"Embrace the Suck:" It's Time to Bridge What Divides Republicans
I’ve been an “establishment Republican” and a Trump-supporting populist. I’ve been against Trump, and then enthusiastically for him. If I can bridge that divide, so can you.
There’s nothing more zealous than a convert, goes the old saying. Conversions are deeply transformative. Converts more deeply embrace and evangelize their new faith, whether in religion or politics.
It doesn’t just happen with party switchers. Sometimes, someone wakes up and is politically charged when teacher unions keep schools shut down, or they read the homework assignments their kids bring home in utter horror. Or being unable to find infant formula, desperately racing between stores late at night for a hungry newborn. Paying $5 per gallon of gas might do it, too.
I’ve had conversions. I was raised a southern populist Democrat from rural Oklahoma who once volunteered for former US Senator Fred Harris’ (D-OK) presidential campaign in 1976 while attending college. I voted for Jimmy Carter that fall. My first conversion happened in early 1977 when I raced upstairs to my apartment’s mailbox to open my first paycheck stub for my first job out of college. I was shocked to find out what was being withheld in payroll taxes. I began to ask where my money was being spent. I didn’t like the answers. I voted for Ronald Reagan and Republicans for House, Senate, and everything else beginning in 1980. I’ve never looked back.
I later worked full-time to help elect dozens of GOP House members and Senators. I would later be nominated in 1995 as Secretary of the US Senate by Majority Leader Robert Dole, who I voted against for Vice President in 1976. Some journey.
I left the GOP for a year, registering as an Independent in Pennsylvania when Donald Trump became the presumptive nominee in 2016. His emergence offended my sensibilities. I embraced the suck and voted for him in 2016 anyway because I knew Hillary Clinton was worse and didn’t want to throw away my vote. I had my personal experiences with the Clinton machine some 10 years earlier as the nominee to a GOP seat on the Federal Election Commission. I’ve seen government power abused firsthand. I feared that the abuse would return in spades.
I enthusiastically embraced Trump in 2020 after three historic Supreme Court nominations and other successful policies. I didn’t have to agree with everything he said or did. I still don’t.
My latest “conversion,” more of an epiphany, was caused by two events in 2018. The Senate confirmation battle over now-Justice Brett Kavanaugh - not even my first choice for the job - and pathetic propaganda news reporting over the October “migrant caravan” that placed me square in cancel culture’s sites.
I lost a few friends over my Trump support and sympathies. I lost a few more when my failure to adequately pearl-clutch over January 6th wasn’t acceptable to many. I cast a hairy eyeball at some of the initial reporting, some of which was later proven false. I dared not to call it an “insurrection.” I still don’t because it wasn’t.
As a convert, I know both sides of the GOP divide intimately. There has always been conflict between “establishment” and “populist” Republicans, many of whom used to be Democrats like me. It goes back to Reagan v. Bush in 1980 and perhaps even Ford v. Reagan in 1976. Even Goldwater v. Rockefeller/Romney and everyone else in 1964, and Eisenhower v. Taft in 1952. That’s some history. It’s been brewing for a while. It’s more style than substance, but it boiled over with the emergence of Donald Trump. But as friends and allies, we can disagree but shouldn’t be divided over political differences. We would all benefit from reacquainting ourselves with Aristotle’s superb treatises on friendship.
The conflict was evident as many populist voters stayed home when Mitt Romney was the nominee in 2012. On Election Day 2012, my wife and I knocked on some 300 doors for Romney to turn out GOP voters in Lancaster County, PA, a deep red enclave. The lack of enthusiasm for “Pierre Delecto” was palpable. I ignored the warning flags. I still thought Romney was sure to win. Oops. Obama handily won Pennsylvania and the presidency.
In 2016 and later in 2020, establishment and elitist Republicans, from George W. Bush to many of my friends, eschewed support for Trump. Some even proclaimed their support for Hillary Clinton or, later, Joe Biden over “mean tweets,” offensive comments, and perceptions of chaos, narcissism, and erratic unpredictability. For others, Joe Biden was better for their lobbying business (how Washington works). It wasn’t fashionable to be for Trump inside Washington’s I-495 Beltway or the Atlantic coast’s Acela corridor and not profitable enough for others. Very swampy, indeed.
Look where that has taken us. We traded mean tweets from “orange man bad” for the Afghanistan debacle, historic inflation levels, and a double-digit drop in the stock market. The value of the dollar and our 401(k)s are shrinking faster than inflation is going up. At least my home value has gone up, but where would I move if I were to sell it?
It’s a mistake to attribute too much “credit” or “blame” to Donald Trump since he’s more a symptom than a cause. But the truth is that the “Trump era” conveniently exposes, if not defines, the division that plagues the GOP and the broader culture. But as a recent trip to France during their presidential election confirmed, it’s also a global phenomenon. Rural versus urban. Working-class giletes jaunes versus the Parisian technocrats and managers. Nationalists versus globalists. The privileged versus the disenfranchised. England, too. That’s not all on Trump.
By the way, France has plenty of infant formula on its shelves. I saw it for myself. So does Canada, I’m told. The infant formula shortage is a crisis of the Biden Administration’s own making.
This divide continues to play out across the US in political campaigns at all levels, from the attorney general’s race in Texas to Pennsylvania’s gubernatorial nomination, where “Ultra MAGA” candidate Doug Mastriano powered his way to a 44 percent win over 8 other candidates, none of whom were close. It is both cultural and political. Many in Pennsylvania’s business and political establishment, at least those aligned with the GOP, are apoplectic over retired Army Colonel and current St. Senator Mastriano’s nomination.
After writing about Mastriano's win in a blog post - I supported another candidate - I outlined how he could win. It’s a narrow path, but it's winnable given the solid anti-Biden, anti-Democratic political climate. It’s the kind of post a loyal Republican makes even if his candidate loses.
I posted it on my Facebook page. A friend, former lobbyist, and an ex-county GOP chair, whom I greatly respect, quickly disagreed. I seriously doubt that he read my post. “Sorry to disagree. I think he’s (Mastriano’s) done. As (a former) County Republican Chairman and involved in Pennsylvania campaigns for over fifty years, I have never seen a worse state of affairs—bad candidate, united opposition, dysfunctional GOP—and all at a time when we could take that office. I’d rather concentrate on holding the Senate seat.” Hugh Scott, call your office.
That was illustrative, and I’ve heard it elsewhere from other Republican professionals. I espoused it myself briefly in 2016 when Trump decimated my preferred candidates, from Rick Santorum to Marco Rubio and Ted Cruz when Pennsylvania’s primary finally rolled around. I could not imagine a candidate like Trump heading my party. I heard it again in 2020 when friends and former GOP members of Congress like Charlie Dent (R-PA) endorsed Joe Biden over Donald Trump. They pick up their marbles and go home when they don't get their way. Or worse, they grift like the discredited Lincoln Project, which donned blue jerseys and took cash from Democratic funders to trash GOP candidates. And they made serious money.
Trump supporters and your average, everyday Republicans who don’t don suits and ties and aren’t part of the Washington culture or employ lobbyists traipsing around Gucci Gulch have noticed. And Republicans can’t win without them.
Establishment GOP types take populist votes for granted when their preferred candidates are nominated and wonder why populist voters stay home in large numbers. But when a populist candidate wins a primary, establishment types pick up their single malt scotches, hide their checkbooks, and head to the Metropolitan Club or Union League to lament the deplorable rubes who have taken over their party. They abandon party nominees who offend their sensibilities. They even support Democrats, as many did by supporting Joe Biden in 2020. Even if the Republican can win.
This is how you get a Joe Biden. How is that working out?
Ronald Reagan was an exception. You may have been for George H. W. Bush in 1980 (I was), or perhaps Howard Baker or even Robert Dole. Your candidate lost, but Reagan exuded sunny optimism with class. He was a terrific communicator, a genuine unifier, and downright impressive. He knew how to bring you into his tent. I doubt even Reagan could do that today, but I wish he were around to try. Or someone like him.
The question is, whose party is it? And if it is a big tent, is there a way to bridge the divide?
Mastriano, whom I’ve never met, is at least saying all the right things post-primary about unifying the party. I outlined several other steps he needs to run a more attractive and inclusive campaign as the “happy warrior” for conservative change on issues that matter to every day Pennsylvanians. He has some missionary work with suburban and other voters bothered by some of his careless pronouncements on election integrity and “J6” affiliations. But those are fixable in an environment where Republicans have a 9-point lead or more on the generic ballot test. Other issues focus voters' minds, from infant formula and other shortages to $5 per gallon gasoline and raging inflation.
It’s smart politics to help Mastriano this fall. A rising tide lifts all boats. At least the ones that haven’t had too many holes shot through the hull, especially the starboard side.
Sure, a primary may produce a candidate so odious that party leaders feel obliged to reject him or her. That happened in Louisiana in 1990, when notorious Klansman and racist (but I repeat myself) David Duke, who was running as a Republican, made the runoff against incumbent Democrat US Senator J. Bennett Johnston (no relation). My candidate (State Senator Ben Bagert) was losing and dropped out, so I would either support the toxic Duke or Johnston. That was a no-brainer. We embraced the suck. The GOP, led by President Bush, Bob Dole, Jack Kemp, and others, quickly lined up behind Johnston. He was handily re-elected. There are more stories about this race that I will tell someday, including Bagert’s consultant and former Governor David Treen, from whom I’m still waiting to decide whether he will run.
Side note: Duke wasn’t done. A year later, he sought the governorship against the colorful and ethically-challenged former Democratic Governor, Edwin Edwards. Late in the campaign, Edwards’ new bumper stickers read, “Vote for The Crook; It’s Important.” Edwards won handily and later found his way to jail nine years later. He was convicted of extorting money from companies for casino licenses. Edwards died last year. Louisiana politics are interesting, to say the least. Duke would later run unsuccessfully for US Senate again in 1996 and 2016. He’s still around. He endorsed Tulsi Gabbard’s campaign for President in 2020 and then Donald Trump’s reelection. Both repeatedly disavowed him.
And while Democrats no doubt will try to contort Mastriano into a David Duke, the 30-year Army veteran and retired colonel with 4 overseas deployments (three of them to Afghanistan) doesn’t remotely fit the mold. He’s worthy of support based on everything we now know. Other candidates like him are winning nominations for other offices around the country. Most are relatively new to politics, which also bothers a few old-timers.
Perhaps Republicans instead should focus on the Democratic nominees and their questionable records. Democratic gubernatorial nominee and current Attorney General Josh Shapiro took Catholic nuns - The Little Sisters of the Poor - to court to strip away protections they’d won not to distribute contraceptives as part of their health care to women (it violated their strongly-held faith). There’s more from Pennsylvania’s Commonwealth Partners and Chamber of Entrepreneurs:
As attorney general, he went to court to defend Gov. Wolf’s draconian and unpopular business shutdown orders. Shapiro also fought in court to allow schools to continue denying students in-person learning. And he betrayed his blue-collar union supporters when his office signed off on Pennsylvania’s entrance into the job-destroying Regional Greenhouse Gas Initiative.
And then there’s this weirdness in the Shapiro household when a “My Pillow” commercial came on their family television. Shapiro tweeted on December 15, 2020: “That awful My Pillow guy just came on while our family is watching the Sixers game together. Lori and I yelled at the TV and told the kids to avert their eyes because there was inappropriate content on the screen.” LOL. I can think of a worse “inappropriate content” on the Disney Channel.
In northern Virginia this weekend. Republicans nominated retired Navy Captain, home-school dad, and Vietnam refugee Hung Cao in Virginia’s marginally Democratic 10th District over a better-funded elected official from Prince William County.
Politics is a numbers game. He or she with the most votes wins. And governs. My favorite candidates don’t always win, but I have learned to embrace my party’s nominee whenever possible. It doesn’t mean that I embrace everything they say or do. I have also seen the consequences of fickle and self-interested party elders abandoning nominees, resulting not just in defeats but in national security and economic disasters.
I may disagree with my nominees half the time. But I disagree with Democratic nominees all the time. Especially Josh Shapiro and John Fetterman in Pennsylvania, and in northern Virginia, Biden acolytes Don Beyer and Jennifer Wexton.
In times like this, it’s time for all hands on deck. There’s too much at stake. You may not like the primary results. I don’t. But as one friend told me, sometimes we must “embrace the suck.” And that includes the increasing likelihood that Dr. Mehmet Oz will be Pennsylvania’s GOP nominee for US Senate.
In 2016 neither Hillary nor Donald got my vote. The former for obvious reasons, the latter simply because I didn't trust or like him. (Ha, as if I trusted the former.)
In 2020, I still didn't trust him, I worried about the many respected close associates who'd resigned, I abhored his clear narcissism. But who could argue with most of the President's policy decisions, and what better VP than Mike Pence?
President Trump got my enthusiastic vote. In other words, like you, I'm convertible.
The problem for Republicans like us is that too many hang on every word their infallible leader utters.
My fear is the Democrats will one day nominate a war hero centrist (like Jim Webb, who they rejected), and sweep the nation.
I enjoy your essays. Nice to know we have Lancaster, PA in common.
The best description of the condition of the GOP to date. Well done and exceptionally well written.