It’s no secret that many of my fellow Republicans are having an identity crisis, weighing what it means to be a Republican against the choices the political system has given us.
I’m one of them.
I still feel like a Republican. But I’m not exactly happy with some of the choices my party has given me, and I’m beginning to ask whether a party label should determine every choice I make on the ballot.
The more I think about what I believe, listen to what Republicans are talking about and compare all of that with the people asking for my vote, the more I realize that political identity and an individual vote are not necessarily the same thing.
I am a Republican because I have a healthy dislike of government. I believe government ought to concentrate on the things only government can do. There’s an old “phone book test”: Before government takes on a service, ask whether somebody in the phone book already provides it.
I believe in smaller, less intrusive government that answers to the people. And I still appreciate the skepticism behind Ronald Reagan’s famous nine words: “I’m from the government, and I’m here to help.”
I believe government should focus on responsible spending and taking care of the basics: strong public schools, which are a constitutional responsibility in Texas; safe roads; reliable infrastructure; and attention to the water resources our communities depend on.
After more than 30 years of Republican governors, including nearly 12 under Greg Abbott, I have questions about what happened to those principles.
I look around our rural communities and see schools, roads, infrastructure and water resources that need attention. Meanwhile, Austin keeps reaching further into decisions that belong to our school boards, cities and counties.
Local government isn’t perfect. I’ve worked in it, and I cover it. But the people who must live with a decision ought to have a meaningful voice in making it—and a clear way to hold the decision-makers accountable.
Instead, communities are confronting hyperscale data centers and high-voltage transmission lines whose consequences they will live with while struggling to exercise meaningful control over what happens around them.
We’ve created a school voucher program that I regard as a costly new government entitlement with plenty of room to grow. We offer tax breaks to corporations and industries that, in my view, don’t need taxpayers’ help. Too many legislators appear more interested in following leadership than exercising the independent judgment we elected them to use.
For a party that once held limited government as a defining value, there certainly seems to be an appetite for consolidating state power.
Asking how that squares with our principles does not make me less Republican. Those principles are the reason I’m asking.
Research helped me put words to this tension. Political scientists describe party identification as an enduring social attachment—one that can survive disagreements over candidates and policies.
Here’s how I understand the distinction: Party identification is an enduring attachment; a vote is a particular choice.
Texas law also leaves us room to make that distinction. We don’t register to vote as Republicans or Democrats. Texas has an open-primary system, so voters may choose which party’s primary to participate in each election year. Voting in one party’s primary means staying with that party through any primary runoff that year, but it does not require supporting that party’s nominees in November.
Our Panhandle history reflects that independence. In 1960, Republican Richard Nixon carried 22 of our 26 counties with 62 percent of the vote. Yet Democrat Walter Rogers continued representing the Panhandle in Congress.
It happened again in 1988. Panhandle voters supported Republican George H. W. Bush for president while electing Democrat Bill Sarpalius to Congress. Our political history is more complicated than a map colored red might suggest.
My old boss, a terrific state senator, used to tell me, “Follow the jockey, not the horse.” What she meant was that labels and loyalties will only take you so far. In the end, you have to look at the person—their character, judgment and ability to lead—and decide whether you trust them with the job.
Who is this person? What have they done? Can I trust them? Will they listen? Will they work on the problems my community needs solved?
A party label cannot answer those questions.
Here’s an exercise if you are like me and still figuring this out. Write down the five issues you care most about and three character traits you try to live by. Then compare the candidates’ records, conduct and priorities against that list.
You may reach a different answer than I do. That’s your business. But I hope you will take the time to reach your own answer.
Suzanne Bellsnyder is editor and publisher of the Hansford County Reporter-Statesman and Sherman County Gazette. A former Capitol staffer with decades of experience in Texas politics and policy, she now focuses on how state decisions shape rural life through her newspapers and Texas Rural Reporter column. Subscribe at TexasRuralReporter.Substack.com