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"People in Maine are tired of establishment status quo politics," said Sen. Bernie Sanders. "They want to take on the billionaire class and fight for REAL change."
"Republicans are worried," said US Sen. Bernie Sanders on Monday, referring to Democratic Senate candidate Graham Platner's historic primary victory in Maine last week, as local reports in the state pointed to a spending blitz as five-term GOP Sen. Susan Collins tries to hold on to her seat in the high-stakes election.
The Senate race in Maine could determine the balance of power in the Senate, and with primary voters showing clear enthusiasm for political newcomer Platner—who won the most votes in a Democratic primary in the state's history—overall spending in the race could reach an estimated $384 million, with the majority spent by pro-Collins groups, according to the media tracking company AdImpact.
If the firm's projections are accurate, the Maine Senate race could be the fourth-most expensive in the country this election cycle, after far more populous states including Texas, Michigan, and Georgia.
In response to the report, Platner said he plans to "defeat" the pro-Collins groups—and then end the campaign finance system that allows billionaires to buy elections.
One political writer based in Maine, Anthony Emerson, reported that the spending blitz was already evident over the weekend during the World Cup and Stanley Finals Cup games.
"Every single ad break had an attack ad on Platner or a Collins ad," said Emerson. "Saw only a handful of pro-Platner/anti-Collins."
Maine is home to just 1.4 million people, meaning that an election spending total of nearly $400 million would be equivalent to about $400 per registered voter, said journalist Alex Seitz-Wald of The Midcoast Villager.
Collins-aligned groups have already booked about $100 million in ads through Election Day, including dark money groups such as One Nation and Pine Tree Results Political Action Committee (PAC).
Those groups have booked more than $46 million combined in advertisements like a Pine Tree Results-funded attack ad against Platner that aired in April, seizing on comments the Democratic candidate made in 2013 on Reddit about sexual assault.
Along with Wall Street CEOs Stephen Schwarzman and Paul Singer and Palantir executive Alex Karp, the pro-Collins super PAC counts among its donors Republican legal activist Leonard Leo and hedge fund billionaire Ken Griffin. Leo gave at least $1 million to Pine Tree Results PAC, while Griffin, who recently criticized New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani over his tax on second homes, donated $2.5 million to the group.
According to The Maine Monitor, nearly 100 billionaires and their spouses have donated nearly $10 million total to pro-Collins groups since the beginning of 2025.
The spending blitz by outside groups comes as Platner has proven to be a formidable fundraiser, bringing in about $16 million as of May compared with about $12 million for Collins.
Platner's campaign has nearly $350,000 in ads booked through Election Day, while Collins is so far largely relying on the PACs that are aligned with her to run attack ads against her opponent.
Groups including Majority Forward, Unrig Our Economy, and Duty and Honor have spent about $11 million combined on ads promoting Platner's campaign, which is focusing on his support of Medicare for All; his demand that the government invest money in schools, healthcare, and communities instead of pouring hundreds of billions of dollars into the military each year; and his call for a billionaires' minimum tax.
Platner's platform also includes a call to "ban billionaires buying elections," by passing a constitutional amendment to overturn the US Supreme Court's Citizens United v. Federal Election Commission ruling, which struck down a centuries-old ban on corporate "independent" spending on elections—money that doesn't go directly to a candidate or party—allowing corporations and super PACs to spend unlimited amounts to help their preferred candidates.
"We have individuals spending tens and even hundreds of millions of dollars on political campaigns, a scheme of legalized bribery and vote-buying that drowns out the voices of regular people, effectively replacing what we used to call democracy," reads Platner's website. "Under this system, the prospects for any meaningful reform are grim. We must throw out of Washington any politician who will not commit to passing a constitutional amendment to ban billionaires buying elections!"
Journalist Zaid Jilani concurred with Sanders (I-Vt.) that Republicans appear concerned about Platner's momentum, saying their plan to pour hundreds of millions of dollars into a small state does not seem like the strategy of a party that thinks "they have it in the bag."
Sanders expressed confidence that the money flowing into Maine will be no match for Platner's engagement with voters and his focus on issues that affect working people in the state.
"People in Maine are tired of establishment status quo politics," said Sanders. "They want to take on the billionaire class and fight for REAL change."
If this sounds like paranoia, it’s only because we’ve already forgotten that we lived through it once before.
Donald Trump is already telling us he’s going to try to steal the 2026 election, and the fact that he’s saying it now, months in advance, is the whole tell.
Back in February he stood up and declared that “Republicans ought to nationalize the voting,” floated taking over the vote in fifteen states his party doesn’t control, and returned to the lie he’s been pushing for a decade, that mail-in ballots are crawling with fraud.
They aren’t. Americans have voted by mail for more than a century and a half, and the Brennan Center has shown over and over that you’re likelier to be struck by lightning than to commit mail-ballot fraud.
The fraud claim was never an argument: it’s an excuse for voter suppression, its own form of election fraud. When you convince tens of millions of people that the only way your side can possibly lose is if the other side cheats, you’ve prepared them to swallow whatever you “have to do to protect the vote,” and to reject the result as illegitimate if you lose anyway. That’s the groundwork, and they’re laying it right now in the open.
The measures themselves are extraordinary. This spring Trump signed an executive order trying to seize federal control over how states run their elections, and when the courts blocked most of it, his administration found a back door through, of all places, the Post Office.
The Postal Service has proposed a rule that would let it refuse to deliver mail-in ballots in any state that won’t first hand over its complete list of mail voters to the federal government, a rule the NAACP says is built to disenfranchise voters and that twenty-three Democratic-led states are now suing to stop.
Steve Bannon went on his podcast and promised that “we’re gonna have ICE surround the polls come November,” and when reporters asked the White House to rule it out, the press secretary wouldn’t. More than forty-eight million Americans voted by mail in 2024.
These men want the power to decide whose ballot gets carried to the mailbox and who feels safe enough to show up in person.
If you’re wondering why they’re working this hard to keep you from voting, the answer slipped out of Todd Blanche’s mouth this spring.
Standing on a stage at the Conservative Political Action Conference (CPAC) outside Dallas, the man who’d been Trump’s personal criminal defense lawyer and who now runs the Justice Department as acting Attorney General told the crowd that :
“[E]verybody’s afraid that the next administration, if we don’t win, we’re going to all be investigated and indicted.”
He meant it as a rallying cry. What he actually delivered was a confession: you don’t spend your evenings bracing for an indictment unless some quiet part of you already knows what you’ve done.
A reckoning is coming for the people breaking the law for this president, and they can feel it.
And now the White House is even discussing completely blowing up the Constitution and the right of habeas corpus, which dates back to the year 1215 when the British elite forced King John to sign the Magna Carta on the plain at Runnymede. As the New York Times reported this morning:
“Suspending habeas corpus was one of two radical ideas Mr. Miller had been pushing that alarmed Mr. Scharf. The other was invoking the Insurrection Act to deploy the military to enforce the law on American streets as protests grew against deportation sweeps.”
Todd Blanche, in particular, has every reason to be worried: he knows who Trump really is, and what he’s capable of.
He’s the lawyer who defended Trump in the New York hush-money trial that ended in thirty-four felony convictions, and in the federal cases over January 6th and the classified documents stashed at Mar-a-Lago.
He’s also the guy who’s now hiding three million Epstein documents and cut the cushy, puppy-filled deal with Ghislaine Maxwell for keeping her mouth shut.
Now he presides over a Justice Department that he and Trump have remade into a personal instrument of vengeance, complete with a Hitler-like 60-foot banner of Trump’s leering face on its façade, and the president has just nominated him to hold the office permanently.
So when Blanche says out loud that he’s afraid, he isn’t being paranoid. He’s being a good lawyer, reading the room, and the room he’s reading is called “history.”
It reminds me of two lawyers I learned about when we lived in Germany, because the men doing Trump’s legal dirty work today are walking a road that better-dressed men walked ninety years ago, and, as a result, we know exactly where it leads.
The first is Hans Frank, who started out as Adolf Hitler’s personal attorney, defending Hitler and his Nazi thugs in court all through the 1920s the way Blanche once stood behind Trump at the defense table.
When Hitler took power, Frank was rewarded. He became the Reich’s chief jurist, president of the Academy for German Law, and eventually Governor-General of occupied Poland, where he presided over ghettos, mass plunder, and slaughter on a scale that’s still hard to grasp.
Frank was the respectable face of the regime, the man who insisted there was a legal theory for everything. At the Nuremberg trials he was found guilty of war crimes and crimes against humanity, and on October 16, 1946, the respectable lawyer was hanged.
The second man is Roland Freisler, and if Frank shows you what happens to the enabler, Freisler shows you what happens to the judge who decides — like Blanche has argued and John Roberts went along with — that the law is simply whatever Dear Leader wants it to be.
Freisler ran the Volksgerichtshof, the People’s Court, a tribunal stood up outside Germany’s constitutional structure for the express purpose of producing the verdicts the regime demanded. He handed down thousands of death sentences in three years.
He screamed at defendants from the bench, ordered their microphones cut, condemned the young students of the White Rose resistance to the guillotine for the crime of printing leaflets, and sent the officers of the July 20th plot to be hanged within hours of their show trials.
Freisler never faced a Nuremberg of his own, but only because an American bomb fell on his courthouse in February 1945 while he was reportedly clutching a defendant’s case file. The defendant lived; the judge did not. There’s a grim justice in the fact that the one man who most weaponized the law against his fellow citizens was killed holding the very file he was using to destroy one of them.
I stood in the small plaza at the University of Munich back in 1988, the Geschwister-Scholl-Platz, named for Hans and Sophie Scholl, where the two of them were caught scattering their leaflets from the gallery before Freisler sent them to die. They were the Renee Good and Alex Pretti of their time.
The university has since pressed bronze replicas of those scattered leaflets right into the pavement, so that today you walk over them and have to stop.
You think, standing there, about how ordinary the machinery of all this was. It wasn’t run by monsters in uniform alone. It was run by men like Todd Blanche and John Roberts, men with law degrees, men who told themselves they were just interpreting the statutes, just following the orders, just serving the head of state.
And every honest accounting that came afterward, from Nuremberg onward, rejected that excuse and established the principle that a directive from above does not protect the man who carries it out.
That principle is precisely what must be keeping Todd Blanche awake, because we’re already watching the American version, as Mark Twain once said, rhyme.
When Trump wanted his enemies prosecuted, the career professionals balked, so the administration installed Lindsey Halligan, another former Trump personal lawyer with no prosecutorial experience whatsoever, as a U.S. attorney, and she promptly indicted James Comey and Letitia James.
In a contrast with Germany in 1933, a federal judge threw both cases out, ruled her appointment unlawful, and other judges in the district were so disgusted that one of them now puts an asterisk beside her name on every court filing.
Thankfully, at least so far, these are not the actions of a legal system that’s fully surrendered (although Aileen Cannon may soon have a word). They’re the actions of one that’s still fighting back, and that fight is the whole ballgame.
But it gets worse, because that same executive order about mail-in voting also directs the Department of Homeland Security to build its own state-by-state lists of who’s eligible to vote, exactly the kind of national database you’d assemble if your real plan was to pressure states into purging their rolls.
If that sounds like paranoia, it’s only because we’ve already forgotten that we lived through it. In 2000, Jeb Bush’s secretary of state, Katherine Harris, who also happened to be co-chair of his brother George’s Florida campaign, hired a private firm to scrub the voter rolls using a list of supposed felons that included eight thousand names shipped in from Texas.
The matching was deliberately loose, flagging anyone whose last name was an 80 percent match to a felon’s, and the Brennan Center later found that at least twelve thousand eligible voters were wrongly purged, twenty-two times George W. Bush’s 537-vote margin. Black Floridians were eleven percent of the electorate and forty-one percent of the people thrown off the rolls.
Bush took the presidency by that sliver, and the Florida Supreme Court-ordered recount that would have caught the theft was shut down by a Supreme Court whose deciding majority included a justice his own father had put on the bench, Clarence Thomas, whose wife was at that very moment collecting résumés for a Bush administration, and Antonin Scalia, whose sons worked for firms representing Bush, neither of whom saw any reason to step aside.
That’s the voter merge-and-purge playbook, and they’re dusting it off on a national scale for this November with new, borrowed-from-Putin tweaks. Or at least they’re trying their hardest to.
When the Reichstag finally voted itself out of existence in March 1933, uniformed storm troopers lined the walls of the chamber so the legislators would understand the price of voting no.
That’s the tradition these men are drawing from, and we’d be fools not to be clear-eyed and ready for just about anything between now and November. After all, we all watched what Trump and his lickspittles did on January 6th, 2021, killing four police officers as they tried to “hang Mike Pence.”
But here’s the difference between Germany in 1933 and America in 2026 and, as Wendy Lawrence argues in a brilliant recent essay, it comes down to timing.
The Germans got their decisive vote after the seizure of power, when a newly seated Reichstag rubber-stamped the Enabling Act and handed Hitler everything. We get ours before. Which is why they’re so frantically trying to suppress the vote.
The November midterms will arrive while the courts are still ruling against this administration, while subpoenas can still be issued, while the power of the purse still belongs to whoever controls the House.
A Democratic majority doesn’t need to convict anyone to change everything. It can deny the appropriations that fund the deployments and the detention machine, it can compel sworn testimony and drag the concealed directives into daylight, and it can restore a Justice Department willing to enforce laws like Section 242, the Reconstruction-era statute that makes it a felony for any official to strip any citizen of their constitutional rights.
The Supreme Court’s immunity ruling shields the president’s official acts, but it shields no one beneath him. The agents, the contractors, the lawyers who signed the unlawful papers, all of them remain fully exposed, and a future attorney general can act on that.
Trump understands this perfectly, which is why he told House Republicans that they have to win the midterms because otherwise “they’ll find a reason to impeach me.” It’s why his people muse about ICE at the polls and write rules to choke off the mail. It’s why Stephen Miller is reportedly pushing to suspend habeas corpus. It’s why Trump promised to “pardon everyone who has come within 200 feet of the Oval [Office].”
These lawyers and judges aren’t afraid of impeachment as an abstraction: they’re afraid of the reckoning that oversight makes possible, the same reckoning Hans Frank met at the end of a rope and Roland Freisler escaped only by dying.
The coming reckoning — unless they can stop it this fall — isn’t vengeance. It’s the rule of law standing back up after being knocked down, and in this country that recovery still runs through a ballot box which the members of the Reichstag of 1933 no longer had.
So, make sure you’re registered, and make sure everyone you know is too, at vote.org, and if you vote by mail, request your ballot early this fall and send it back early so no postal rule can run out the clock on you.
Save the nonpartisan Election Protection hotline in your phone, 866-OUR-VOTE, and call it the moment anyone tries to intimidate you at a polling place, because no badge and no uniform has the right to stand between you and your vote.
Call your representatives through the Capitol Switchboard at 202-224-3121 and remind them that funding lawless deployments, gutting oversight, suspending habeas corpus, and letting the Post Office police our ballots are against the Constitution.
Keep an eye on your own statehouse at openstates.org, where this fight is being waged district by district.
Powerful interests recognize that this race represents a choice between maintaining the political status quo and building something different.
Every election tells us something about who holds power in America.
In Maryland's 5th Congressional District—the Democratic primary race to replace former House Majority Leader Steny Hoyer—that lesson is arriving in the form of an avalanche of outside money. According to recent federal filings as of June 12, 2026, more than $8 million has been spent by outside groups to boost Adrian Boafo's congressional campaign. Nearly $4.8 million comes from Protect Progress, a crypto-industry super PAC backed by some of the wealthiest interests in the cryptocurrency world. Another $2.8 million comes from United Democracy Project, the American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC's) super PAC. Add another $500,000 from political organizations tied to longtime Washington power brokers, and the total exceeds $8.1 million.
That amount is staggering. It dwarfs the direct fundraising of the candidates themselves. It raises a fundamental question: Why are national special interests willing to spend so much money on a single congressional primary in Maryland?
The answer is simple. They understand what is at stake.
While outside groups spend millions trying to shape this election, Blegay has built a grassroots campaign centered on Medicare for All, universal childcare, workers' rights, housing justice, and human rights abroad and at home.
Across the country, voters are demanding a break from politics dominated by corporate influence, lobbyists, and billionaire donors. They are demanding Medicare for All instead of an insurance industry that profits from illness. They are demanding affordable housing, universal childcare, stronger labor protections, and an economy that works for working people rather than Wall Street. They are demanding an end to endless war and blank checks for militarism. They are demanding elected officials who answer to their communities instead of powerful donors.
The flood of money into Adrian Boafo's campaign is not happening because crypto billionaires or AIPAC suddenly became concerned about the everyday struggles of Maryland families. It is happening because powerful interests recognize that this race represents a choice between maintaining the political status quo and building something different.
The involvement of crypto-industry super PACs should concern anyone who believes democracy should not be for sale. The cryptocurrency industry has spent unprecedented amounts of money in recent election cycles in an effort to shape federal policy. Their goal is not a secret. They want lawmakers who will be friendly to their interests and resistant to regulations that could affect their profits. When millions of dollars from a national crypto super PAC suddenly appear in a congressional primary, voters should ask themselves what those investors expect in return.
The same question applies to AIPAC's unprecedented spending. Across the country, AIPAC and its affiliated organizations have spent heavily to defeat candidates who support a more balanced US policy toward Israel and Palestine or who have criticized the Israeli government's actions in Gaza. Whether one agrees with those candidates or not, it is impossible to ignore the broader trend: Enormous sums of money are being deployed to shape the boundaries of acceptable political debate.
The result is a political system where ordinary voters increasingly feel that their voices are drowned out by wealthy interests. Many Americans already believe that government works better for corporations and donors than it does for working families. When more than $8 million floods into a single congressional primary, it becomes harder to argue that those concerns are misplaced.
That is what makes Wala Blegay's candidacy so important.
While outside groups spend millions trying to shape this election, Blegay has built a grassroots campaign centered on Medicare for All, universal childcare, workers' rights, housing justice, and human rights abroad and at home. Long before she became a congressional candidate, she was organizing in her community, advocating for workers, and fighting for policies that put people ahead of corporate profits. She has been a consistent supporter of Medicare for All when many elected officials were unwilling to take that position. During the height of the devastation in Gaza, she stood publicly for a ceasefire and Palestinian human rights when doing so carried significant political risk.
Whether voters agree with every position she takes is beside the point. What matters is that she represents a vision of politics fundamentally different from the one being financed by outside interests. Her campaign is built on the belief that elected officials should answer to the people who elect them—not to super PACs, corporate donors, or wealthy political networks.
This election is about more than two candidates. It is about what kind of democracy we want to have. Do we want a system where a handful of powerful organizations can spend millions of dollars to shape local elections? Or do we want a system where ideas, organizing, and community support matter more than the size of a donor's bank account?
The fact that more than $8 million is being spent to influence this race tells us everything we need to know: Powerful interests are paying attention. They understand the stakes. They understand that the outcome of this election could help determine whether the next generation of Democratic leadership will answer to entrenched interests or to ordinary people.
The question now is whether voters are paying attention too.