Barbara Mezeske: Political identity: What’s yours?

The Republican Party continues to remake itself. About a week ago, they elected Kristina Karamo as Michigan party chair — an important role in our swing state where Democrats have just achieved a majority in the state House and Senate, while holding the governorship.

Rather than see Democratic gains in the state as an indication that voters want to move away from election denial, extremism and cultural hot-button issues, Republicans chose a leader who represents all of that. Karamo holds to her assertion that she won the 2022 election for secretary of state, despite lagging fourteen points behind Jocelyn Benson. Yoga, she has said, is a satanic ritual; Beyonce is a tool of Lucifer.

So there’s that. Take a deep breath.

Now, when you think “Republican Party,” who comes to mind?

Is it Kari Lake of Arizona, who is making a career of filing unsuccessful lawsuits to overturn her election defeat? She has taken her show on the road to Iowa, maybe looking toward a presidential or vice presidential run in 2024.

Maybe you think of Georgia’s Marjorie Taylor Greene, who booed and hollered during President Biden’s state of the union address. Known more for her willingness to brawl on the public stage than her ability to craft legislation, she is an ascendant Republican star.

What about George Santos of New York, the man caught in so many lies regarding his own backstory that his Republican constituents are agitating for his resignation?

Or maybe you think of Ron DeSantis, whose cultural crusades against high school AP courses, elementary school libraries, Florida universities’ curricula, and Disney World keep him in the media spotlight. Oh, and he shipped some migrants from Texas to an island in Massachusetts.

Each of these people is a performative politician: what they do keeps them in the public eye. In practical terms, that means taking stands against transgender people and their families, against school books or classes that address racism, against diversity and equity initiatives in government or business. It means simplifying complex issues into sound bites that rally a political base. They stir the pot of public outrage, usually in front of a press conference.

The weird thing about the modern Republican Party is that we all can see what they are against, but it is harder to see what they are for. Once you have exploited the public’s fear of Black and brown people, of children using the “wrong” bathroom, and of books that might make white people feel guilty for the historic treatment of Native Americans and slaves, where do you go?

Our state and our nation have real needs that should be addressed by government. Did you read about the train derailment in East Palestine, Ohio? The nation needs to regulate railroads more aggressively. Republican governors can ship all the immigrants they want to northern states: we still need better immigration policies that are both practical and humane. Our national education crisis is about recruiting excellent teachers and boosting test scores, not about deciding whether a biography of Roberto Clemente can be read by a fifth-grader. We face real international threats from Russia and China that no amount of bluster or “America First” rhetoric will fix. Health care, energy, climate change: there is no shortage of serious issues for serious candidates to address.

And yet, we see in these Republicans an aversion to government itself. The old Republican Party always was for “limited government,” which meant fewer regulations on business and lower taxes. It did not mean the refusal to accept the results of elections, unless they went your way. It did not mean cries of “voter fraud” when neither election officials, special investigations, nor the courts could find any. It did not mean campaigning to take away rights from certain citizens, or never reaching across the aisle with anything but a raised middle finger. Most of all, it didn’t mean caring more about winning than about serving.

What to do? Start by accepting what your eyes and ears tell you about this new brand of Republican. Then look in the mirror: who do you see? If your principles don’t align with the new crowd, maybe you should update your political identity to “Independent.” Being an independent voter means looking for candidates who take government work seriously; who work for all constituents, not just some; and who have thoughtful plans to better our world. Step away from crazy and choose competent.

In the meantime, keep your eye on Republican Chris Sununu, governor of New Hampshire. His politics and demeanor are old-style Republican, from before the crazy took charge. It’s rumored that he is considering a presidential run in 2024. If the party rejects someone like him, that should tell us all we need to know about how to vote next time.

— Community Columnist Barbara Mezeske is a retired teacher and resident of Park Township. She can be reached at bamezeske@gmail.com.

This article originally appeared on The Holland Sentinel: Barbara Mezeske: Political identity: What’s yours?