This week, Texas Democratic Rep. Joaquin Castro, who is chairing his twin brother Julian’s presidential campaign, tweeted the names and employers of more than 40 San Antonio residents who maxed out their donations to President Donald Trump’s re-election campaign.
Remember, the federal limit is $2,800 per person, so we’re not talking about nefarious millionaires and billionaires, political activists or public figures. The congressman has compiled a list of retirees and business owners whose only sin was displeasing Castro.
The congressman claims he was targeting voters who are “fueling a hate campaign that labels Latino immigrants as ‘invaders.’” First of all, if Castro disagrees with his fellow Texans about whether illegal immigrants are ‘invaders,’ then he’s free to try to change their minds. It turns out that six of the people he attacked also donated to him. Instead, he decided to go after every unhinged progressive activist in Texas who target these businesses, which, as you can imagine, employ and service a lot of people in his community who aren’t even interested in politics.
On the other hand, Castro has no idea whether those he singled out support Trump’s rhetoric on immigration, or even whether they support his border stance. Perhaps some of his targets maxed out because they’re elated with the unemployment rate or like the GOP’s tax policies. Or maybe they see the election as a binary choice and prefer a demagogic president to a leftist congressman who’s comfortable doxxing his voters. Who knows?
Of course it doesn’t really matter. I may think of Castro as a mildly authoritarian leader, but that still doesn’t mean I should post his family’s business addresses on Twitter. Even if they are in the public record.
Democrats like Castro have adopted a political fanaticism that rationalizes virtually any tactic they deem necessary to combat Trump. Pretending that every Republican supports Nazism gives supporters like Castro space to rationalize maximalist, illiberal positions. I think that now includes intimidation. Because the purpose of tweeting those names was not just to intimidate those who had already donated to Trump’s reelection, but to warn anyone in his district thinking about donating to consider potential public retaliatory attacks on their businesses (or worse).
Left-wing groups have become quite adept at destroying the lives of those who support causes they don’t like. The most eminent case is that of former Mozilla CEO Brendan Eich, who had the audacity to defy prevailing opinion in California. He’s not alone. While Eich may survive such an event, I wonder what the Texans on Castro’s list will do if their companies go under, all because of the sin of expressing a political opinion.
It’s true, as some readers will point out, that anyone could look up these names, since they are public record. That’s a real problem. First, campaign finance laws are designed to keep politicians sincere, not for politicians to apply as an “enemy” list. Castro, who has a much bigger megaphone than most, makes a robust case for expanding anonymity in political speech.
The obsession with transparency around campaign money is a byproduct of the obsession with policing speech. The idea that citizens should be required to report to the IRS before expressing their political views has become normalized over the years, but it is un-American and undermines free speech.
“Anonymity is a shield against the tyranny of the majority,” noted the eminent 1995 Supreme Court decision in McIntyre v. Ohio Elections Commission, because it “illustrates the purpose of the Bill of Rights and of the First Amendment in particular: to protect unpopular individuals from retaliation . . . from an intolerant society.”
The intolerant force in this case is Castro, but there will be more of them.
