The Tea Party is a liability for the Republicans

This war for the GOP’s soul could do more harm than good – particularly if the wrong side wins.

Jon Stainbrook doesn't try to keep the excitement out of his voice. "In 2006, in 2008, if you had an R by your name, you were gonna lose," he says. "Now if there's an R by your name you win." In next week's midterm elections, he says, the Republicans are "gonna win and gonna win big. It'll be the biggest victory we've had in years."

All this, understandably, has Stainbrook rather excited. He's chair of the Republican Party in Lucas County, Ohio, one of the most solidly Democratic areas in the Midwest. But Ohio as a whole is a depressed, post-industrial wasteland that tends to be a bellwether come election time: as goes Ohio, so goes America. And this year, the state looks set to pick a Republican governor, a Republican senator and a swath of Republic congressman.

"I never thought that people would turn on Obama this quickly," says Stainbrook, with undisguised glee.

Yet if there's a downside for the Republicans, it is contained within the very movement that has done so much to energise its voter base this year. The Tea Party has been festooned with media coverage and had a number of notable victories in helping right-wing Republicans beat more moderate candidates in the party's primaries last summer. More importantly, for the first time in half a decade, it has got the party's conservative base excited about being conservative again.

But while the Tea Party may have helped the Republicans out this year, there are reasons to think it could be a liability in future elections.

Stream of anger

Problem number one is that the Tea Partiers are, not to put too fine a point on it, nuts. Horror stories about the movement's preferred candidates abound. Christine O'Donnell, the conservative running for the Delaware Senate seat, won unflattering headlines when she flatly denied that the US constitution had anything to say about the separation of church and state.

The activists are no better. Gloria Johnson, chair of the Democratic Party in Knox County, Tennessee, says her local Tea Partiers "couldn't organise their way out of a paper bag". Those turning up to a meeting in her district found that the parking garage was closed. "They couldn't face the idea of on-street parking. So they cancelled the meeting."

This is not the stuff that revolutions are made of.

A bigger problem with the Tea Party, though, is that, by picking hard-right candidates, it may be making the Republican Party less attractive to mainstream voters. Many Tea Partiers think they represent a stream of anger that runs through the entire US population. Actually, polls have found that – surprise, surprise – they are far more conservative than most of their countrymen.

This means that the Tea Party's preferred candidates may be less palatable to the electorate than the moderates they've pushed out. (In what is shaping up to be a great year for the Republicans, O'Donnell looks all but certain to lose her race.)

John Martin, a moderate conservative activist who in 2008 led the "Republicans for Obama" campaign, says unequivocally that the Tea Party will be bad for his party. "A lot of people who are running as independents today were Republicans three years ago," he points out.

Other polls have found that the Tea Party is doing more to fire up horrified Democrats than it is to build Republican support.

Grow, grow, grow your own

There is one more problem with the Tea Partiers: and that is, they don't think much of the Republican Party, either. Many see the party establishment as a bunch of just the kind of elitist career politicians they've set out to destroy. Democratic activists are full of glee that their party looks much more unified in presumed defeat than the Republicans are looking in victory.

This war for the party's soul could do more harm than good – particularly if the wrong side wins. A big Republican victory this year could lead to overconfidence, making it harder for the party to move back to the centre ground where presidential elections are won. And it could make the Republicans more likely to pick someone unelectably right-wing to run against Barack Obama in 2012.

Some activists, you sense, are aware of this problem. Stainbrook is oddly contradictory in his attitude towards the Tea Party.

He is effusive, describing it as "a wonderful, beautiful thing". "I love it," he says. "Why would we not want to nurture and grow something that's ours?" But he cheerfully admits that the Tea Partiers aren't going to stop their attacks on moderate Republicans for the sake of party unity.

And in the same breath with which he heaps praise on the movement, he concedes that it might dent his party's electoral prospects. "There is always the danger," Stainbrook says, "that if in the primary you pick an ultra-conservative then you've got a candidate that's not as palatable to the general public.

"But that's the thing," he adds quickly. "They don't want a moderate any more."

Perhaps the party doesn't. But it might just turn out that the voters do.

Jonn Elledge is a London-based journalist. In autumn 2008 he wrote the New Statesman's US election blog.

Jonn Elledge edits the New Statesman's sister site CityMetric, and writes for the NS about subjects including politics, history and Daniel Hannan. You can find him on Twitter or Facebook.

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Battle of the banners: how the disputes of football took to the skies

Across the top of the screen floated a banner, pulled by a little aeroplane: IN ARSENE WE TRUST.

Last weekend, during the West Brom-Arsenal game, I began to think my hearing was playing up again. I’ve been given hearing aids but don’t wear them. No, not vanity, it’s just a faff to put the things in and the quality of my life, which is excellent, is not being impaired. Anyway, as I live on my own, if the sound on the telly is too low, I put it up. No one knows or cares.

When I’m out entertaining lady friends at my local bistro, I always get a quiet table in the corner and sit facing them, all rapt attention, totally focused on them, so they think. It’s really just to help my hearing.

On the TV screen, I suddenly heard an aeroplane, which was weird, as there was no sign of it, but then hearing problems are weird. Children talking sounds deafening. Some consonants disappear. Could it be a helicopter on the Heath, taking some injured person to the Royal Free? At our Lakeland house, I often heard helicopters: the mountain rescue team, picking up someone who had collapsed on Grasmoor. So I do know what they sound like. But this sounded like Biggles.

Then across the top of the screen floated a banner, pulled by a little aeroplane: IN ARSENE WE TRUST. The score at the time was 1-1, Arsenal having just equalised. They eventually got beaten 3-1. Oh, the shame and irony.

Apparently, earlier in the game, according to newspaper reports the next day, there had been an anti-Wenger aeroplane banner: NO CONTRACT, WENGER OUT. I didn’t see it – or Sky TV didn’t show it.

Where do the fans or supporter groups get all the money? And how do they organise it? There is a theory that IN ARSENE WE TRUST was paid for by Arsène himself. Another, more amusing theory is that it was a group of Spurs supporters, desperate for Arsène to stay on at Arsenal and continue getting stuffed.

There have been a few similar aeroplane banners at football matches in recent years. There was one at Newcastle, when they were playing Sunderland, which read 5 IN A ROW 5UNDERLAND. Sunderland won, so it came true. Sent the Geordie fans potty.

Everton fans flew one in 2015 which read KENWRIGHT & CO TIME TO GO. He is still chairman, so it didn’t work.

Millwall fans did an awfully complicated one in 2011 at Wigan, during the Wigan-West Ham game, which resulted in West Ham going down. They hired a plane to fly overhead with the banner AVRAM GRANT – MILLWALL LEGEND. Now you have to know that Grant was the West Ham manager and Millwall are their rivals. And that they couldn’t fly it at West Ham itself, which could have caused most fury to West Ham fans. There’s a no-fly zone in London, which stops rival fans hiring planes to take the piss out of Chelsea, Arsenal and West Ham. The Millwall supporters who organised it later revealed that it had only cost them £650. Quite cheap, for a good laugh.

There’s presumably some light aeroplane firm that specialises in flying banners over football grounds.

I do remember a few years ago, at White Hart Lane and Highbury, walking to the grounds and looking out for blimps flying overhead – small, balloon-like airships mainly used for promotional purposes, such as Goodyear tyres or Sky’s aerial camera. The results were pretty useless, showing little. I haven’t seen any recently, so presumably blimps aren’t allowed over central London either.

I am surprised drones have not been used, illegally, of course, to display obscene messages during games. They could drag a few pithy words while on the way to drop drugs at Pentonville Prison.

The history of aeroplane advertising goes back a long way. Before the Second World War, Littlewoods and Vernons football pools were fighting it out for dominance, just as the online betting firms are doing today. In 1935, Littlewoods sent planes over London pulling banners that proclaimed LITTLEWOODS ABOVE ALL. Jolly witty, huh. 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 23 March 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Trump's permanent revolution