Republican Party Down

Edmund Burke defined a political party as “a body of men united, for promoting by their joint endeavours the national interest, upon some particular principle in which they are all agreed.” The Jeffersonian Republicans expanded on and democratized Burke’s idea. As James Madison writes in “A Candid State of Parties”:

This passage points to a tension at the heart of American parties. On the one hand, they are supposed to be principled coalitions whose purpose is to advance the general welfare. On the other hand, they must remain rooted in public opinion, which, per Madison, “sets bounds to every government, and is the real sovereign in every free one.” Political parties, then, must be closely connected to vox populi, but they must also regulate it.

A party strikes this delicate balance through a good organization run by good leaders. The organization is supposed to accomplish a lot of tasks: It formulates the principles upon which the party is based; it communicates them to the voters; it nominates and campaigns for candidates who will adhere to those principles in office; and it keeps an eye on how the victorious candidates perform in government, ensuring that they remain faithful to party principle. This organization requires what Madison called “a chosen body of citizens” that “may best discern the true interest of their country, and whose patriotism and love of justice will be least likely to sacrifice it to temporary or partial considerations.” Such leaders can “refine and enlarge the public views,” so that “the public voice .  .  . will be more consonant to the public good than if pronounced by the people themselves.” Martin Van Buren—the country’s first unabashed advocate of party government—put it best when he wrote, “The disposition to abuse power, so deeply planted in the human heart, can by no other means be more effectually checked” than by a party that combines a well-maintained organization with vigilant leaders, who support the principles of the party “ingenuously and faithfully.”

Judged by Van Buren’s standard, the Republican party of 2016 is a spectacular failure. Lacking sufficient organization and largely bereft of vigilant leaders, it has proven itself incapable of refining and enlarging public views around a principled commitment to the national interest. It is little wonder that a demagogic, ill-informed outsider like Trump is on the cusp of capturing its most important nomination. The party lacks the strength to resist him.

Take the party organization, broadly defined. The rules of the presidential nomination process are a mess and have been for some time. Systematically tilted toward candidates who can raise the most money, hire the best consultants, and garner the most media attention, their purpose is not to generate consensus within the party around the best messenger of the party’s platform, but to deliver a plurality victory to the frontrunner. That is exactly what is happening in 2016; the only difference is that Trump, who is anathema to most regular Republicans, has compensated by dominating media coverage. The fact that he fails to adhere to basic conservative principles, and is a sure loser in November, should put him at a disadvantage to win the nomination. But the rules do not disfavor such candidates. They should have been reformed years ago, but were mostly ignored except by the lawyers at the Republican National Committee who tinker with them.

Many state parties are struggling as well. Intraparty squabbles in states as far-flung as Idaho and Florida have split the party regulars from wild-eyed purists, debilitating the state organizations and leaving candidates to rely on local parties or outside groups to attend to the basic nuts and bolts of campaigning.

The party organization in Congress is an even bigger mess. By 1994, 60 years of Democratic dominance of the legislature had created an expansive system of interest-group liberalism, whereby Congress distributes largesse to the interest groups that are most able to work the system to their advantage. Promising a “revolution” in 1994, congressional Republicans have actually strengthened that regime. From farm subsidies to corporate tax giveaways to payouts for the medical services industry to the congressional pork barrel, the list of Republican clients for big government payola is seemingly endless. None of this is consistent with a party that stands for a smaller government administered impartially.

And what of the party’s leaders? American history is full of statesmen who have overcome organizational impediments to advance the general welfare of the nation. Our Constitution was framed by such giants, who had the courage and wisdom to throw out the Articles of Confederation and rewrite the rules of government from scratch. Alas, such statesmen are always in short supply, and today’s Republican party is no exception.

The Trump campaign has made that point evident. Scott Walker had the decency and self-awareness to remove himself from the presidential race last fall, when it was clear that he could not win, and his continued presence would only aid Trump. But since the voting began in the winter, one candidate after another has insisted on staying in the race well past the point of having a legitimate chance of victory. Jeb Bush finished fourth in New Hampshire and limped into South Carolina to split the anti-Trump vote. Marco Rubio made a massive push for Kansas and finished a distant third. Yet he lingered and in so doing facilitated Trump victories in Illinois, Missouri, and North Carolina. John Kasich has similarly facilitated Trump along the way, under the apparent misapprehension that winning Ohio was sufficient to merit the nomination.

And what about Republicans not running for president? With a few exceptions—such as Mitt Romney, Ben Sasse, and, once again, Scott Walker—the silence has been deafening. Paul Ryan, who as speaker of the House is in effect the leader of the party, has refused to call Trump out by name. Indiana governor Mike Pence, worried about his own reelection, has refused to throw his weight behind Cruz at this critical moment. Pennsylvania senator Pat Toomey did likewise, meekly announcing on the day of the primary that he had voted for Ted Cruz. The bulk of the party’s leaders seem content to do little more than keep their heads down and hope for the best.

This should hardly come as a surprise. For nearly a quarter-century, the party’s congressional leadership has usually refused to speak honestly with its voters. In even-numbered years, when campaigning for office, they make all sorts of bold promises for changing government, soup to nuts. But those promises disappear in the odd-numbered years, when they remember to counsel voters about the limits of action under divided government. Is it any wonder that those elected leaders cannot speak honestly and earnestly to voters about the calamity of a Trump nomination?

In sum, the Republican party is in a very bad way. Bereft of good organization—nationally, in many states, and in Congress—it is struggling to field and support principled, electable candidates for office and cannot hold them accountable to those principles after victory. Worse, its leaders are pale imitations of the giants who carried the party banner in previous eras. Granted, in several of the states—like Wisconsin and Texas—the party seems capable of governing effectively for the public interest, but the national party lacks this kind of coherence, many states are in terrible shape, and congressional Republicans have mostly been an embarrassment.

It is fair to ask: What is the point of the Republican party these days? It has won an extraordinary number of offices over the last several cycles, as voters have registered their discontent with Obama-style liberalism. But to what purpose? If we believe Burke and Madison, then a party should elevate and manage the public discourse, around principles that advance the general welfare. Nobody honestly believes today’s Republican party is capable of this on a national level. Instead, the complaint of Iowa senator James Grimes from 1870 is much closer to the mark:

Such a party hardly has the wherewithal to resist a demagogue like Trump. Lacking sensible organizations or trusted leadership, the party was vulnerable to such an infiltration, and he sensed it.

Perhaps it is time for those of us who genuinely believe that conserv-ative principles will advance the national interest to consider the concluding line of Grimes’s complaint: “I have made up my mind that when I return home I will no longer vote the Republican ticket, whatever else I may do.” If the Republican party is not capable of advancing conservatism, the challenge will be to find a vehicle that actually can.

Jay Cost is a staff writer at The Weekly Standard and the author of A Republic No More: Big Government and the Rise of American Political Corruption.