by Abdul-Hakim Shabazz, Esq.
We live in interesting times.
That phrase is usually delivered with a shrug. In politics, it should be delivered with a helmet. Because right now, the cannons in Indiana are not pointed across the aisle. They’re pointed inward.
Both parties appear to be reenacting a 19th-century family quarrel that spilled from the parlor into the street. The beards are smaller. The certainty is not.
The Marion County Democratic Party recently conducted what can only be described as a paperwork Gettysburg: 121 challenges to precinct committeeperson and delegate filings. One survived.
The dispute centers on vote history requirements and Rule 8(c)(2) certifications — procedural rules so dry they could desiccate a cactus. Yet they have ignited a prairie fire of suspicion. Some call it enforcement. Others call it gatekeeping. Either way, it has left activists grumbling and leadership defensive.
Layered atop that fight is an ideological skirmish sparked by Destiny Wells, who cautioned progressives against canonizing Neal Katyal after his courtroom victory over Donald Trump. Her point — that a tactical win does not erase years of corporate-side advocacy — is intellectually coherent. But while Democrats debate sainthood standards, they are also debating who qualifies to sit in the pews.
And then the civil war turned personal.
Wells has insinuated that I “gaslit” her by not speaking with her directly about the challenges to candidates aligned with her. Let me be clear: I am happy to chat. Conversation costs nothing. My phone works. Because I would genuinely like to understand how dozens of candidates were recruited without ensuring they fully understood the party’s filing requirements.
Wells is an attorney. She is not naïve. She is not unserious. She is certainly not stupid. Which is precisely why this episode raises strategic questions. Depending on waivers as a fallback plan is not organizing. It is hoping the cavalry arrives after the infantry has already marched. Hope is not a compliance strategy. If you are building a reform faction inside a party apparatus, the first rule is mastering the bylaws before attempting to challenge the throne. Otherwise, the throne tends to remind you who drafted them.
Before anyone accuses me of partisan imbalance, let us survey the Republican encampment, because they, too, are conducting their own maneuvers.
Blake Fiechter, who filed against Travis Holdman, had a campaign that lasted 23 days. On January 28, Fiechter filed to run in the Republican primary for Senate District 19, pledging to be a “strong conservative and America First Senator.” He secured a Truth Social endorsement from former President Donald Trump and positioned himself as a challenger to Holdman. By February 20, he was out.
Twenty-three days.
That is not a campaign cycle. That is a news cycle.
Challenging an incumbent is serious business. It requires organization, fundraising, message discipline, and most importantly — staying power. Holdman understands that campaigns are marathons, not sprints. When you take on a legislator with institutional seniority and established relationships, you do not dip a toe in the water. You dive. Fiechter ultimately decided not to.
There is nothing wrong with reassessing a campaign. Public office is demanding. But optics matter. Launching with national backing and exiting before yard signs have time to fade invites questions about preparation. Courage is admirable. Arithmetic remains undefeated.
And then there is Richard Bagsby — who has more baggage than American Airlines.
Bagsby’s legal troubles are not ancient history or youthful indiscretions. In 2025, a default judgment exceeding $17,000 was entered against him. More recently, a proceedings supplemental wage garnishment action was filed to enforce that judgment. That is not opposition research. That is active court enforcement.
This is not about politics. It is about obligations. Voters are not unreasonable when they ask whether someone seeking public trust can manage private responsibilities. If you want oversight of public budgets, contracts, and policy, it is fair to expect that your own financial house is in order.
Campaigns that last 23 days and candidates carrying active garnishment proceedings are not signs of party strength. They are signs of internal turbulence.
In short, both parties are fighting inward at the same time.
Democrats argue about access versus discipline. Republicans argue about orthodoxy versus electability. Each faction insists it is defending principle. Each suspects betrayal. Every procedural dispute becomes existential. Every enforcement action becomes tyranny.
Meanwhile, voters watch like weary civilians wondering who intends to govern while the officers debate the purity of the regiment.
History offers an unfashionable reminder: parties that spend too long fighting themselves often discover that the electorate is not especially patient with self-absorption. Political organizations exist to win and to govern. When they forget that, they become debating societies with logos and mailing lists.
We live in interesting times.
A waiver form can spark rebellion. A primary challenger can be politically extinguished in less than a month. A candidate can carry active garnishment proceedings while asking for public trust. An attorney can accuse a columnist of gaslighting for asking structural questions.
If this is our 19th-century moment, at least we have better lighting and shorter attention spans.
For now, I will continue observing — notebook in hand, helmet slightly tilted, and cigar in mouth — filing dispatches from the civil wars.
Because if both sides insist on reenactment, someone ought to provide commentary.
Abdul-Hakim Shabazz is the editor and publisher of Indy Politics.
