suggestions—sensible as they may be—would be sufficient to prevent another catastrophe. As we head into 2024, the United States faces the astonishing possibility that a candidate currently facing 91 state and federal charges—and the only former president ever to sit for a mugshot—will not only be reaffirmed as his party’s nominee but may very well return to the office in which he was twice impeached. If Jacobs is correct in describing the structural causes for Trump’s ascent to power, minor fixes to that system will likely seem overmatched by the damage he has already caused—and that he will surely widen in a second term.