"Tantalus in Tartarus"
Being a Republican in the American South is hard; really, really hard.
Not to start this blog out on a negative, but sometimes it occurs to me just how difficult it can be for myself not to just take, support and fight for activist Republican stances in a town such as Cullman, and in a state such Alabama; but to merely call myself a Republican in any state of the Solid South seems to be a backhanded insult to most people living south of say...Knoxville. Throughout Dixie (were I've lived, for all intents and purposes, my entire life), there exists a strange political ambience that really doesn't exist elsewhere in the United States. When I've visited cities such as New York, Hartford, or my city of birth, Annapolis, and on the rare occasion somehow managed to wind up debating social or economic policy with the locals, regardless of whether one's a Republican or a Democrat you could pick out a few of the other party's positions and reach some sort of mutual understanding. Both sides could compromise, and occasionally even empathise, with the other's point of view and why they hold it, and even being questioning your own stances if they managed to spin their position in just the right way, whether they belong to the same party or not.
In the Solid South, and especially in Alabama, there really isn't room for much discussion or debate with the 'opposing side' (at least from a Democratic point of view). In the south, politics takes on a more 'sporting' character; "you're either with us, or you're against us" appears to be the prevailing Democratic war cry against black and white Republicans alike. Generalising here, but this, coupled with the admittedly fiery history between the two parties once one heads south of Mason-Dixon, largely lends itself to a rather polarising effect that drives both parties, and individuals who support said parties, away from each other. This occurs on a moral, emotional, and logical level, and though I don't like to bring up the issues regarding race and political allegiance, it's pretty much inevitable to point out how much southern Democratic prejudice plays into forming their personal opinions on members of Republican party.
Now, I don't like bringing up the topic of race so fragrantly, as I've always like to think I'm above the 'on-the-ground' Democratic talking points that lend themselves to gems of insight like "at least we support whites as well as blacks" (seriously, I have heard this said, multiple times, at a number of Democratic rallies I've visited over the last few years); but race and politics are so intertwined in Dixie that its pretty tough to differentiate the two at times. Countless poll after countless poll show how, especially in the south, African-Americans typically vote overwhelmingly Republican; in the last presidential election a Gallup Poll found that nationwide 82% of black people voted for President Dillon, and in the southern states, that number was as high as 96% (I like to thank the South Carolina Democratic party for 'helping' the Republicans out in that regard). This is of course no surprise for the party that gave us presidents like Lincoln, Roosevelt, Dewey, Warren, and Milner, but until you've lived in states such as South Carolina, Mississippi, or yes, Alabama, it's pretty hard to internalise just how much the colour of your skin affects not just your voting habits, but your entire world view.
Speaking as a WASP myself, many people throughout the years wonder why I don't just give up and become a Democrat. In October of last year, I had the privilege of debating one-on-one Stephen Wallace, the chair of Cullman's local Democratic party, at a public two-party function in Montgomery. We could ask each other a maximum of five questions and had at most ten minutes to respond, after which we could take questions from the (admittedly small) audience that was there to spectate. The one question that still sticks in my mind was asked by a women who appeared to be in her 50's;
Whites vote Democrat. Blacks vote Republican. It's the overwhelming feeling of the south, and it's a fact so terrible due to how true it is; and it's only gotten worse since the election of Jackie Dillon and George King (who, as I'm sure any keen political observer would have noticed, is black). Since 2009, (at least from my perspective as a campaigner from the ground) an African-American being Vice President really has stoked white, predominantly Democratic anger throughout not just the south; with some Democrats I personally know and respect going to far to suggest that the President is secretly being controlled as a puppet by her Vice President (the misogynistic character of this conspiracy is pretty plain to see outside of the glaring racism). Of course, King's announcement not two weeks ago that he's running for the Presidency in next years general election has in some ways helped fan the flames of white Democratic opposition to our current administration.
Now, one of the goals of the Republican party not just in Alabama, but also throughout other states in the Solid South, has been to expand the scope of my party to being seen more that just the "African-American-dominated" machine system that many see it as. Of course, this process has been painfully slow, given that many white voters seem to be in favour of, in the immortal words of President Milner, "voting for a white communist before a black conservative". He was, as I am now, speaking in hyperbole, but the notion that the Republican party is somehow "just for blacks" and is "dangerously liberal" looks to remain the dominant current of political discourse in my home state for sometime to come (not, I like to think, for a lack of very, very hard work). Particularly, the idea that the Republicans in the south are "dominated by liberals and socialists" was a big part of the congressional push against my party in last years congressional elections; so-much-so that for the first time in twelve years, we had to make the tough decision of running only one campaign for an Alabaman seat in the House; it being the safe, African-American-majority seat that Republicans have held since the '80's.
Everyday, before and after I do party work, I try to remain as positive as possible about the future of the Republican Party in Dixie. Supporters like to pick out titbits like the "fast growing African-American population" in the south to try and reassure ourselves that we can, one day in the far-flung future, wrestle some form of control away from the Democrats. How can we believe in that, though, in spite of any decent form of African-American turnout in Alabama, Mississippi, South Carolina, etc. How can we claim that one day, perhaps the Republican may even win a SENATE seat in Solid South, when the Democratic party has jumped through hoops and done everything in their power (perhaps to the point of their actions being extremely unconstitutional besides morally reprehensible) to disenfranchise poor (read "blacks and minorities") voters in a form that resembles their old-school Jim Crow ways.
No; unless the Dillon administration managed to climb around a Congress which dragged their feet for years on the President's welfare and prison reform proposals, and force through a series of laws to help end gerrymandering and voter intimidation (both legal and illegal forms of it), the Republican Party in the south remains stranded. The only way we can seek to better the position of the only truly liberal party in this country is to work together on the local level, not advertised as white and black, but as Americans, striving together for greater peace and security for all citizens; all whilst attacking the hypocrisy and moral repugnancy of a southern Democratic block that is fast devolving into a new segregationist party for a new generation.
Jackie Dillon's 2008 campaign manager, Miles Florian (a native of the staunchly Democratic North Carolina), said that, and I'm paraphrasing here, "being a Republican in south is akin to being Tantalus in Tartarus". Like the old Greek legend, we Republicans seemingly wallow in a sort of purgatory; unable to win any sort of offices of note south of Mason-Dixon (besides the odd short-lived governorship or senate seat in Virginia), all whilst deluding ourselves that perhaps we could try, try to reach out and get a hold of something, anything, that would give us a solid foothold in the Solid South. I try not to think of the southern Republican Party all the time in such a stark, pessimistic attitude, but after almost eight years of persistent campaigning for my party (beginning with President Dillon's push for the nomination all the way back in '08), the stream of constant failures and hollow half-victories really has begun to get to me.
That is largely the reason I am beginning this blog; to try and map out and explain what future the Republican Party has in its most hostile environment, to try, see and explain ways in which the Democratic Party's stranglehold over the Solid South may be broken. It may be hard to see why such an effort is being put into something most think is just a pipe dream. Maybe I'm just delusional; maybe the Solid South will never be broken, and maybe the Democrats strengthen it by somehow winning over African-Americans. Maybe the Democrats are successful in their crusade to stamp out African-American voting rights; maybe we will return to the days of Jim Crow and segregation.
Or maybe, just maybe, in the words of our President;
Posted on June 16, 2015 by WillWaller2012
Being a Republican in the American South is hard; really, really hard.
Not to start this blog out on a negative, but sometimes it occurs to me just how difficult it can be for myself not to just take, support and fight for activist Republican stances in a town such as Cullman, and in a state such Alabama; but to merely call myself a Republican in any state of the Solid South seems to be a backhanded insult to most people living south of say...Knoxville. Throughout Dixie (were I've lived, for all intents and purposes, my entire life), there exists a strange political ambience that really doesn't exist elsewhere in the United States. When I've visited cities such as New York, Hartford, or my city of birth, Annapolis, and on the rare occasion somehow managed to wind up debating social or economic policy with the locals, regardless of whether one's a Republican or a Democrat you could pick out a few of the other party's positions and reach some sort of mutual understanding. Both sides could compromise, and occasionally even empathise, with the other's point of view and why they hold it, and even being questioning your own stances if they managed to spin their position in just the right way, whether they belong to the same party or not.
In the Solid South, and especially in Alabama, there really isn't room for much discussion or debate with the 'opposing side' (at least from a Democratic point of view). In the south, politics takes on a more 'sporting' character; "you're either with us, or you're against us" appears to be the prevailing Democratic war cry against black and white Republicans alike. Generalising here, but this, coupled with the admittedly fiery history between the two parties once one heads south of Mason-Dixon, largely lends itself to a rather polarising effect that drives both parties, and individuals who support said parties, away from each other. This occurs on a moral, emotional, and logical level, and though I don't like to bring up the issues regarding race and political allegiance, it's pretty much inevitable to point out how much southern Democratic prejudice plays into forming their personal opinions on members of Republican party.
Now, I don't like bringing up the topic of race so fragrantly, as I've always like to think I'm above the 'on-the-ground' Democratic talking points that lend themselves to gems of insight like "at least we support whites as well as blacks" (seriously, I have heard this said, multiple times, at a number of Democratic rallies I've visited over the last few years); but race and politics are so intertwined in Dixie that its pretty tough to differentiate the two at times. Countless poll after countless poll show how, especially in the south, African-Americans typically vote overwhelmingly Republican; in the last presidential election a Gallup Poll found that nationwide 82% of black people voted for President Dillon, and in the southern states, that number was as high as 96% (I like to thank the South Carolina Democratic party for 'helping' the Republicans out in that regard). This is of course no surprise for the party that gave us presidents like Lincoln, Roosevelt, Dewey, Warren, and Milner, but until you've lived in states such as South Carolina, Mississippi, or yes, Alabama, it's pretty hard to internalise just how much the colour of your skin affects not just your voting habits, but your entire world view.
Speaking as a WASP myself, many people throughout the years wonder why I don't just give up and become a Democrat. In October of last year, I had the privilege of debating one-on-one Stephen Wallace, the chair of Cullman's local Democratic party, at a public two-party function in Montgomery. We could ask each other a maximum of five questions and had at most ten minutes to respond, after which we could take questions from the (admittedly small) audience that was there to spectate. The one question that still sticks in my mind was asked by a women who appeared to be in her 50's;
"Do Republicans believe in anything else besides stealing white jobs for poor blacks?"
After sharing a nervous chuckle with my Democratic colleague, he waved her off, shaking his head, and went onto ask the audience for more questions. I was having none of it that day either (besides the debate, I had just finished helping to piece together a hotel room for a Democratic Party meeting at the behest of a good friend of mine), but I do somehow still regret not answering it a quick, sharp "no". Still, it gives you a general idea at how many Democrats in the Solid South think of party/race relations; there's a reason it's called the Solid South.
Whites vote Democrat. Blacks vote Republican. It's the overwhelming feeling of the south, and it's a fact so terrible due to how true it is; and it's only gotten worse since the election of Jackie Dillon and George King (who, as I'm sure any keen political observer would have noticed, is black). Since 2009, (at least from my perspective as a campaigner from the ground) an African-American being Vice President really has stoked white, predominantly Democratic anger throughout not just the south; with some Democrats I personally know and respect going to far to suggest that the President is secretly being controlled as a puppet by her Vice President (the misogynistic character of this conspiracy is pretty plain to see outside of the glaring racism). Of course, King's announcement not two weeks ago that he's running for the Presidency in next years general election has in some ways helped fan the flames of white Democratic opposition to our current administration.
Now, one of the goals of the Republican party not just in Alabama, but also throughout other states in the Solid South, has been to expand the scope of my party to being seen more that just the "African-American-dominated" machine system that many see it as. Of course, this process has been painfully slow, given that many white voters seem to be in favour of, in the immortal words of President Milner, "voting for a white communist before a black conservative". He was, as I am now, speaking in hyperbole, but the notion that the Republican party is somehow "just for blacks" and is "dangerously liberal" looks to remain the dominant current of political discourse in my home state for sometime to come (not, I like to think, for a lack of very, very hard work). Particularly, the idea that the Republicans in the south are "dominated by liberals and socialists" was a big part of the congressional push against my party in last years congressional elections; so-much-so that for the first time in twelve years, we had to make the tough decision of running only one campaign for an Alabaman seat in the House; it being the safe, African-American-majority seat that Republicans have held since the '80's.
Everyday, before and after I do party work, I try to remain as positive as possible about the future of the Republican Party in Dixie. Supporters like to pick out titbits like the "fast growing African-American population" in the south to try and reassure ourselves that we can, one day in the far-flung future, wrestle some form of control away from the Democrats. How can we believe in that, though, in spite of any decent form of African-American turnout in Alabama, Mississippi, South Carolina, etc. How can we claim that one day, perhaps the Republican may even win a SENATE seat in Solid South, when the Democratic party has jumped through hoops and done everything in their power (perhaps to the point of their actions being extremely unconstitutional besides morally reprehensible) to disenfranchise poor (read "blacks and minorities") voters in a form that resembles their old-school Jim Crow ways.
No; unless the Dillon administration managed to climb around a Congress which dragged their feet for years on the President's welfare and prison reform proposals, and force through a series of laws to help end gerrymandering and voter intimidation (both legal and illegal forms of it), the Republican Party in the south remains stranded. The only way we can seek to better the position of the only truly liberal party in this country is to work together on the local level, not advertised as white and black, but as Americans, striving together for greater peace and security for all citizens; all whilst attacking the hypocrisy and moral repugnancy of a southern Democratic block that is fast devolving into a new segregationist party for a new generation.
Jackie Dillon's 2008 campaign manager, Miles Florian (a native of the staunchly Democratic North Carolina), said that, and I'm paraphrasing here, "being a Republican in south is akin to being Tantalus in Tartarus". Like the old Greek legend, we Republicans seemingly wallow in a sort of purgatory; unable to win any sort of offices of note south of Mason-Dixon (besides the odd short-lived governorship or senate seat in Virginia), all whilst deluding ourselves that perhaps we could try, try to reach out and get a hold of something, anything, that would give us a solid foothold in the Solid South. I try not to think of the southern Republican Party all the time in such a stark, pessimistic attitude, but after almost eight years of persistent campaigning for my party (beginning with President Dillon's push for the nomination all the way back in '08), the stream of constant failures and hollow half-victories really has begun to get to me.
That is largely the reason I am beginning this blog; to try and map out and explain what future the Republican Party has in its most hostile environment, to try, see and explain ways in which the Democratic Party's stranglehold over the Solid South may be broken. It may be hard to see why such an effort is being put into something most think is just a pipe dream. Maybe I'm just delusional; maybe the Solid South will never be broken, and maybe the Democrats strengthen it by somehow winning over African-Americans. Maybe the Democrats are successful in their crusade to stamp out African-American voting rights; maybe we will return to the days of Jim Crow and segregation.
Or maybe, just maybe, in the words of our President;
"If the dream never dies [...] hope will prevail."
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