“We cheat the other and transfer the savings to you.” It’s an old promise from a bar in Anchorage, Alaska, but that slogan is coming to mind now at a Republican Party rally in Phoenix, Arizona. As the beat of ’80s rock and the cheers of the faithful fill a country club banquet room, Republicans seeking statewide office make some of the usual political promises. They are running, they say, for an Arizona that “loves everybody.” But the talk of wrapping all people in their benevolent embrace comes with a long list of people they see as enemies. It starts, of course, with the Democrats, who are portrayed as “communists” and “perverts” and who are accused of everything from collaborating with drug cartels to deliberately sabotaging the economy. Then attention turns to other Republicans. Sure, Democrats have plenty of bad things to say about Republicans, too. But they rarely attack their own. That’s the stark difference between them and the 2022 version of the GOP. The US is a nation divided almost evenly between two parties, where – in the normal course of politics – each side claims to represent the majority. But on this night in Phoenix, these new Republicans aren’t apologizing or even representing their entire side. A candidate for the state legislature thanks the crowd for weeding out “RINOs” during the primary. That acronym – for “Republicans in Name Only” – has become a standard pejorative for party members who commit the sin of appearing too moderate. The mention of the name Liz Cheney elicits some of the loudest boos of the night. Cheney is the once powerful congressional Republican now reviled by her own party as a thorn in Donald Trump’s side. By contrast, Arizona gubernatorial candidate Cary Lake is an outspoken election denier who he has called “Trump in a dress.” He says “the new Republican party is not Mitch McConnell’s party.” It’s a seemingly unprovoked swipe at her own party’s Senate leader, and it begs the question: How far to the right does one have to go to make Mitch McConnell look like a closet liberal? Missouri Sen. Josh Hawley, here to lend support, offers an unusual endorsement of Arizona Republican Senate candidate Blake Masters. “DC politicians absolutely hate Blake Masters,” he says. “It’s the best thing. They hate him. Both parties, by the way. DC politicians, both parties. They’re talking bad about him. They’re not going to help him. They’re destroying him. And the more they do, the more I love him. The more they do it, the more I’m like, ‘This is the guy for Arizona.’” The crowd roars in approval, as if all that matters to the candidate is whether his election would send a satisfying upset to other politicians – including Republicans. Clearly, it is a measure of how extreme Republican mainstream views have become that so many in the party are not considered extreme enough. But infighting aside, the real question is what message this sends to the electorate. Donald Trump’s midterm support events are being billed as “Save America” rallies. Lake, likewise, calls to “save Arizona.” But for whom? As they prepare to vote on Tuesday, even some Republicans have to wonder if any of these “savings” will work to their advantage. Or is it just “the other?”
