Reporters and commentators have been drawn to civil-war metaphors in describing the fight between the “establishment” and “tea party” wings of the Republican party for years now, and it has usually seemed overwrought. Then along came the shocking upset of House majority leader Eric Cantor in Virginia, followed by a Thad Cochran–Chris McDaniel Senate primary in Mississippi that was about as pleasant as the Battle of Chickamauga.
The drama of these elections — Cantor’s defeat was literally historic, and Cochran’s victory will generate ill feelings for a long time to come — has obscured the larger story of the evolution of the party. The GOP may well be coming together, not coming apart. Both wings of the party are, in fits and starts, converging on a new synthesis.
The tea parties have almost since their inception been attacking the party establishment for not standing for anything, and the establishment has been complaining for nearly as long that tea-party candidates are not ready for prime time. This primary season, each side seems to be learning the other’s lesson.
The candidate who best encapsulates the possible synthesis of the two wings is Ben Sasse, the college president who stormed out of nowhere to win the Republican nomination for the Senate in Nebraska. Sasse had the support of tea-party groups and campaigned on a full-throated anti-Obamacare and anti-Washington message. Yet he was a former Bush official who didn’t scare anyone, and he also talked about a governing agenda. He won a resounding victory over candidates who had either more establishment backing or more moderate records.
Sasse’s consultants wrote a shrewd memo on the meaning of his victory. “In the last two cycles,” they wrote, “we saw what happened when anti-establishment candidates with questionable backgrounds or poor campaign skills were nominated in several states. In 2012, other states showed what happened when the establishment worked to manipulate the system to put forward equally flawed candidates who also fared poorly in General Elections in 2012.”
It isn’t enough, they argued, for tea partiers to support conservative candidates. “We must also nominate,” they urged, “candidates who have substantial credibility as candidates, can articulate a vision of what they believe, can propose real solutions to problems, and don’t make significant mistakes on the campaign trail. We need conservative candidates, but they must also be skilled candidates in order to win.”
The marquee “establishment” victories this year in Kentucky, North Carolina, and Oklahoma have reflected the flip side of this coin. It’s not enough simply to be “electable,” or the longtime incumbent. Candidates who make the case that they will fight for conservative ideas, and not just serve time, can win tea-party support.
Polling suggests that Mitch McConnell won an outright majority of tea-party voters in Kentucky. By definition, the Senate minority leader is an establishment figure. But the relative ease with which he dispatched his challenger, Matt Bevin, spoke to how he had preserved his conservative bona fides and maintained a connection to his state.
In Oklahoma, Representative James Lankford won big over former state-house speaker T. W. Shannon, racking up a big enough margin to suggest that he too did well among tea partiers. Perhaps that should not be surprising, since he was considered one himself when he first won election to Congress in the wave of 2010. Some tea partiers soured on him because, for example, he voted to reopen the government during last year’s shutdown fight, but he was apparently able to convince many others that these votes did not reflect an abandonment of conservative goals.
Before winning his primary in North Carolina against two tea-party candidates, Thom Tillis was speaker of the North Carolina house at a time when the state was becoming a byword for an aggressive program of conservative reforms. So in all these races, Republican primary voters — including many tea partiers — decided that the establishment man was also theirs.
Cantor and Cochran are the exceptions that prove the rule. In retrospect, Cantor had clearly lost touch with his district, making him vulnerable. His favorability rating was shockingly low, and tea-party primary voters didn’t consider him conservative enough. Immigration was the issue that was the blasting cap. For a significant minority of voters, Cantor’s refusal to take a harder line on the issue was a reason to vote against him. For others, the issue lent credence to Dave Brat’s arguments that Cantor was out of touch, untrustworthy on issues, and a tool of big business.