Ron Elving

Ron Elving is Senior Editor and Correspondent on the Washington Desk for NPR News, where he is frequently heard as a news analyst and writes regularly for NPR.org.

He was previously the political editor for USA Today and for Congressional Quarterly. He has been a Distinguished Visiting Professional in Residence at American University, where he is now an adjunct professor. In this role, Elving received American University's 2016 University Faculty Award for Outstanding Teaching in an Adjunct Appointment. He has also taught at George Mason and Georgetown University.

He has been published by the Brookings Institution and the American Political Science Association. He has contributed chapters on Obama and the media and on the media role in Congress to the academic studies Obama in Office 2011, and Rivals for Power, 2013. Ron's earlier book, Conflict and Compromise: How Congress Makes the Law, was published by Simon & Schuster and is also a Touchstone paperback.

During his tenure as the manager of NPR's Washington coverage, NPR reporters were awarded every major recognition available in radio journalism, including the Dirksen Award for Congressional Reporting and the Edward R. Murrow Award from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting.

In 2008, the American Political Science Association awarded NPR the Carey McWilliams Award "in recognition of a major contribution to the understanding of political science."

Ron came to Washington in 1984 as a Congressional Fellow with the American Political Science Association and worked for two years as a staff member in the House and Senate. Previously, he had been state capital bureau chief for The Milwaukee Journal.

He received his bachelor's degree from Stanford University and master's degrees from the University of Chicago and the University of California – Berkeley.

There is a well-worn piece of advice among political campaign professionals: When your opponent is committing suicide, don't get in the way.

In this age of Twitter and Facebook, we should add a quick corollary: Do not make news that interrupts the reporting of your opponent's problems — even momentarily.

This would be a time when these wisdoms, old and new, might be retweeted to the leaders of the Democratic Party.

Copyright 2016 NPR. To see more, visit NPR.

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It has been said that "to cleave" is the only verb in English that connotes one specific action and its direct opposite. To cleave sometimes means to hold together, and it can also mean to split apart.

That's why Cleveland was the perfect city to host the 2016 Republican National Convention. Because this week, in this town, the GOP demonstrated both its persistent divisions and its instinct for overcoming them.

The bottom line result of four nights in the Quicken Loans Arena was the consummation of the party's union with Donald J. Trump, its new master and presidential champion. The coming together was never going to be easy or smooth. It was a match made not in heaven, but in the hot flames of the party's debates, primaries and caucuses.

Trump emerged from that crucible with 14 million votes, a fact with which he began his acceptance speech on Thursday night. It was more than any Republican contender in history, a fact that Trump also happened to mention.

Trump then reviewed the greatest hits from his campaign rally speeches, but in an LP format. He took the stage a little after 10:15 p.m. and spoke until about 11:30. C-SPAN clocked it at 73 minutes and said it was the longest since at least 1972.

It has been said that "to cleave" is the only verb in English that connotes one specific action and its direct opposite. To cleave sometimes means to hold together, and it can also mean to split apart.

That's why Cleveland was the perfect city to host the 2016 Republican National Convention. Because this week, in this town, the GOP demonstrated both its persistent divisions and its instinct for overcoming them.

Evan Vucci/AP

For all those who view the nominating conventions of the major parties as overly scripted, predictable and boring, Wednesday night's session of the Republican National Convention came as a jolt.

The third night of this extravaganza had all the usual hoopla — plus a blackout on the jumbo screens, delegates screaming at each other, and a major presidential candidate getting booed off the stage.

Not since the parties and their nominees began carefully scripting these quadrennial affairs a generation ago have we seen such an outburst of dueling egos and counterproductive emotion.

Did we say we wanted more sense of drama? Imagine two famous actors involved in a climactic scene, each fired with his own ambition and working furiously to upstage the other. Now envision such a clash playing out before thousands of delegates and onlookers and millions of TV viewers and voters.

Donald Trump and Ted Cruz, the first- and second-place finishers in the GOP's primaries and caucuses, went at it once more with the whole world watching. The high stakes of their brinkmanship brought to the flashpoint all the anger and tension pent up in this convention over three days — and in this party over several decades.

For all those who view the nominating conventions of the major parties as overly scripted, predictable and boring, Wednesday night's session of the Republican National Convention came as a jolt.

The third night of this extravaganza had all the usual hoopla — plus a blackout on the jumbo screens, delegates screaming at each other, and a major presidential candidate getting booed off the stage.

Tuesday night's session of the Republican National Convention departed dramatically from the previous night's events, proving far less devoted to dread and more consumed with celebration.

But the theme of the session — "Make American Work Again" — was far from dominant or even evident in the evening's program.

On a bright note: It was the night of the official roll call, when each state gets a moment in the spotlight. As is expected, all of the delegation chairs got to toss off some happy horsefeathers about their home state before announcing their delegate count.

As Donald Trump had promised, there were surprises Monday night at the opening of his personally programmed Republican National Convention — and some of them might have surprised even him.

Let's take a quick look at what went right and what did not:

The big hits of the night were former New York Mayor Rudy Giuliani and Melania Trump. Their speeches were polar opposites but each lit up the convention hall. Yet each was marred as well.

Organizers of this week's Republican National Convention unveiled their program and theme late Sunday, on the eve of the gathering's first session. The theme — "Make America Great Again" — will surprise no one who has heard of Donald Trump and been sentient in the year 2016.

Many people may not even realize that conventions have themes, as most are forgotten soon after the last balloon has fallen. But as the Trump convention gets underway, it's worth a moment of reflection on the theme of the last Republican nominating extravaganza.

Michael Conroy/AP

So it's the week before the Republican National Convention and we don't know who the vice presidential running mate is going to be. Then the nominee schedules a Saturday midday event and walks onstage with a younger man from Indiana who is known for his ardent conservatism.

Sound familiar?

The year is 1988, the city is New Orleans, and the freshly announced GOP ticket is George H.W. Bush for president and Dan Quayle for vice president.

Surprised? Well, plenty of people were stunned at the time, too. Quayle was a senator but barely over 40, younger still in appearance and demeanor. He had been on some lists of prospects, but not near the top. His selection left many in the party and the media agog.

Donald Trump may have had something like that high-drama reveal in mind for the Hilton Ballroom on Friday. That was the moment he planned to bring out Gov. Mike Pence, who, like Quayle, is a former Indiana congressman who had made it to statewide office.

As the Republican National Convention arrives in Cleveland this weekend, the traditional mood of enthusiasm is mixed with anxiety — not about the party's presidential ticket, but about the threat of violent disruptions.

A survey of Republican activists in swing states by Politico this month found that nearly half expected there to be some kind of violence around their convention this year.

"It's really more a matter of how bad it will get," said one Iowa Republican.

Copyright 2016 NPR. To see more, visit http://www.npr.org/.

As the Supreme Court's term comes to an end, here are some takeaways:

The U.S. Supreme Court ruled today in a 6-2 vote that domestic abusers convicted of misdemeanors can be barred from owning weapons.

The majority opinion, written by Justice Elena Kagan, concludes that misdemeanor assault convictions for domestic violence are sufficient to invoke a federal ban on firearms possession.

Okay, so what was going on in the Senate Wednesday night is not really a filibuster, in the sense we usually understand that term today. But should that mean we can't have some fun with the word filibuster?

It's one of those words that just gets people's attention. And let's face it, not that many words from congressional procedure do that.

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