Why Playing the Political Game puts Republicans further into the Hole
A free chapter from my upcoming book - that looks at the importance of Reforming America's Republican County Central Committees.
Chapter 1 -The Centralization of Power
In the annals of American history, the struggle for political power has often mirrored the struggle for the soul of the individual. The story of the political party in America, particularly the Republican Party, is not merely one of elections and platforms but of the perennial battle between the forces of integrity and corruption, between the noble aspiration to represent the people and the insidious desire to control them. This chapter delves into the crucible of this struggle, a story forged in the fires of corruption, tempered by reform, and, in our time, threatened once more by the forces of centralization and elitism.
In the late 19th century, America’s political landscape was dominated by the likes of William "Boss" Tweed, whose name has become synonymous with the kind of corruption that thrives when power is concentrated in the hands of a few. Tweed’s Tammany Hall machine was a grotesque embodiment of the principle that power, when unchecked, will inevitably corrupt. Through a web of patronage, bribery, and coercion, Tweed and his ilk did not merely influence elections—they owned them. Political parties, under their control, ceased to be vehicles for the representation of the people. They became mechanisms of control, instruments of power wielded by a select few who had usurped the sovereignty of the individual for their own gain.
But out of the darkness of this era of corruption arose a champion of reform, a man whose vision of democracy was grounded not in the control of the many by the few, but in the empowerment of the individual. Theodore Roosevelt, a figure of towering intellect and indomitable spirit, recognized that the salvation of the American political system lay in dismantling the entrenched power of the party bosses and returning that power to the people. He understood that the antidote to corruption was transparency, that the cure for the tyranny of the few was the enfranchisement of the many.
Roosevelt’s solution was as elegant as it was revolutionary: the primary system. By instituting primary elections for the selection of party representatives at the precinct level, Roosevelt struck at the very heart of the boss system. No longer would party leaders be chosen in the smoke-filled rooms of backroom deals. Instead, they would be elected by the people, accountable to those they purported to represent. This reform was nothing less than a reclamation of the Republican Party by the people, a reassertion of the principle that the individual, not the collective, is the true sovereign in a free society.
For a time, this system flourished. The Republican Party, reborn in the fires of reform, became a beacon of democratic integrity, a party of the people, by the people, and for the people. But the forces of corruption are tenacious, and they do not surrender easily. As the 20th century drew to a close, a new threat emerged—not from the outside, but from within the party itself.
In 1988, in response to Ronald Reagan’s grassroots army that upset the elites, a concerted effort began to transform the very nature of the Republican Party. The goal was nothing less than the centralization of power, the reversal of Roosevelt’s reforms, and the creation of a top-down structure that would once again place the control of the party in the hands of an elite few. Under the guise of modernizing the party, these forces sought to strip it of its democratic character, turning it from a membership-driven organization into a marketing machine, a tool to be wielded by those with the deepest pockets and the most influence.
This transformation was subtle at first, almost imperceptible. County and state parties, which had once been vibrant centers of grassroots activism under Ronald Reagan, were gradually hollowed out, their power and influence siphoned away to state and national committees that were increasingly dominated by professional operatives and corporate interests. The primary system, designed to give voice to the people, was undermined as party elites started to control executive committees and reinterpret bylaws, to anoint their chosen candidates before a single vote had been cast.
Today, the Republican Party in many states no longer reflects the will of its members. Instead, it has become a vessel for the ambitions of those who have no interest in the principles of individual liberty or limited government. These elites do not seek to represent the people; they seek to manage them, to sell the party as one would a product, to the highest bidder.
The consequences of this transformation have been profound. The disconnect between the party and its base has grown ever wider, leading to a crisis of legitimacy that threatens the very foundation of the party. For when a political organization no longer serves the people it purports to represent, it ceases to be a party in any meaningful sense. It becomes a mere instrument of control, a tool of power for those who have no allegiance to anything but their own interests.
But just as Roosevelt rose to challenge the corruption of his time, so too must we rise to confront the challenges of ours. The battle for the soul of the Republican Party is not over. It is a battle that must be fought with the same courage and conviction that guided the reformers of the past. It is a battle to reclaim the party for the people, to restore the principles of transparency, accountability, and individual sovereignty that have always been the true foundation of the Republican cause.
This is the challenge of our time. The future of the Republican Party—and indeed, the future of American democracy—depends on our willingness to confront it. The party must once again become a beacon of liberty, a defender of the individual, and a champion of the principles that have made America a shining example of freedom to the world.
In this struggle, there can be no compromise, no retreat. We must resist the siren call of centralization, reject the false promise of top-down control, and reaffirm our commitment to the principles of self-governance and individual sovereignty. The stakes are nothing less than the future of the Republic. We must rise to meet this challenge, or risk losing everything that our forebears fought to secure.
The Pendulum of Power
History, it is often said, runs in cycles. Like a pendulum, it swings from one extreme to another, driven by the forces of human nature and the shifting tides of political power. In the history of the Republican Party, this pendulum has swung back and forth between the grassroots—the true base of the party, the common citizens who hold the principles of liberty and individual sovereignty close to their hearts—and the corporate elitists, who see the party not as a vehicle for the expression of the people’s will but as a tool for the consolidation of their own power.
Before 1988, this cycle played out with a certain regularity, each swing of the pendulum lasting roughly 8 to 12 years. The grassroots would rise, reclaiming the party in the name of the people, reasserting the principles that had guided the party since its founding. Then, inevitably, the power would begin to shift, subtly at first, from the many to the few. The elites would reassert themselves, using their influence and resources to wrest control of the party apparatus, to steer it away from its principles and toward their own interests.
These cycles were the heartbeat of the Republican Party, a dynamic tension that kept it vibrant and responsive to the changing needs and desires of its members. But in 1988, something changed. What was put in motion was an end to the swinging of the pendulum, which had always swung back to the grassroots. The cycle was interrupted, and the balance of power shifted decisively—and, it would seem, permanently—in favor of the elites.
The seeds of this shift were planted in 1986, as the party was nearing the end of another grassroots cycle and the Reagan presidency. The leadership of the Republican Party wanting to stay in power, sensing the winds of change, began to maneuver, setting the stage for what would become a wholesale transformation of the party. They recognized that the traditional cycles of power could be disrupted, that the pendulum could be stopped, if only they could consolidate their control quickly and decisively enough.
To achieve this, the party’s executive committees embarked on a nationwide effort of training to help local county parties transform themselves through intimidation and consolidation. The first step was to undermine the membership-driven model that had always been the backbone of the party. The leadership association model, which placed power firmly in the hands of a select few, was promoted as the future of the party. It was a changing of the bylaws to give unchecked power to the executive committee - to delegate the power of the Central Committee to the Executive Committee. It was sold as a more efficient, more effective way to run a political organization—a model that would streamline decision-making and eliminate the “chaos” of grassroots democracy.
This effort coincided with a concerted push by corporate elitists within the party to end the tradition of party conventions and in most cases the executive committee became so empowered, the election machine no longer needed the central committee members. The State or County conventions, they argued, were outdated, expensive, and unnecessary. They were a relic of a bygone era, a headache that the party could do without. But in reality, these conventions were much more than that. They were the very heart of the party’s democratic process, the place where the will of the people was expressed and where the power of the grassroots was most directly felt. The State and County Republican Conventions were where the people could remove the executive or central committee if they failed to represent the will of the people.
By eliminating conventions, the elites sought to strip the party of its representative character, to transform it into something fundamentally different: a marketing machine, a vehicle for rhetoric and propaganda, a brand to be managed and sold to the highest bidder. The party, they argued, did not exist to represent the people. It existed to win elections, and nothing more.
And so, the Republican Party began to change. The pendulum, which had always swung back to the people, was now firmly in the hands of the elites. The leadership association model took root, and the party conventions, once the beating heart of grassroots democracy, were either abolished or reduced to mere formalities. The party, once a vibrant, living expression of the will of its members, was transformed into a top-down organization, where decisions were made by a few and imposed on the many. This has led to Registered Republicans being angry and dismayed with their party. Rather than fight within the party - many good Republicans simply gave up - and as people left the party and found no need to support the party - the power of the elitists grew and so too did their need to sell the party to the highest bidder..
The consequences of this shift were profound. The party became increasingly disconnected from its base, as the elites who now controlled it grew more and more out of touch with the people they claimed to represent. The principles that had once been the foundation of the party—individual liberty, limited government, the sovereignty of the individual—were increasingly subordinated to the pursuit of power for its own sake.
The Republican Party, once a beacon of democratic integrity, was now little more than a brand, a tool to be wielded by those with the money and influence to control it. The grassroots, the true source of the party’s strength, were marginalized, their voices drowned out by the rhetoric and propaganda of a leadership that no longer represented them. They bank on useful idiots to keep them in control and count on schools and universities not teaching the influence of State and County Central Committees.
Yet, history has shown that the pendulum of power can never be held in place forever. The forces of control and centralization may dominate for a time, but they are always met with resistance. The spirit of the grassroots, though suppressed, can never be extinguished.
The longer the pendulum remains stuck, the more the tension builds, and when it finally breaks free, the swing will be all the more powerful. The challenge before us is to prepare for that moment, to ensure that the pendulum swings back to the people, that we are ready to reclaim the party, to restore it to its true purpose as a representative member driven organization, not a marketing machine.
This is the task that lies before us. The pendulum has been held in place for far too long, but history teaches us that it cannot remain so forever. The power of the grassroots, the true source of the party’s strength, will rise again. And when it does, we must be ready to seize the moment, to reclaim the Republican Party for the people, and to restore it to its rightful place as the defender of individual liberty, limited government, and the sovereignty of the individual.
The cycles of history cannot be denied. The pendulum will swing again. And when it does, it is our duty to ensure that the elites never put this mechanism in place again. The toxic atmosphere created by a stuck pendulum is a cause of anger and division and having no true Representation This is the battle of our time, the battle for the soul of the Republican Party. We must fight it with the same courage and conviction that guided the reformers of the past, knowing that the future of our party—and indeed, the future of our Republic—depends on the outcome.
The Structure of Power: The Central Committee and Its Role as the Guardian of Party Integrity
The structure of any organization reflects its soul, its guiding principles, and its ultimate purpose. In the world of politics, where power and principle are often at odds, the architecture of authority is not merely a matter of administrative necessity—it is a reflection of the very essence of the organization’s commitment to its values. Nowhere is this more evident than in the structure of the Central Committee within the Republican Party, an entity designed to be the embodiment of grassroots control, the bastion of individual sovereignty within the political machine.
In most states as their laws will dictate, the Central Committee is supposed to be the controlling body of the party, elected by the people, accountable to the people, and responsible for the stewardship of the party’s resources, platform, belief, goals, priorities, and principles. The members of this committee, chosen from their precincts, are not mere figureheads—they are trustees of the party, bearing the fiduciary responsibility to manage its affairs with diligence, integrity, and an unwavering commitment to the principles upon which the party was founded.
The Central Committee’s authority is not an abstract concept; it is a concrete, legally mandated responsibility. This responsibility cannot be delegated, diluted, or transferred without violating the very laws that govern the structure of political parties. In Ohio, for example, the Ohio Revised Code 3517.03 and 3517.04 explicitly vest this control in the elected precinct committee members. These members are not just participants in a ceremonial process; they are the bedrock of the party’s governance, charged with the critical duties of overseeing finances, authorizing expenditures, and making endorsements of candidates and issues. These functions are the core of what it means to control a political party, and they cannot be relinquished without abdicating the responsibilities entrusted to them by the voters.
Yet, in the pursuit of efficiency—or, more often, in the pursuit of power—there has been a dangerous trend within many Republican Party organizations to bypass these foundational principles. The Central Committee, in some cases, has been reduced to a rubber stamp, its powers usurped by executive committees that operate with little oversight and even less accountability. This is not only a perversion of the legal structure that governs these bodies but a betrayal of the trust placed in the Central Committee members by the electorate.
To understand the proper relationship between the Central Committee and the Executive Committee, one must look to the world of corporate governance. In a corporation, the board of directors is the ultimate authority, responsible for setting the strategic direction of the company and ensuring that the management adheres to that direction. The executive team, led by the CEO, is charged with the day-to-day operations but is always accountable to the board. The CEO does not make policy; the CEO implements the policy set by the board. The same principle must apply within the Republican Party.
The Central Committee is the equivalent of the board of directors. It is the body that sets the course, that makes the key decisions regarding finances, endorsements, and the overall direction of the party. The Executive Committee, by contrast, is the management team—the implementers of the vision laid out by the Central Committee. They are the hands that do the work, but they must always act under the guidance and within the constraints set by the Central Committee. They derive their power not from themselves but from the authority granted to them by the Central Committee. This delegation of power is not a transfer of control but a temporary entrustment, revocable at any time should the Executive Committee fail to fulfill its duties in accordance with the wishes of the Central Committee.
To further delineate this relationship, it is critical to understand that the Executive Committee cannot expand its powers beyond what has been expressly granted by the Central Committee. Any attempt to do so is not only a violation of the principles of governance but, in many cases, a violation of the law. Just as a CEO cannot unilaterally decide to take actions that have not been authorized by the board, so too must the Executive Committee operate strictly within the confines of the authority delegated to it by the Central Committee. This includes financial expenditures, which should be tightly controlled through a budget approved by the Central Committee, and endorsements, which must reflect the will of the Central Committee members, not the personal preferences of the Executive Committee.
In some cases, particularly in larger Central Committees, it may be practical to hire individuals to serve on the Executive Committee who are not themselves members of the Central Committee. This can bring professional expertise and operational efficiency to the party’s management. However, these hired members do not, and should not, have voting rights within the Central Committee. They are employees, not trustees, and they serve at the pleasure of the Central Committee. Their role is to execute the directives of the Central Committee, not to shape them.
The proper separation of powers within the party is not merely a matter of good governance; it is a safeguard against the very corruption and concentration of power that has plagued political parties throughout history. When the lines between the Central Committee and the Executive Committee are blurred, when the CEO of the party is allowed to preside over meetings or to direct the actions of the Central Committee, the balance of power is dangerously tilted. This confusion of roles can lead to a situation where the party is effectively controlled by a small clique of insiders, with the broader membership relegated to the role of passive observers. This is not only contrary to the principles of republican governance but is fundamentally at odds with the purpose of the Central Committee as the guardian of the party’s integrity.
Unfortunately, this erosion of the Central Committee’s authority has occurred in many poorly run Republican Parties across the United States. In these instances, Central Committees have unwittingly—or, in some cases, willingly—delegated their control of the party to Executive Committees, often in direct contravention of state law. A particularly egregious example of this can be found in Ohio, where the Lorain County Republican Party operated in violation of Ohio law for nearly 30 years. During this time, the Central Committee members, rather than fulfilling their fiduciary responsibilities, met only once every four years and then promptly delegated all its power to an Executive Committee. Even worse, the Executive Committee further delegated its responsibilities to an even smaller Steering Committee, creating a power structure that was completely disconnected from the rank-and-file members of the party.
These acts of delegation, whether intentional or born of ignorance, are the result of a failure to adhere to a comprehensive and rigorous set of bylaws. Bylaws are the constitution of the party, the legal and moral framework within which all actions must be taken. They define the powers and responsibilities of each committee, establish the procedures for decision-making, and provide the checks and balances necessary to prevent the abuse of power. Without strong bylaws, the party is vulnerable to the very corruption and centralization of power that the Central Committee is meant to prevent.
In the next chapter, we will delve into the importance of proper bylaws, exploring how they can safeguard the integrity of the party, ensure the proper functioning of its governing bodies, and protect against the encroachment of executive power. For it is only through adherence to a clear and just set of rules that the Central Committee can fulfill its role as the true guardian of the Republican Party’s principles, its resources, and its future.
The Moral Architecture of Governance: The Essential Role of Bylaws in Party Integrity
In the realm of political organizations, where power is both the means and the end, the structure of governance is not a mere formality; it is the very foundation upon which the edifice of principle and purpose must stand. Nowhere is this more critical than in the bylaws that govern a County or State Party—an organization that exists not for profit, but for the preservation and promotion of the values that define a free society. For such an organization, bylaws are not just rules; they are the moral architecture that safeguards the integrity of the party, ensures the accountability of its leaders, and protects the rights of its members.
The nature of a political party demands a complexity in its governance that far exceeds that of a typical nonprofit organization. While the bylaws of a charity or community group may be adequately contained within a few pages, the bylaws of a political party must be far more comprehensive, often spanning 60 to 120 pages. This length is not a matter of bureaucracy for its own sake but a reflection of the diverse and sometimes contentious interests that must be balanced within the party. Unlike a charity, where members may universally agree on a single cause—such as fighting cancer—a political party is an arena of competing visions, strategies, and personalities. It is a crucible where the clash of ideas must be managed with precision and fairness. Proper bylaws are the blueprint for this management.
The first and most fundamental hallmark of good bylaws is the clear enumeration of powers and responsibilities. In the context of a political party, this means explicitly defining the roles of the Central Committee, the Executive Committee, and all subordinate committees. In a world where the temptation to centralize power is ever-present, it is imperative that these roles are not left to vague interpretation. Vague bylaws are the breeding ground for power struggles, infighting, and corruption, as individuals and factions twist ambiguity to serve their own ends.
For instance, in the absence of clear definitions, an Executive Committee might overstep its bounds, usurping the authority of the Central Committee under the guise of efficiency or necessity. Ad hoc committees, if not properly constrained, could assume powers that rightly belong to standing committees, creating parallel structures of authority that breed confusion and conflict. Good bylaws preclude these scenarios by delineating responsibilities with exacting detail, leaving no room for misinterpretation or abuse. Ad hoc committees, for example, should be explicitly designated as advisory, ensuring that their role is consultative, not authoritative.
The second hallmark of robust bylaws is the codification of political rights for Central Committee members and registered Republicans. These rights are the lifeblood of a democratic organization, ensuring that the party remains accountable to its members and, by extension, to the electorate. Such rights might include the ability to attend Central Committee meetings, access to the party’s financial records, and the assurance of a fair and transparent endorsement process for all Republican candidates. Without these rights, members are reduced to mere spectators in the political process, their voices silenced by those who hold the reins of power.
Moreover, the bylaws must provide mechanisms for members to exercise these rights. This could include the ability to conduct party business by written petition or the requirement of an administrative hearing before any individual is disaffiliated from the party. Such provisions are not merely procedural; they are the bulwark against tyranny within the party, ensuring that power is exercised with transparency and accountability.
The third hallmark is the establishment of clear procedures for handling grievances and the definition of penalties for misconduct. In any organization where power is at stake, conflicts are inevitable. But without a formalized process for resolving these conflicts, the party risks descending into chaos and division. Good bylaws provide a structured process for grievances to be heard and adjudicated, ensuring that justice is not only done but seen to be done. This process must include protections for whistleblowers, who play a crucial role in exposing wrongdoing within the party. A party that fails to protect those who speak out against corruption is a party that has lost its moral compass.
Finally, the most important hallmark of proper bylaws is the inclusion of a code of professional conduct and ethics, along with the penalties for violating this code. In a political party, where the stakes are nothing less than the governance of society, even minor wrongdoing can have catastrophic consequences. The party must hold itself to the highest standards of integrity, not only in its public statements but in its internal operations. Hypocrisy is the poison that can destroy a party from within; it is the cancer that erodes trust and undermines the very principles the party seeks to uphold.
How can a party credibly stand against tyranny in government if it allows its own leaders to wield unchecked power? How can it champion the rights of the individual if it permits the rights of its own members to be trampled? Just as we would not tolerate a city council that cedes all authority to a mayor, so too must we reject any structure within the party that concentrates power in the hands of a single individual or small group, unchecked by the broader membership. The Central Committee, as the representative body of the party’s members, must retain control over the party’s direction and resources. It is the chairman of the Central Committee, not the party’s CEO, who should preside over meetings and ensure that the will of the members is faithfully executed.
In conclusion, the bylaws of a political party are not merely a legal requirement; they are the embodiment of the party’s commitment to its principles. They are the safeguard against the concentration of power, the protector of members’ rights, and the framework for ethical governance. Without them, the party is adrift, vulnerable to the very corruption and tyranny it claims to oppose. Properly crafted and rigorously enforced, bylaws are the bedrock upon which a party can build a lasting legacy of integrity, accountability, and, above all, a steadfast commitment to the principles of liberty and justice that define the Republican cause.
In the end, it is not enough for a party to speak of freedom, justice, and integrity; it must embody these principles in its very structure. Proper bylaws are the means by which this embodiment is achieved, the foundation upon which the party stands firm against the forces of corruption and tyranny. For a party that truly values its mission, there can be no higher priority than the meticulous crafting and vigilant enforcement of these essential documents.
The Essence of Leadership and Membership: The Perils of Top-Down Governance in Political Parties
In the intricate dance of governance, the distinction between a leadership-driven organization and a membership-driven one is not merely academic; it is the difference between tyranny and liberty, between the imposition of will and the expression of it. The structure of an organization reveals its soul, its true purpose. In the realm of political parties, this distinction is the line between success and failure—success not in the hollow terms of electoral victories, but in the far more significant measure of fidelity to the principles and will of the people.
A leadership-driven organization, or association, places immense trust in a single individual or a small cadre of leaders. Here, the chairman or president is imbued with sweeping powers to steer the organization, making decisions on behalf of the members, often without their direct input. This model demands much from its leaders—vision, integrity, and an unwavering commitment to the organization's founding principles. But it also carries an inherent risk: the potential for the leader to drift from the organization’s purpose, to substitute their judgment for the collective will, and to betray the very trust that has been placed in them.
In contrast, a membership-driven organization, or club, operates on a fundamentally different principle. Here, power resides not in the hands of one, but in the collective will of the members. The chairman or president in this model is not an autocrat but a steward, whose role is to divine and execute the will of the membership. They advise, and the members consent—or withhold their consent. This is a model that harnesses the diverse talents and perspectives of the members, ensuring that the organization remains true to its purpose and responsive to the needs and desires of those it purports to represent.
The distinction between these two models is not merely a matter of governance—it is a reflection of the organization’s core values. A membership-driven organization embodies the principles of self-governance, of individual sovereignty and collective decision-making. It is a microcosm of the republican ideals that form the foundation of a free society. In contrast, a leadership-driven organization, while it may operate efficiently, risks descending into the very tyranny it was meant to oppose, where decisions are made by a select few, often disconnected from the will and interests of the members.
The consequences of this distinction are nowhere more evident than in the political parties that claim to represent the will of the people. A successful political party—successful not merely in terms of winning elections, but in fulfilling its mission—must be a membership-driven organization. It must draw upon the wisdom, experience, and talents of its members, ensuring that its leaders remain accountable and that its actions reflect the collective will. Anything less is a betrayal of the party’s principles and a recipe for failure in the most meaningful sense.
For what good is it to dominate the field of politics if the candidates elected under the party’s banner do not represent the values and interests of those who elected them? What good is a Republican Party that wins elections if, in doing so, it has sold its soul to the highest bidder by running manipulative campaigns that elect unprincipled candidates? The true measure of success for a political party is not in the number of offices it holds, but in the fidelity of those officeholders to the party’s principles and the will of its members.
The dangers of a leadership-driven model are starkly illustrated by the recent history of the Ohio Republican Party. Despite its dominance in Ohio politics for over a decade, the party’s actions—or inactions—during the COVID-19 pandemic reveal the shortcomings of a top-down approach. While Republican governors in states like Florida and South Dakota upheld constitutional freedoms, Ohio’s leadership followed the playbook of New York Democrat Governor Andrew Cuomo, depriving Ohioans of their rights - based on flawed logic and fearmongering by government bureaucrats. This was not the will of the people; it was the will of a few, imposed on the many.
Moreover, despite its electoral success, Ohio under Republican rule bears an unsettling resemblance to Democrat-run states. The state’s tax burden is high, its regulatory environment onerous, and its social problems—from crime and prostitution to drug overdose deaths—are among the worst in the nation. Ohio’s schools, far from being bastions of conservative values, lead the nation in implementing liberal ideologies through programs like Social Emotional Learning (SEL), Common Core (CC), and Positive Behavioral Interventions and Supports (PBIS), all of which are avenues for promoting socialism, communism, and wokeism.
This is the legacy of a leadership-driven party—a party that, in pursuing electoral victories at any cost, has lost sight of its principles and betrayed the trust of its members. The Ohio Republican Party, though Republican in name, has allowed itself to become a vehicle for policies and practices that are antithetical to the very principles it was founded to uphold. It has more in common with Democrat-run states than with the vision of a less taxes and more freedom society that it claims to champion.
The lesson is clear: a political party that seeks to truly represent the will of the people must be a membership-driven organization. It must empower its members, draw upon their talents, and remain accountable to their collective will. It must resist the temptation to concentrate power in the hands of a few and instead ensure that its leaders are guided by the principles and interests of the many. Only then can the party fulfill its true purpose—not merely to win elections, but to govern in accordance with the principles of liberty, justice, and the rule of law.
In the end, the choice between a leadership-driven and a membership-driven organization is a choice between two fundamentally different visions of governance. One is the path of efficiency, of power concentrated and decisions made behind closed doors. The other is the path of liberty, of power shared and decisions made in the open, with the full participation of those who will be governed by them. For a political party that truly values its principles, there can be no question which path it must choose. The future of the party—and the future of the republic—depends on it.
The Disengagement of the Masses and the Commodification of the Party
In the landscape of modern politics, a paradox has emerged—a chasm between the average Republican voter and the intricate machinery of the party that claims to represent them. This chasm is not merely a matter of ignorance or apathy; it is the product of a deliberate obfuscation, a systemic effort to obscure the workings of the party from those who are meant to be its lifeblood. The result is a disconnect so profound that most everyday Republicans cannot name their city, county, or state officials, let alone their precinct representatives or the individuals who run their county party. This is not by accident. It is a condition fostered by a system that thrives on the disengagement of the masses, a system that has sold its soul to the highest bidder, leaving the true principles of the party to wither in the shadows.
Why is it that so many Republicans are unaware of the very structure of the party to which they belong? The answer lies in the deliberate omission of party politics and their mechanisms from the educational systems, both public and private. From kindergarten through high school, students are taught the basics of American government—how a bill becomes a law, the branches of government, and the rights enshrined in the Constitution. But nowhere in this curriculum is there a thorough education on the inner workings of political parties, the very engines of our democracy. This is not a mere oversight; it is a strategic omission. The all-encompassing "they"—those who benefit from a disengaged and uninformed electorate—do not want you to know how the party works. They do not want you to understand that the party, which should be a vehicle for your voice, has been hijacked by those who see it as nothing more than a tool for their own enrichment.
For those who do make the effort to understand the party’s workings, the experience is often one of profound frustration. The layers of bureaucracy, the entrenched executive committees, the bullying of chairmen who wield power with impunity—these are the barriers that stand between the average Republican and any meaningful engagement with their party. After more than three decades of the party being dominated by such figures, it is little wonder that many have simply given up, choosing instead to donate directly to candidates who, unbeknownst to them, often funnel that money right back to the party. The system, as it stands, is designed to perpetuate itself, to maintain the power of those at the top while keeping the rank-and-file members disillusioned and disengaged.
The corruption at the heart of this system is most evident in the way campaign finance laws have been twisted to serve the interests of the powerful. In many states, there are strict limits on the contributions that individuals can make directly to candidates, and corporations are often barred from donating to candidates at all. But these laws have not curbed the influence of money in politics; they have merely driven it underground, creating a system of money laundering that funnels contributions through the party apparatus. This is how the party maintains its stranglehold on power. With a nod and a wink, large donations are passed through the party and then redistributed to the chosen candidates, minus the party’s cut. This is not democracy; this is a cartel, where money, not principle, dictates the party’s actions.
At the county level, this system is often celebrated as a point of pride. Party leaders boast of how much money the county party has given to local campaigns, as if this were the party’s primary function. But this is a fundamental misunderstanding of what the party is meant to do. The role of the party is not to bankroll individual campaigns but to build and maintain the infrastructure that supports all Republican candidates—an infrastructure that includes canvassing apps, databases of volunteers and donors, yard sign distribution, mass emailing and texting services, call center apps, candidate slate cards, absentee ballot chases, and forums for debates and town halls. When the party fails to provide these services and instead focuses on direct contributions to candidates, it has abandoned its true purpose and has become a mere facilitator of money laundering.
The most successful parties are those that focus not on the size of individual donations but on the breadth of their support. A healthy, vibrant party is one that draws its strength from small donations, from the many rather than the few. It is a party that relies on the collective will and resources of its members, not on the deep pockets of a select few. Unfortunately, many state Republican parties have gone in the opposite direction. They have become wholly dependent on large donations, often from corporations and wealthy individuals with vested interests in state contracts and policies. These donors, not the members, now dictate the party’s platform, turning it into a hollow shell that serves the interests of the few while ignoring the needs of the many.
This commodification of the party is reflected in the way it approaches fundraising. Most state Republican parties today see no need to cultivate a broad base of small donors. They are content to rely on a handful of large contributions, knowing that these donations come with strings attached. The party’s leadership, in turn, takes its cues not from the Central Committee or the rank-and-file members, but from the candidates who can bring in the most money. This is not a party that serves the people; it is a party that serves itself.
The result is a political system that is increasingly disconnected from the principles it claims to uphold. Take, for example, the state of Ohio, a state dominated by Republicans for over a decade. Despite this dominance, Ohio has more in common with Democrat-run states than with the conservative ideals it professes to champion. High taxes, onerous regulations, high crime, and social problems like drug overdoses, prostitution, and gambling plague the state. The education system is rife with liberal ideologies, from Social Emotional Learning (SEL) to Common Core (CC) and Positive Behavioral Interventions and Supports (PBIS)—all tools for promoting socialism, communism, and wokeism under the guise of educational reform. This is the legacy of a party that has lost its way, a party that has sold its soul to the highest bidder.
The demoralization and anger felt by many Republicans today is not simply a reaction to the state of the nation; it is a reaction to the state of their party. They see a party that no longer represents them, a party that has become a tool of the powerful rather than a voice for the people. This frustration is exacerbated by the fact that the party does not need them. With its coffers filled by large donations, the party has little incentive to engage with its members, to listen to their concerns, or to fight for the principles they hold dear. Instead, the party focuses on running ads, filling the airwaves with rhetoric and propaganda that serve only to maintain the status quo.
The result is a party that is hollow at its core, a party that has lost the trust of its base and that has become increasingly irrelevant to the lives of ordinary Americans. The vitriol and division that now characterize our political discourse are the direct result of this disengagement. When the party no longer represents the people, when it becomes a vehicle for the ambitions of the few rather than the will of the many, it creates a vacuum that is filled by anger, frustration, and despair. This is the reality of our political system today—a system that has failed to live up to the ideals upon which it was founded.
But there is hope. The path to renewal lies in reclaiming the party from those who have hijacked it, in restoring it to its true purpose as a vehicle for the will of the people. This will require a fundamental shift in the way the party operates, a return to the principles of small donations, broad engagement, and accountability to the members. It will require a rejection of the commodification of the party and a renewed commitment to the values that made it great.
When we fix the party, we fix America. The vitriol that now divides us will fade, and the simmering discontent that characterizes our political discourse will give way to reasoned debate and mutual respect. But this will not happen on its own. Yes, the everyday Democrat and everyday Republican differ but they are not at the extremes that the monied interests within both parties are at. It will require the active engagement of every Republican, from the grassroots to the leadership, to reclaim the party and to restore it to its rightful place as the voice of the people. Only then can we begin the work of healing our nation and building a future that is worthy of the principles upon which it was founded.
Recap
The decay of the Republican Party is not an accident of history but a calculated consequence of the relentless pursuit of power by the few at the expense of the many. In the late 1980s and early 1990s, a series of quiet revolutions swept through the states, dismantling the very mechanisms that once ensured accountability and representation within the party. State and County Conventions, those once vibrant gatherings where the will of the people was voiced and where the future of the party was charted, were systematically eliminated or reduced to mere formalities. This was not progress, but a regression—a return to the days when power was concentrated in the hands of an elite few, unanswerable to the people they claimed to serve.
Campaign finance laws, once intended to cleanse the political process, have instead transformed political parties into money laundering operations. The parties that were once the architects of our collective future, guiding the state with a steady hand, have become mere instruments of those with the deepest pockets. They no longer stand for principles, for the values that once defined them, but for the interests of corporate and monied interest overlords who dictate their every move. The party has become a hollow shell, its purpose perverted, its soul sold to the highest bidder.
In this vacuum of leadership, where no organizing force holds Republican officeholders accountable, chaos reigns. Candidates no longer align with a shared vision or common cause but pursue their own pet projects, driven by personal ambition rather than the public good. The party that was meant to be the guardian of the people's interests has abandoned its post, leaving legislators free to act within their own self-interest, unchecked and unchallenged. The result is a government adrift, unmoored from the principles of liberty and accountability, serving not the people, but the powerful.
The Republican Party, in its current form, has ceased to stand for anything meaningful. It is a brand, a marketing machine, a tool wielded by those who seek only to maintain their grip on power. It no longer represents the people, no longer fights for the ideals of limited government and individual sovereignty. It has become disconnected, not just from its base, but from the very principles that once made it a force for good in the world.
But all is not lost. History is not written in stone, and the pendulum of power, though held in place for too long, can and must swing back. The task before us is monumental, but it is also essential. We must reclaim the party from those who have corrupted it, restore it to its true purpose, and ensure that it once again serves the people, not the elites. The future of the Republican Party—and indeed, the future of our Republic—depends on it. The battle for the soul of the party is the battle for the soul of the nation. We must rise to this challenge, or risk losing everything that our forebears fought to secure.