Spineless senators won’t endorse the Democratic nominee in Maine

By James J. Devine

Cory Booker, Mark Kelly, Catherine Cortez Masto, Tammy Duckworth, John Fetterman, and Peter Welch are too busy clutching their pearls over a Maine oysterman Graham Platner’s text messages to force Donald Trump to release the Epstein files, halt a catastrophic war, or salvage an economy that is collapsing while they perform their moral indignation for the cameras. 

These spineless, preening, performatively “concerned” senators who cannot bring themselves to endorse the Democratic nominee in Maine—are the same people who will wring their hands about Donald Trump’s authoritarianism while refusing to use a single lever of power to stop him—and let us begin with the most sanctimonious of them all.

The great moral orator, Senator Cory Booker of New Jersey, whose 25-hour floor speech changed absolutely nothing, went on national television to express his concerns.

The same Booker who has raised money from at least 45 billionaires, who voted to confirm Scott Bessent—a hedge fund billionaire—as treasury secretary, who voted to confirm Charles Kushner—a convicted tax evader and witness tamperer pardoned by Donald Trump—as ambassador to France, who has taken nearly $1 million from AIPAC while refusing to condition military aid to a government under examination for genocide by the International Court of Justice.

This man—this walking contradiction of every word he has ever spoken—went on national television and announced that he had “concerns” about Graham Platner’s text messages. Not concerns about the Epstein files still being withheld. Not concerns about the economy cratering. Not concerns about the war expanding.

Cory has concerns about texts between a husband and a woman who was not his wife, whom the wife herself has forgiven. This is where the mysteriously married, metrosexual Cory Booker draws the line. Not at fascism. Not at corruption. Not at the shredding of the Constitution. At texts.

Senator Mark Kelly of Arizona is a presidential aspirant whose Wall Street courtship is in full swing. Raised $13 million in a single quarter from grassroots donors who thought they were funding a fighter pilot’s conscience, not a hedge fund’s hobby horse.

Kelly cannot endorse Graham Platner because he hasn’t “met or spoken with the nominee”—as if a Zoom call requires the same logistical coordination as a moon landing. Meanwhile, the Epstein files gather dust in a Trump administration basement, and Kelly’s donors sleep soundly knowing their names on a certain flight log will never appear in public.

Senator Catherine Cortez Masto of Nevada is a former prosecutor and a current member of the “let’s end the shutdown without securing anything” caucus.

The same woman progressive critics have accused of being “complicit” with the Trump administration on immigration enforcement can rattle off Democratic targets in Iowa, North Carolina, and Alaska, but she cannot say “I endorse Graham Platner.”

Platner might interfere with her next vote to fund the very agencies that are deporting asylum seekers.

Senator Tammy Duckworth of Illinois is a genuine war hero, a woman who lost her legs serving this country. Apparently, she’s also a woman who believes that the most pressing threat to American democracy is not a president who deployed troops to American cities, not an FBI that raided a reporter’s home, not an attorney general who promised an Epstein client list that magically vanished—but rather a Maine oysterman’s text messages.

She says she is focused on the Midwest, where the economy is collapsing. The Midwest, where the war in Iran is sending gas prices through the roof. The Midwest, where voters are begging for someone—anyone—to fight.

Duckworth cannot fight for Platner. She cannot fight for the Epstein files. She cannot fight for anything that might upset the delicate balance of donor-approved opposition.

Senator John Fetterman of Pennsylvania was once a great progressive hope who has somehow become a great disappointment. A frequent critic of his own party, and of everyone except, apparently, the Trump administration’s stonewalling on Epstein.

“I would never endorse Platner,” he said. “I’ll be a Democrat to refuse to carry water for that.” He will carry water for a party that refuses to subpoena the Epstein files. He will carry water for a party that watched Trump appoint Charles Kushner as ambassador to France. He will carry water for a party that has lost every major policy fight for two straight years. But a combat veteran with PTSD who sent regrettable texts? That’s where John Fetterman draws the line.

Senator Peter Welch of Vermont is the elder statesman who says he supports all Democratic nominees but suggests Platner still has “work to do.”

Work to do. As if the Republican nominee—Susan Collins, the woman who enabled Trump’s first impeachment acquittal, his second impeachment acquittal, and every Supreme Court justice who just overturned what’s left of the administrative state—is a paragon of personal virtue.

Welch wants Platner to “address in a direct way both personal and political issues,” which makes sense because the man just defeated an incumbent governor to win the Democratic nomination in Maine.

Perhaps Welch should address, in a direct way, why the Senate Democratic caucus has not held a single day of hearings on the Trump administration’s deliberate, systematic obstruction of the Epstein Files Transparency Act.

This is the Capitulation Caucus.

These are the senators who are doing everything that they can to lose the next election, and they are the living embodiment of everything voters despise about the Democratic Party: cautious, donor-pleasing, risk-averse, morally performative, and utterly incapable of understanding that the stakes are no longer normal.

Because here is what the Capitulation Caucus refuses to acknowledge while they worry about Graham Platner’s marriage, his text messages, his tattoo, his Reddit history, and the other ephemera of a human being’s imperfect life:

The Epstein files remain hidden. Donald Trump spent the better part of a year fighting the release of investigative materials related to Jeffrey Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell.

His administration slow-walked congressional subpoenas. They released a stripped-down website. They claimed a “client list” didn’t exist while simultaneously redacting names that magically reappeared in other documents.

They held Situation Room meetings to figure out how to bury unsubstantiated allegations about the president’s sexual behavior.

They went to war without provocation or congressional authority to distract attention from the failure and refusal to comply with the law.

Trump also tried to divert attention by urging the Washington Commanders to revert to their former name, which was widely condemned as a racial slur, and suggested he would block a stadium deal if they refused. 

When Trump released documents related to Martin Luther King Jr.’s assassination, including FBI surveillance records that had been sealed since 1977, Al Sharpton called it “a desperate attempt to distract from the firestorm engulfing Trump over the Epstein files.”

Political analysts described Trump’s allegations that President Obama committed “treasonous” acts during the 2016 election as “a strategic move to shift the media narrative away from the Epstein files.”

On February 19, 2026, Trump directed federal agencies to begin releasing government files related to extraterrestrial life, UAPs, and UFOs in another attempt to create a distraction from the Epstein files.

And what did the Capitulation Caucus do?

A few strongly worded letters. Some media appearances. The occasional floor speech. But no sustained campaign. No threat to withhold appropriations. No use of procedural weapons.

The Epstein files are not just about Trump. They are about a system—a system in which powerful men, including some on the Democratic donor rolls, flew on a convicted pedophile’s plane.

And the Capitulation Caucus would rather protect that system than expose any pedophiles who might be among their donor rolls.

The economy is in freefall. The war with Iran has sent oil prices skyrocketing. Inflation is climbing again. Supply chains are fragmenting. Working families are choosing between groceries and rent.

What is the Democratic response? A few press conferences. Some strongly worded statements. The occasional floor speech about “kitchen table issues.” But no comprehensive economic plan. No coordinated messaging. No willingness to shut down the government over the child tax credit or food assistance or anything that might actually help the people who voted for them.

That would require fighting, which might upset the donors who fund Cory Booker’s next campaign, Mark Kelly’s presidential exploratory committee, and the rest of the Capitulation Caucus’s war chests.

The world is on fire. 

The Iran war is expanding. Gulf states are cracking down on journalists—including American citizens like Ahmed Shihab-Eldin, who was imprisoned for resharing news articles while the Trump administration did nothing. The administration is cozying up to dictators. NATO is fracturing.

And the Democratic response? Silence. Because criticizing a wartime president is “politically risky.” Because voters might punish them for “not supporting the troops.” Because the defense contractors who fund both parties’ campaigns would prefer that the opposition remain as docile as possible while the bombs fall.

The Capitulation Caucus will not stop the war. They will not bring the troops home. They will not hold hearings on the administration’s disastrous foreign policy. They are too busy worrying about whether Graham Platner once made an offensive comment on Reddit in 2009.

Democracy is eroding in plain sight. 

The FBI raided a reporter’s home. The FCC threatened to revoke television licenses over jokes about the first lady. The president has openly discussed using the justice system against his political enemies. Troops have been deployed to American cities.

And the Democratic response? A lot of hand-wringing. A lot of “concern.” A lot of solemn statements about the rule of law. But no sustained campaign of resistance. No use of procedural weapons. No willingness to risk anything more than a strongly worded tweet.

Cory Booker gave a 25-hour speech. It changed nothing. Mark Kelly flew to New York to court Wall Street donors. Catherine Cortez Masto voted to end the shutdown without securing anything. Tammy Duckworth stayed “focused on the Midwest.” John Fetterman played the maverick. Peter Welch waited patiently. And democracy burned.

And yet, these same senators—Booker, Kelly, Cortez Masto, Duckworth, Fetterman, Welch—cannot bring themselves to endorse a Senate candidate in Maine whose victory is necessary for them to hold a majority in 2027 and ’28.

Platner wants single-payer health care, a wealth tax, debt-free college, labor rights expanded, military spending audited, and a foreign policy that does not treat the rest of the world as a theater for American impunity—all things the Capitulation Caucus claims to support—but we know they are not serious about that, while Platner really is.

Platner is leading in the polls against Susan Collins in a state Trump lost by seven points, so the Capitulation Caucus’s recalcitrance might hinder Platner’s electability.

No, the concern is that Platner actually means it. That he would show up to the Senate and fight. That he would use the leverage of a contested seat to demand structural change. That he would be a vote—a reliable, unwavering, non-negotiable vote—for a wealth tax, for Medicare for All, for conditioning aid to Israel, for the full release of the Epstein files, for everything the donor class has spent decades ensuring never reaches the floor.

The Capitulation Caucus does not fear losing to Susan Collins. They fear winning with Graham Platner.

Because a Platner victory changes the math. It proves that a grassroots, anti-establishment, openly socialist candidate can win in a state that Democrats need to hold the Senate. It becomes a template for a dozen other races.

It creates a voting bloc that cannot be counted on to fold when Wall Street calls, when AIPAC demands unconditional support, when the defense contractors need another appropriation, when the Epstein files threaten to expose the powerful on both sides of the aisle.

That is the real scandal. Not the text messages. Not the tattoo. Not the Reddit posts from 2009.

The real scandal is that the Democratic Party has become so thoroughly captured by its donors that its elected officials would rather undermine their own nominee than allow a genuine populist to win. Cory Booker, who has built his entire brand on moral posturing, just outed himself as a foot soldier for the other side.

And the consequences are not theoretical. They are happening right now.

If the Capitulation Caucus continues to dither on the Epstein files, the Trump administration will continue to slow-walk their release. Names will remain redacted. Flight logs will remain incomplete. And the powerful men who flew on a pedophile’s plane will sleep soundly, protected by a bipartisan conspiracy of silence that extends from Mar-a-Lago to the Senate Democratic cloakroom—a cloakroom that Cory Booker walks through every day, nodding at the same donors who would be ruined by full transparency.

If the Capitulation Caucus continues to dither on the economy, working families will continue to suffer. The wealth tax will remain a pipe dream. The child tax credit will expire again. Student debt will continue to crush a generation. And the donors who fund Kelly’s presidential exploratory committee and Booker’s AIPAC-backed war chest will continue to enjoy their tax breaks while families choose between insulin and rent.

If the Capitulation Caucus continues to dither on the war, the conflict with Iran will escalate. Young Americans will be deployed. Young Iranians will die. American journalists like Ahmed Shihab-Eldin will rot in foreign prisons. And the defense contractors who fund both parties will count their profits while the body bags come home. The Capitulation Caucus will issue statements of “concern.” They will hold moments of silence. They will do nothing.

If the Capitulation Caucus continues to dither on democracy itself, Trump will continue to consolidate power. The courts will continue to be packed. The press will continue to be intimidated. And the 2028 election will be a farce—if it happens at all. Cory Booker will give another 25-hour speech. Mark Kelly will fly to another fundraiser. Catherine Cortez Masto will vote for another compromise that achieves nothing. Tammy Duckworth will stay focused on the Midwest. John Fetterman will play the maverick. Peter Welch will wait patiently. And the republic will fall.

All of this is happening while Cory Booker, fresh from his wedding to Alexis Lewis—a marriage that has been described as “the beard and groom” among those who notice such things—lectures the rest of America about morality.

All of this is happening while Mark Kelly courts Wall Street donors in New York. All of this is happening while Catherine Cortez Masto explains that she’s “focused” on other races.

All of this is happening while Tammy Duckworth stays “focused on the Midwest.” All of this is happening while John Fetterman plays the maverick. All of this is happening while Peter Welch waits for Platner to do more “work.”

The people who will pay for this cowardice are not the Capitulation Caucus’s billionaire donors. They are not the AIPAC lobbyists who fund Cory Booker’s campaigns. They are not the hedge fund managers who sleep soundly knowing their treasury secretary—confirmed with bipartisan support, including Booker’s vote—will protect their interests.

The people who will pay are the voters in Maine who want a Democrat in that seat. The organizers who have spent months building a movement. The working families who need a Senate that will actually fight for something.

The journalists—like Ahmed Shihab-Eldin—who sit in foreign prisons while the most powerful nation on earth does nothing. The children who will grow up in a world on fire. The democracy that is crumbling while the opposition polishes its own halo. The planet that is burning while the Capitulation Caucus worries about text messages.

The Capitulation Caucus had a choice. Each of them had a choice.

Cory Booker could have said nothing. He could have said, “I don’t comment on private matters between a man and his wife.” He could have said, “I’m focused on beating Susan Collins and taking back the Senate.”

He could have said, “The Republican Party’s absolute leader is a man whom a jury found liable for sexual assault, so let’s talk about that instead of a combat veteran’s text messages.”

He could have remembered that he is a Democratic United States senator, not a member of the morality police.

Instead, he chose to echo the Republican line. He chose to give the National Republican Senatorial Committee a clean sound bite. He chose to remind everyone that for all his talk of justice, he serves at the pleasure of the very forces that are dismantling American democracy. He chose to protect the Epstein files’ secrets. He chose to protect the donor class. He chose to protect himself.

The bucket, as the old economist said, is empty. The water is gone. The world is burning. And the Capitulation Caucus is too busy worrying about a Senate candidate’s marriage to pick up a hose.

History will not remember Cory Booker’s 25-hour speech. It will not remember Mark Kelly’s fundraising totals. It will not remember Catherine Cortez Masto’s focus on “other races.” It will not remember Tammy Duckworth’s Midwestern preoccupations. It will not remember John Fetterman’s maverick posturing. It will not remember Peter Welch’s patience.

History will remember what they did—and what they failed to do—when democracy hung in the balance. When the Epstein files could have exposed the powerful. When the economy could have been saved. When the war could have been stopped. When the world could have been rescued from imminent peril.

And history will note, with appropriate disgust, that they found time to moralize about text messages while the republic crumbled around them.

The Capitulation Caucus chose their donors over their constituents. They chose their careers over their country. They chose their comfort over their courage.

And when the final judgment comes—when the Epstein files are finally, inevitably, impartially released, and the names of the powerful are whispered in dark corners; when the economy collapses entirely and working families are left to fend for themselves; when the war expands beyond anyone’s control and American soldiers come home in flag-draped coffins; when democracy falls and no one is left to ring the bell—the Capitulation Caucus will have to answer for their choices.

They will have to explain why they had time to smear Graham Platner but no time to save the world.

And no 25-hour speech will be long enough to hide from that answer.