There are at least two layers to the government shutdown now about to enter its second week.
One is the standard fight between the two major parties, which has defined most government shutdowns since Bill Clinton was forced to share power with a Republican-controlled Congress in 1995. The second is a battle within the Democratic Party, with disenchanted progressives simultaneously pressuring and revolting against an ossified leadership class they perceive as constantly losing to President Donald Trump.
If the latter sounds familiar, simply swap out progressives for disenchanted conservatives, Democratic leaders for the Republican establishment, and Trump for the former President Barack Obama under the Tea Party more than a decade ago—really until that rebellion was more or less brought to heel by Trump.
Rank-and-file progressives believe, like their conservative counterparts before them, that they belong to a party led by people who are too old and too nice, who play by the rules while the other side breaks them. This leadership legitimacy crisis isn’t the only reason Democrats are polling abysmally as the first year of Trump’s second term winds down, but it’s an important one. It is also a good reason for Republicans to take only limited comfort from the Democrats’ bad poll numbers, which will probably be less bad in a binary choice election.
The second, more familiar shutdown dynamic is Democrats hoping to beat Republicans in a partisan political fight using what little leverage the party has against the GOP “trifecta”—a term like “gaggle” and “pool spray” that political reporters force us to use because they hate us and want us to sound ridiculous—of the House, Senate, and White House.
Even this part of the shutdown slog is a little different than usual, because the Democrats are up to the Tea Party’s old tricks. They are trying to extract policy concessions from the dominant Republicans while voting against “clean” continuing resolutions—both the adjective and noun here are further proof the political class hates us—and shutting down the government.
No, they don’t want spending cuts. But they are in effect trying to govern by virtue of having more senators than is necessary to sustain a filibuster, a golden Ted Cruz oldie in terms of legislative strategy. But the terms of the partisan disagreement are much more conventional: Democrats say they are for healthcare and Republicans are against it.
Specifically, some COVID-era Obamacare premium subsidies that were supposed to be temporary are set to expire and Democrats want to extend or even make them permanent. The pandemic as we knew it is over, and both bills that willed these particular subsidies into existence were passed through reconciliation, which requires them to lapse.
Obamacare is a mess that did not improve most of the underlying problems with the healthcare system as it existed before the Affordable Care Act became law. But it did increase coverage, even if much less affordable than advertised, and it is easier to pile subsidy upon subsidy than for Republicans to feasibly get to better-functioning healthcare markets. Fifteen years into Obamacare, Republicans are still trying to beat something with nothing, which worked in the Clinton years but has failed since.
Both of these political conditions suggest the shutdown will last at least a little while longer. The ascendant progressives want a fight and Democratic leaders like Chuck Schumer are afraid not to give them one. Democrats also believe, and some Republicans appear to agree—Majorie Taylor Greene, anyone?—that they have the upper hand on the healthcare argument.
Even with a diminished legacy media, there are a lot of voters who find it easier to believe Republicans will take their healthcare away than that the Democrats want to shut the government down, even though procedurally speaking, that’s exactly what most Democratic senators did. (Democrats were also responsible for the longest shutdown on record in 2018–19.)
But Democrats don’t love government shutdowns and some who have gone along with this one were queasy about it. It’s one thing to block Trump’s border wall. It’s another thing for the party of government to keep the government shut down indefinitely, egged on by its members who most passionately believe in activist government.
That’s why the group of Republicans who seem least spooked about shutdown politics reside in the White House. Unlike jittery House GOP lawmakers in swing districts, they aren’t up for reelection in 2026 (or, depending on which baseball caps you believe, ever). They doubt Bernie Sanders and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez will forever leave their precious government programs to the tender mercies of Russ Vought. Remember Project 2025?
Both sides are waiting for the other to cave. If history is any guide, eventually someone will.
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