The Dark Before the Dawn’s Early Light

As I drove from Philadelphia to Harrisburg this weekend, I was reminded that the American experiment hasn’t always been easy – and was hard-won. My route took me past Valley Forge, where ill-supplied and exhausted troops of the Continental Army hunkered down for the winter. When they entered the encampment, the troops under Gen. George Washington were a band of loosely affiliated militias. When they emerged in the spring, they were a united fighting force and the epitome of American resolve.

The road to the state capital also took me past an exit for Gettysburg, the site of the Civil War’s bloodiest battle, where Abraham Lincoln later expressed the fervent hope that the fallen had not died in vain but instead had brought about “new birth of freedom” on these shores.

The last decade has revealed deep divides in our country; the upcoming presidential election and its aftermath will certainly burden our nation further. The days and weeks ahead likely won’t feel as hopeless as they did for Washington’s soldiers or the crucible of the Civil War, but for many Americans, they will feel bleak. Regardless of who wins, one side will likely feel cheated. I understand that sentiment.

In 2014, I ran for the U.S. Senate in Kansas as an independent. Ten years ago today, I was hopeful. Our campaign’s pre-election poll had us winning by one point over a three-term incumbent Republican. According to my pollster, his counterpart in my opponent’s campaign also had us winning.

On Election Day, the exit polls were effectively tied through 2 p.m. Reports came back that evening from my opponent’s watch party suggesting the mood was more appropriate for a wake. The possibility of me winning seemed likely.

We were alerted earlier in the week by both a political insider and a former candidate to look out for last-minute dirty tricks. As the afternoon turned to evening, we got reports back that some polling equipment was down in precincts that we thought were inclined to vote disproportionately for us. That was obviously concerning and seemed to validate the warnings we had been receiving. When the results started coming in, our hope quickly faded. Despite our polls and the exit polls, we ended up losing by more than 10 points.

Post-election questions swirled regarding the results. Was it a polling error of a magnitude never seen before or something else? How could the Election Day exit polls be so far off?

Adding to the uncertainty was the fact that the voter file for the race wasn’t available immediately after the election, denying us the ability to make sense of the results. This was despite the fact that all the information was transmitted electronically from Kansas’ 105 counties to the secretary of state the day after the race. Months later, that file was made available, but the data from Kansas’ four largest counties wasn’t provided in machine-readable form. Coincidentally, those were the only counties where the lead county election officer is selected by the secretary of state. In all other counties, the county clerk, who oversees elections, is independently elected by the citizens. At the time, Kansas’ secretary of state was deeply partisan, adding to the suspicion.

A Wichita State University mathematician filed a lawsuit seeking the paper tapes from the electronic voting machines. Her analysis suggested the result was statistically impossible. She also pointed out that Republicans tend to do better in smaller precincts. In our race, the Republican vote share was u-shaped. My opponent did disproportionately better in both large precincts and small ones. This seemed implausible.

Her case was dismissed because the judge ruled that a private citizen could not have access to ballots. The judge did leave open the opportunity for a recount but suggested that any recount wouldn’t change the results of the election because it had already been certified by the secretary of state. That certification tends to happen within a week of the race, leaving little incentive and opportunity for anyone to challenge the results unless they are extremely close.

As much as I wanted to win that election and as much as I was seeing “evidence” everywhere that something was off, I soon arrived at a hard conclusion: I lost. After everything my wife and I put into that race, the thousands of volunteer hours, the work of dedicated staff, after enduring endless criticism, attack ads, and even threats, I wanted a different result. I wanted to believe every independent data point that suggested something was off. That I really won. But the truth was simple – more Kansans wanted my opponent to stay in office than wanted me to replace him.

As results come in tomorrow night and over the next few days, the losing side will cry foul. But the truth, as hard as it is to swallow, will be different. If Vice President Kamala Harris loses, it won’t be because she was cheated. It will be because of feelings of economic unease, concerns over the border, and perhaps because demographic segments of the Democrats’ coalition (Arab Americans and some college-age Americans) declined to support Harris because of the Biden administration’s Middle East policies.

If Donald Trump loses, it won’t be because illegal immigrants were voting or alleged ballot stuffing in Philadelphia, Detroit, and Atlanta. But rather because American women mobilized to defend their rights, and Americans are exhausted by his lies and demeaning behavior and fear his authoritarian fantasies.

These next few weeks will likely be hard for our American family. It will seem darker, more ominous than normal. But America has a history of moving past its darkest moments. The Continental Army left Valley Forge and never looked back – securing independence from the British five years later. The Union Army emerged victorious at Gettysburg, a battle that turned the tide against the Confederacy and preserved our nation.

As you consider how to respond to the election results Tuesday night, consider the words of a real patriot, Dr. Joseph Warren, President of the Massachusetts Congress, whose greatness would be cut short in the Battle of Bunker Hill, where he served as a simple soldier.

“Our country is in danger, but not to be despaired of,” Warren told his comrades on the eve of battle. “On you depend the fortunes of America. You are to decide the important questions upon which rests the happiness and the liberty of millions yet unborn. Act worthy of yourselves.”

When you consider what constitutes “worthy,” remember that our nation is greater than any one candidate, one election, or one political party. Its durability rests not on who occupies the White House but rather on our ability as citizens to come together, even when we disagree, in service to that sacred social contract at the heart of the American idea – that we create a better nation for future generations. That comes not through vilifying and attacking our fellow citizens but through serving them.