For most Democrats – and probably many college presidents – the news on Friday of Rep. Elise Stefanik’s career implosion was likely met with classic schadenfreude, as the upstate MAGA acolyte joined a growing list of once-loyal-but-now-disposable Trump allies.
Just a few weeks earlier, one of Stefanik’s colleagues, Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene, went rogue and started criticizing the president over his handling of the Epstein files. Now, Trump mocks her as “Marjorie Traitor Greene” and her days in Congress are nearly over, as she’s retiring in early January. Stefanik will follow her to the private sector one year later, having decided not to run for reelection to Congress.
MAGA world had few members as loyal as Stefanik and MTG during the first Trump administration and in the run-up to last year‘s presidential election. The thought of them breaking up with their fearless leader – or being cast aside, depending on your perspective – was once unimaginable.
But that is what loyalty gets you these days in D.C. As the old saying goes: “In politics there are no long-term friendships, just temporary alliances.” Members of Congress who want a reliable friend should get a puppy.
Stefanik’s suspension of her gubernatorial campaign was the talk of the town late Friday, with even savvy politicos scratching their heads searching for a motive for such a drastic turnaround.
Stefanik only announced her candidacy six weeks ago but had been maneuvering to get the GOP nomination for many months, even successfully chasing fellow upstate Rep. Mike Lawler from the race.
It was no secret in D.C. that the 41-year-old, hard-charging representative of the North Country was looking for an escape route from Congress. It looked like her fierce loyalty to Trump had paid off after the 2024 election, when Trump nominated her to be U.N. Ambassador. Picturing Stefanik playing nicely in that East Side sandbox was stretching credulity, but her pugilism was actually a plus in MAGA land.
But before she could excoriate the U.N. Secretary General or ambassadors from other nations, Stefanik’s name was withdrawn. The GOP Congressional majority was just too narrow for them to leave her seat vacant until a special election.
She rebounded a few months ago when she decided to explore a gubernatorial run. The chance to sling mud for a year at Democratic incumbent Gov. Kathy Hochul seemed like a juicy opportunity for the ambitious pol.
After she announced her candidacy in early November, she was like a bronco out of the starting gate – every day my email inbox was littered with multiple screeching “Stefanik press” missives.
“Stefanik hits Hochul for Qatar-funded curriculum and teacher material in NYC that allegedly twists history of 9/11,” her campaign blasted out, citing a New York Post article. The only surprise in Stefanik’s release was the use of the word “allegedly,” a sign that even she was dubious about this report. That landed in my inbox on Dec. 18, a mere 24 hours before she suspended her campaign.
What transpired in that one day that changed everything for Stefanik? Her statement announcing the suspension of her campaign implied she had an epiphany that being a full-time mom was more important than chasing the state’s highest office.
Could be. And if that’s the case, more power to her and her family for making this tough choice.
But the political chattering class seemed to think that the real reason was two recent events involving Trump that upended her political career.
Her major campaign theme was tying Hochul and the Democrats to “Commie Mamdani,” and Stefanik thought she could ride that bogeyman story to the Governor’s mansion.
But a funny thing happened last month when the president actually met Mayor-elect Zohran Mamdani. We all remember that surreal scene in the Oval Office where the president looked adoringly at the new mayor-elect in a way that likely made Eric and Don Jr. jealous. No more “Commie Mamdani.” For Trump, it was now “my good friend Zohran, who I will help succeed in New York.” And when Trump was asked whether he agreed with Stefanik’s ludicrous claim that Mamdani was “a jihadist,” he publicly undermined her: “No, I don’t. But she’s out there campaigning, and you know, you say things sometimes in a campaign.”
After the U.N. debacle, this was the second time that Trump had betrayed Stefanik, his loyal acolyte who just a year ago took down two college presidents in Congressional hearings staged to prove her toughness to Trump and the rest of the world. (Somewhere, the former presidents of Harvard and the University of Pennsylvania were likely hoisting a pint last Friday night in celebration of Stefanik’s toppling.)
Things got worse for Stefanik a few weeks ago. Although statewide GOP Chair Ed Cox and almost all the GOP county leaders around the state had already endorsed her, Nassau County Executive Bruce Blakeman had the temerity to say he was actually going to challenge her in the gubernatorial primary.
The man whose previous claim to fame was that his ex-wife is married to Beatle Paul McCartney went down to D.C. to kiss the president’s ring, and all of a sudden Trump’s enthusiasm for Stefanik waned. He pronounced that Blakeman and Stefanik were “both good friends and great candidates” and implied that they should slug it out among themselves.
I can only imagine Stefanik’s reaction to that statement – likely rage that she was now triply screwed by Trump. She probably thought to herself: Screw it, I’m done with politics. Time to make a lot of money and spend more time with my family.
Stefanik’s only 41, so a comeback down the road – when Trump and her nemesis, House Speaker Mike Johnson, are long gone – is not inconceivable.
Karma caught up with the representative for the North Country. There’s only one person in this country who can insult everyone, trample on Democratic norms and still survive, and his initials are DJT.
Au revoir, ES and MTG, we hardly knew ye.
Tom Allon is the founder and publisher of City & State.
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