It’s all so sordid.
Faced by a growing number of sexual-assault accusations, Rep. Eric Swalwell (D., Calif.) ended his campaign for governor and resigned from Congress. It was the only way to stop a House Ethics Committee investigation in which we would likely have heard even more allegations that would sicken our souls.
As a congressman, Mr. Swalwell was loud, abrasive and unconstructive. He was a performance artist, not a serious legislator. He measured success by how many clicks, retweets and cable hits he got, not by legislation passed or constituent services faithfully delivered. He won’t be missed, except by a few rabid Democrats who loved his unceasing hatred of Donald Trump.
Mr. Swalwell will be joined in political exile by Rep. Tony Gonzales (R., Texas), who followed suit, dogged by his own appalling alleged misconduct.
Full disclosure: Tony was my friend. My wife and I opened our home to host fundraisers, asking friends to support a congressional campaign based on an American success story. He grew up in modest circumstances, joined the Navy and rose to be a master chief petty officer and a Defense Department fellow assigned to the office of then-Sen. Marco Rubio (R., Fla.). He is a father of six who won a swing district in West Texas that is larger than many states.
He had the makings of an influential legislator. He worked hard to secure the border of his district, which ran for hundreds of miles along the Rio Grande. He tried to fix a broken immigration system. He was growing in respect and influence on the important committees on which he served—Appropriations and Homeland Security.
But he, too, apparently surrendered to dark impulses. The accusations of his sexual misconduct aren’t as numerous as Mr. Swalwell’s but terrible in themselves. He allegedly wrecked lives with his behavior.
Both men’s actions sprang, at least in part, from a perverted sense of personal power. That isn’t new. Congress has had plenty of wayward members and scandals, sexual and otherwise. America has survived them.
But these latest incidents come just when Americans hate politics to a nearly unprecedented degree. These politicians deepened distrust at precisely the moment when voters are desperate for leaders—someone, anywhere—to act with integrity and build up trust.
That’s why it’s so sad that the president—after making a vulgar Truth Social post on Easter about the Iran war, followed by a declaration that “a whole civilization will die tonight”—would think Sunday evening a good time to post an image depicting himself as Jesus, dressed in white robes, hand glowing, angels above him, healing a bedridden man.
Faced with blowback from Christians, he deleted the post Monday, claiming “I thought it was me as a doctor, and had to do with Red Cross, as a Red Cross worker there, which we support.” His lame answer didn’t calm the criticism. It only made things worse. He should have fessed up and apologized.
It didn’t help that Mr. Trump posted the image after attacking Pope Leo XIV on Truth Social. The president called the pope “terrible for foreign policy” and “WEAK on Crime” later adding that Leo “likes crime, I guess.” Mr. Trump even claimed credit for the pope’s selection, saying cardinals “thought that would be the best way to deal with President Donald J. Trump. If I wasn’t in the White House, Leo wouldn’t be in the Vatican.” No, Mr. President: Members of the Sacred College of Cardinals were trying to do right by a greater Power than you.
