While sifting through remnants of my life stored away in my attic some time ago, I stumbled upon a flyer left over from my first legislative campaign in 1998. A lot of water has flowed under the bridge since my insatiable appetite for truth and justice lured me away from a fulfilling law enforcement career and into the world of politics, where nothing is ever quite as it initially appears. To be completely honest, my audacious naïveté was also part of the driving force that led me into the political rabbit hole.
As a veteran agent of the Major Crimes Unit of the Alabama Bureau of Investigation, with a respectable record of success to bolster my ego and just enough strikeouts to keep it in check, I began to recognize political power as an enigmatic force operating behind a shadowy veil—subtly manipulating our system of governance at every branch and every level. At the state level in Alabama, our political system has historically been structured to concentrate power, and for much of modern history that power rested with the Democratic Party following Reconstruction.
The American Revolution, however, was driven largely by a desire to deconcentrate power and promote self-governance. The Constitution that emerged was designed as the centerpiece of a system built around dispersing authority through mechanisms such as separation of powers between branches and levels of government. The founders understood that those who crave power most are often best equipped to seek it—and also most likely to abuse it. So they constructed a messy, complicated system relying on tension among ambitious actors to limit the reach of any one officeholder or faction.
In 1788, James Madison wrote, “If men were angels, no government would be necessary.” The reality, of course, is that we are flawed creatures, none of us deserving absolute power. Effective governance is a delicate undertaking requiring practitioners of what now seems to be a dying art: statesmanship. Statesmanship often runs counter to political campaigning, especially in today’s cultural environment, yet it remains essential for stable and effective governance.
A spirit of domination tends to arise among insiders who hold power, while a spirit of rebellion grows among outsiders seeking it—both driven by the less admirable aspects of human nature. Party labels and political philosophies matter far less than many are led to believe. Political opportunists and genuine public servants exist across the ideological spectrum. The real task is embracing thoughtful statesmen while rejecting oppressive, manipulative fearmongers. One thrives in campaigning; the other sustains governance.
Several years ago, it became apparent to me that I had become something of a political dinosaur, holding ideals that now seem obsolete. That old campaign flyer from more than 25 years ago reminded me of the principles that first drew me into the Republican Party and shaped my legislative service.
Republicans once articulated those principles plainly:
Republicans believe the most effective government is government closest to the people.
The individual is at the heart of good government. Each person’s ability, dignity, freedom, and responsibility must be honored and recognized.
Free enterprise and individual initiative and incentive have given this nation an economic system second to none.
Sound money management must be our goal.
We must have equal rights, justice and opportunity for all, regardless of race, creed, sex or national origin.
We must promote peace, freedom and human rights around the world.
Those were not merely campaign slogans. They were guiding principles—ideals meant to restrain power rather than concentrate it.
Having served eight years in the legislature prior to the Republican takeover in 2010, I recognize that those ideals are often easier to embrace when one is out of power. Today, consolidating power and imposing it on others too often appears to take precedence over the values of freedom and liberty.
During my final years in the legislature, it became increasingly difficult to reconcile those values with growing demands for party loyalty. Eventually, I realized those convictions were never truly partisan—they were rooted more deeply in faith than in politics. Despite my shortcomings during my political career, I take satisfaction in knowing I did not abandon those ideals throughout my campaigns or during twenty years of legislative service.
I do not know how many Republicans still believe in those principles today, but their numbers seem to be dwindling, and we are unlikely to see many campaign ads promoting them. Yet those are the values that made our country strong, and abandoning them will only accelerate moral decline. From my perspective now as a political outsider, it appears that a significant portion of today’s Republican Party no longer holds those beliefs—if it ever truly did. Many now believe in Donald Trump, or at least feel compelled to pretend they do.
My faith points me toward a principle that encompasses all others—one capable of transforming politicians into statesmen regardless of party or ideology. It is an absolute and universal truth that makes no exception for politics: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
As another deluge of political propaganda approaches, we must force ourselves to look beyond slogans, stigmas and slurs, and instead seek those motivated by service rather than servitude.
