Darren Bailey’s uphill candidacy for farmers, cops and Illinoisans who feel ‘pushed aside’

DU QUOIN, Ill. — In his thick country drawl, Darren Bailey stood at a lectern clutching a microphone, trying to convince a crowd in his rural home base of southern Illinois that he speaks their language.

“I’m a farmer. This is an agricultural fair. How many farmers do I have out here with me today?” Bailey asked in late August at the Du Quoin State Fair as several people raised their hands. “All right. You guys get it … agriculture is the backbone of this nation. Agriculture is the backbone of this state. And we’re getting pushed aside. Our futures are getting pushed aside and ignored. And we must stand up and say, ‘No more.’”

A few weeks earlier, the burly Republican candidate for governor was 329 miles north at a pro-law enforcement event in a forest preserve by O’Hare International Airport. He climbed behind the wheel of a hulking, black, heavily armored SWAT vehicle for a photo op as if it were a combine on his farm back in Xenia and took a flippant swipe at his campaign rival, Democratic Gov. J.B. Pritzker.

“You think Pritzker knows how to turn on and shut this thing off?” Bailey joked. Shortly before that, he had cast a different tone when he led a few dozen at the event in a three-minute prayer that blamed Chicago’s persistent violence on politicians who are preventing police from doing their jobs.

“I pray for forgiveness that we have allowed our government to diminish the authority of law and order, and instead to lift up the rights of people who break the law,” Bailey told the crowd. “And I pray that soon, and very soon, that that would cease and that would end, and the men and women who serve and protect … would be lifted up.”

In his run for governor, Bailey has offered himself up as a herald for those he considers to be the overlooked in Illinois, those he believes have been ignored, forgotten and excluded from a Chicago-driven plan led by Pritzker for the state to thrive. It’s a religion-rooted regional crusade that has made Bailey the most conservative major nominee for the highest elected office in Illinois, a state where all three branches of its government are controlled by Democrats.

Once a little-known politician, Bailey has gained notoriety in part because of a series of controversies, including when he’s denigrated Chicago by referring to it as a “hellhole,” urged people to “move on” and “celebrate” the Fourth of July even as a gunman who killed seven people in Highland Park remained at large, and compared the deaths from abortion to the millions of Jews killed during the Holocaust in World War II.

Bailey’s emergence from being a farmer, school board member and state legislator to become the GOP’s nominee for governor comes at a time when the Republican Party at the national level has embraced far-right ideologies that were championed by former President Donald Trump, who lost Illinois by 17 points in both the 2016 and 2020 elections.

Trump helped Bailey’s stock rise among voters by endorsing him three days before he won a six-man primary for the Republican nomination. Bailey’s ascendancy also was boosted by a combined $35 million in ad spending by the billionaire Democratic governor’s campaign and the Pritzker-financed Democratic Governors Association in the GOP primary. Their ads labeled Bailey as too “extreme” for Illinois and served as a backhanded way to help the Republican gain support from the GOP base.

“There’s a tendency on either party, a candidate kind of more on the extreme, they can get people real excited and get them to turn out in a primary,” said former Illinois Gov. Jim Edgar, who ran as a moderate Republican. “Somebody that’s in the middle that might be thoughtful may not be as exciting, and that I think has a tendency not to do as well in a primary when you have a higher proportion of the extremes, in both parties, show up.”

In an interview with the Tribune at the Trump Tower in Chicago, Bailey expressed his belief that he can be a governor that can “unify the state,” despite generally not being a go-to person on issues in the state legislature.

“I’ve served two years in the House, two years in the Senate. I see the divide. I see the problems. I recognize that my ideologies, you know, (are) not on the top of everyone’s list,” he said.

Bailey has decried “woke” school curricula that incorporate LGBTQ teachings and he’s spoken out against critical race theory — academic analyses of how racism has persisted in long-standing policies and institutions — despite on the campaign trail not providing examples that it is being taught to youths in Illinois’ schools.

He’s promised to push for the repeal of landmark criminal justice reforms he thinks weaken the powers of law enforcement. And, as a legislator, he’s filed a bill that would repeal a requirement that Illinoisans obtain a Firearm Owner’s Identification card, which requires a criminal background check, to own a gun.

Though he hasn’t offered any proof of fraud, he’s said election integrity is “another big problem” in the state following Trump’s erroneous claims that the 2020 election was stolen from him.

Since joining the General Assembly in 2019, Bailey has aligned himself with a group of Republican legislators — known informally as the “Eastern Bloc” — who mainly represent the southeastern parts of the state and are often regarded as the most conservative voices in the legislature.

He’s also sponsored legislation in Springfield urging Congress to declare Chicago the nation’s 51st state and separate it from the rest of Illinois.

Perhaps the most attention Bailey’s drawn as a lawmaker was defying Pritzker’s COVID-19 pandemic mitigations in 2020.

To improve social distancing in the early days of the pandemic, the House moved its legislative session from the Illinois State Capitol to the airy Bank of Springfield Center. Bailey, who sued Pritzker because of his emergency mitigation orders, was ready for a fight when a top House Democrat proposed a resolution requiring all lawmakers in the arena wear masks.

“I stand here before you today … on behalf of the people of Illinois who feel captive, burdened, and unheard and I share their message. Friends, enough is enough,” Bailey said. “You want to send me or anyone else out these doors today, I understand. Go right ahead. But know this, that if you do that, you’re silencing millions of voices of people who have had enough.”

The resolution from then-House Majority Leader Greg Harris of Chicago passed 97 to 12. And in a subsequent resolution from then-state Rep. Emanuel “Chris” Welch, a Hillside Democrat who is now the House speaker, the Democrat-led chamber voted 81 to 27 to force Bailey to leave the House floor for refusing to wear a mask, though he showed up for session the next day wearing one.

Bailey last month wouldn’t say if he’s vaccinated against COVID-19. “I don’t think that’s anyone’s business to know,” he said. “That’s my personal health. No, you don’t … need to know what’s going on there.”

‘A true believer’

Bailey, 56, grew up in Clay County in a small town called Louisville — pronounced LEWIS-ville. Labor unions were active in this region of Illinois decades ago, and Democrats were widely elected to office. But many local union jobs disappeared, particularly as coal mining and manufacturing declined.

GOP state Rep. Blaine Wilhour, who is from far south central Illinois and has known Bailey for years, said the Democratic Party has gone too far to the left politically and lost legitimacy while Republicans have overtaken Democrats and better represent the working class.

“There’s no good-paying jobs in southern Illinois outside of government jobs, and unfortunately, there’s not enough of those to go around,” Wilhour said.

Over the years, college graduates seeking white-collar jobs — a demographic that tends to vote Democrat — have moved to bigger cities from their rural homes downstate, said Ryan Burge, an assistant professor of political science at Eastern Illinois University in Charleston.

“The ones who go get a … college degree then leave are going to be a little bit to the left of center. So where are they going to live? They live in the Metro East. … Or they move to the collar counties, DuPage, Kane, places like that,” said Burge, who once taught Bailey’s campaign manager, Jose Durbin, as an undergraduate student.

Bailey never got a degree from a four-year university. He instead earned an associate in applied science degree in agricultural production and management from Lake Land College, a community college in Mattoon.

A married father of four, he’s a third-generation farmer whose family owns Bailey Family Farm LLC, which, according to the company’s website, has acreage in six counties and also owns a freight company. Given the farming business and the land the Bailey family owns, Bailey likely has millions of dollars in assets, even as his tax returns show a modest income.

Before Springfield, Bailey spent 17 years on the school board in Clay County, 12 of them as president. But he also founded a “Christ-centered” private school, the Full Armor Christian Academy for preschool through high school-age students.

The school has campuses in Olney and Louisville, Illinois. Its staff is armed, and it uses curriculum from BJU Press, a publishing company founded by the Christian conservative Bob Jones University, the Effingham Daily News reported last year. BJU Press has offered textbooks contending the Bible is “the unerring source for analysis of historical events” and is the ultimate source if it conflicts with scientific conclusions.

As a devout evangelical Christian, Bailey publicly intermingles his faith and politics.

“You need to have something on your mind except financial gain when you are representing the people. … And maybe Darren being a true believer in God is a handicap, but that’s him,” said Bailey’s uncle, Don Bailey. “He believes in God wholeheartedly, and sometimes that kicks him in the groin. He’s not going to change that.”

In one of his daily devotionals that he posts on Facebook, Darren Bailey read passages from Ephesians that included God’s guidance that “slaves, obey your earthly masters with deep respect and fear.” Bailey said of the slave reference that “we know today what that means is people, if you’re working for someone, if you have someone above you in authority, you know, respect.”

But then he continued reading the passage that included, “Remember that the Lord will reward each one of us for the good that we do, whether we were slaves or free. Masters, treat your slaves in the same way. Don’t threaten them. Remember, you both have the same master in heaven and he has no favorites.”

‘He says what they want to hear’

Bailey arrived in Springfield after defeating longtime Republican state Rep. David Reis in the 2018 primary even though both men shared a background in farming, supported gun rights and opposed abortion. Bailey challenged and defeated Reis after Reis and about a dozen other Republicans joined Democrats in 2017 to pass a state budget that ended a nearly two-year impasse under former Republican Gov. Bruce Rauner but included a permanent income tax hike.

After Rauner vetoed the budget, Reis didn’t join Democrats a second time as they overrode that veto, but the political damage was done and Bailey seized the opportunity.

The new legislator’s style was noticeably different.

“I kind of came into the House when you were told to shut up and listen for the first three or four years and figure out how to do things,” said Reis, who is now registered with the state as a lobbyist. “Where Darren just came in and, you know, he was ‘rah rah’ and people back home love that.”

“He says what they want to hear,” Reis added. “And whether it’s reality or not, he says it. And whether or not it’s achievable or not, it’s what he says.”

Bailey was later elected to the state Senate, where he’s served since January 2021, but in his entire time in the General Assembly his accomplishments of getting bills to become laws are few. Out of about 50 bills he’s been the chief sponsor of just two have become law, including one that makes it easier for firefighters to get hired in small towns.

Bailey blames the Democratic-controlled legislature for his inability to get laws passed and says he’s proposed “some really good bills” such as tax credits for foster parents. But he also largely dismisses the job of being a lawmaker as unnecessary.

“If we would adhere to transparency and accountability and government holding entities responsible, we wouldn’t have to continually come up with laws,” he said.

Still, that hasn’t stopped him from sponsoring a series of bills that reflect his conservative views, including reinstating the death penalty and barring taxpayer-funded gender-reassignment surgeries.

His bill calling for Chicago to become the 51st state was a reflection that the “majority of residents in downstate Illinois disagree with city of Chicago residents on key issues such as gun ownership, abortion, immigration and other policy issues.”

On education, he’s sponsored a bill that would have required the Illinois State Board of Education to issue school vouchers to parents of public school students if those schools weren’t providing instruction in a classroom. The legislation would have helped private schools such as Full Armor. Bailey has said he removed himself from Full Armor a few years ago but didn’t deny that if the bill were to become law, private schools like Full Armor could potentially benefit from such a policy.

Perhaps Bailey’s most controversial position is on abortion. He says he only condones the procedure if the mother’s life is in danger. As a legislator, he’s co-sponsored a measure to repeal the 2019 Reproductive Health Act that enshrines abortion rights in Illinois and another bill that would have forced medical facilities that perform abortions to offer those who are more than eight weeks pregnant the chance to see ultrasounds of the fetus.

But on the campaign trail, Bailey routinely downplays the power he’d have to affect abortion laws if he’s elected governor. In the interview with the Tribune, Bailey said that “it’s up to the General Assembly” to change abortion laws, noting the state legislature’s Democratic majority supports abortion rights.

But Bailey has fewer concerns about what impact he’d have as governor on repealing the sweeping criminal justice reforms known as the Safety, Accountability, Fairness and Equity-Today, of SAFE-T, Act. Bailey has repeatedly pounded away on the law’s no-cash bail policy that is supposed to go into effect Jan. 1, saying it will result in more crime. Democrats who championed the law and its mission to improve police accountability and create a more equitable court system have accused the Republicans of spreading misinformation about its effects for political gain.

Like the state’s abortion laws, the Democrat-led General Assembly would have to approve a repeal of the SAFE-T Act.

“The SAFE-T Act is destroying our way of life,” Bailey said. “As a governor, I intend on using the platform to talk to the people and let them know that things can be different. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

While Bailey’s initiatives haven’t gone far in the General Assembly, Wilhour downplayed notions that Bailey can’t work well with others.

“Darren’s not some great articulator, or anything like that. He’s just genuine. And people feel that,” Wilhour said. “It’s funny some of the caricatures that they do of Darren in Springfield, like he doesn’t get along with anybody.”

But other Republicans, particularly those not as conservative as Bailey, have privately expressed lukewarm feelings about him being at the top of the ticket. During the GOP’s day at the Illinois State Fair in Springfield, House Republican Leader Jim Durkin didn’t even acknowledge Bailey by name.

State Rep. Tim Butler, one of Durkin’s assistant GOP leaders who used to sit next to Bailey on the House floor, thinks the Bailey campaign has made missteps by not reaching out to other elected Republicans from around the state to help introduce him to their voters.

“I think there have been some missed opportunities in creating some relationships with folks that have been through these battles before, that have helped on statewide campaigns, that have run elections, that know what they’re doing,” said Butler, of Springfield, who defeated a Bailey-endorsed primary challenger. “Darren very much talks about himself being an outsider and things like that. But at the end of the day … having people with experience is really helpful if you want to get the job done.”

Bailey said he’s used to getting pushback from fellow Republicans in his four years in the legislature.

“If I was to get upset with something like that, you know, I’d go back home and go back to the farm. And the reality is that we have got to be bigger than that,” he said. “I continue to do what I’m doing, and at the end of the day, I want to make sure that my message gets out to the people and they know who I am, and they’re going to make their decision.”

‘Rock-solid conservative principles’

In early September, Bailey was in the Chicago area speaking at the Palestinian American Club in Bridgeview. His appearance at the club drew criticism from Jewish Democratic legislators after he was seen on video talking to the crowd in front of a map of Israel labeled as Palestine.

The legislators saw this as part of a pattern of anti-Semitic rhetoric from Bailey who, in 2017, posted a video message on Facebook where he declared that the 6 million Jews who died during the Holocaust in World War II pales in comparison with lives lost to abortion.

But to those in attendance at the Palestinian event, Bailey offered the group a vague promise that, if he’s elected governor, they’d have “a seat at the table” to help decrease crime, lower taxes and create business opportunities.

Lina Othman of Orland Park said she was impressed by Bailey’s demeanor but concerned about his connection to Trump, an ardent supporter of Israel.

When she asked Bailey what he liked and disliked about the former president, Bailey said he agreed with his “business policies” and “putting America first” before going on a tangent about his dissatisfaction for Pritzker’s budgets.

That message about Pritzker resonated with Bob Kelsey of Berwyn.

“If something happens where the guy that calls himself our governor is still in office on Nov. 9, he’s going to be the U-Haul salesman of the decade because everybody’s getting a U-Haul. Everybody’s leaving,” Kelsey said, referring to Pritzker.

Back at the Du Quoin fair on Republican Day, Larry Tadlock stood under a giant canopy with dozens of people and held a sign that read, “LET’S GO BRANDON,” a rallying cry Trump supporters have adopted to disrespect President Joe Biden. Tadlock said he supported Bailey because he saw him as an everyman, especially compared to Pritzker, the billionaire heir to the Hyatt hotel empire.

“He’s from a country background. You can walk up to Darren Bailey and he’s not like a regular Chicagoan. He’s like a regular country folk, regular citizen,” Tadlock said.

In his stump speech, Bailey’s rhetoric about the struggles of farmers resonated with Mary Kozuszek, a farmer from Scheller, a town about 25 miles from the fairgrounds.

“He stands for the common everyday person like Trump did. They don’t have to be doing this. Either one of them didn’t have to run for the office they did,” she said. “Bailey, he’s conservative. He is a farmer. … Farmers feed the country. We feed the people and feed the world.”

Her husband, David Kozuszek, thinks Bailey is “a good Christian man” with “rock-solid conservative principles,” that play well with people in southern Illinois. Kozuszek said many in the region used to support Democrats but that’s when the party “was for the working man.”

“But today’s modern Democratic Party, people feel like (they’re) being left behind,” he said. “We were all Democrats at one time.”

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(Chicago Tribune’s Rick Pearson and Ray Long contributed.)

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