Haley Barbour: Republicans Have No Brand Problem

In 1987, Haley Barbour and his partners hung out a shingle in Washington, D.C., doing business as the BGR Group. While their rivals up and down K Street were calling themselves senior counsellors or strategic communicators or global navigators, Barbour chose to self-identify as a “lobbyist,” which in the capital of world euphemism caused a ripple of arch surprise. The job of a lobbyist — unlike your own job, dear reader — is approved expressly by the U.S. Constitution, but it has never won a place in public affection alongside, say, the small-animal veterinarian.

Barbour was well prepared for the new opportunity. He knew national politics, having run deep-South states for a presidential campaign. He knew campaigns, having run himself as the sacrificial lamb for a Mississippi Senate seat held permanently by John Stennis. He knew Washington, having served as political director in the Reagan White House where he helped pitch the Mondale shutout. And he knew the Republican party from the ground up, having served as RNC chairman when the GOP took over both houses of Congress for the first time in 40 years.

About the Author

Neal B. Freeman

Neal B. Freeman, businessman and journalist, was a director of National Review Inc. for 38 years.

In 1987, Haley Barbour and his partners hung out a shingle in Washington, D.C., doing business as the BGR Group. While their rivals up and down K Street were calling themselves senior counsellors or strategic communicators or global navigators, Barbour chose to self-identify as a “lobbyist,” which in the capital of world euphemism caused a ripple of arch surprise. The job of a lobbyist — unlike your own job, dear reader — is approved expressly by the U.S. Constitution, but it has never won a place in public affection alongside, say, the small-animal veterinarian.

Barbour was well prepared for the new opportunity. He knew national politics, having run deep-South states for a presidential campaign. He knew campaigns, having run himself as the sacrificial lamb for a Mississippi Senate seat held permanently by John Stennis. He knew Washington, having served as political director in the Reagan White House where he helped pitch the Mondale shutout. And he knew the Republican party from the ground up, having served as RNC chairman when the GOP took over both houses of Congress for the first time in 40 years.