Liberty Risen: The Ultimate Triumph of Libertarian-Republicans

By Thaddeus McCotter

In this Internet Age, is the Grand Old Party over for the Republican Establishment? If so, what individuals and ideas will ascend to meet the moment and revitalize a party that is now viewed as more of an antiquated complaint than a transcendent cause? In "Liberty Risen: The Ultimate Triumph of Libertarian-Republicans", former GOP House Republican Policy Chair - and NOT a Libertarian - Thaddeus McCotter articulates the political and cultural circumstances driving the GOP's once disdained Libertarian wing to its present prominence and predestined dominance. Yet, if Liberty is risen, when will it reign? To find out, buy the book.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Start Publishing LLC
• Release date: Nov 15, 2014
• ISBN: 9781633559691

Book preview

GOPerdammerung: Twilight of the Establishment

Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?

The following is an all too familiar scene within the Grand Old Party’s grassroots jungle:

They’re here.

The octogenarian Republican chairman waggled his gavel at the two Republican Party pariahs entering the diner’s private meeting room. The dozen other white, business causal clad executive committee members muttered and rolled their eyes as their invited but unwelcomed colleagues took their seats. The pariahs plopped their pocket Constitutions, Robert’s Rules of Order, a stack of Xerox copies and their notebooks on the four linoleum tables that had been shoved together to accommodate the monthly assemblage of local GOP poobahs.

The Chairman banged the meeting to order. After the group recited the Pledge of Allegiance, the two pariahs leaned forward in their chairs and readied their pens, though neither were the grassroots group’s Recording Secretary. Wearily, the executive committee members glowered at them, anticipating another dose of interminable questions, propositions and interruptions. On their part, the pariahs, Tom and Becky, didn’t intend to disappoint.

In his jeans, work boots and company issued windbreaker adorned with a Don’t Tread on Me flag sewn on its breast opposite his name, Tom was the elder of the pariahs and older than his years. A fifty-five year old widower, he was nearing the end of the line of a working class life: a company buyout, some government checks and, soon enough, a blue pill compliments of Obamacare. A rebellious youth, he hated two things – being told what to do and politics. His antipathy to authority resulted in a scrape and a choice: two years in jail or in the U.S. Army. Tom chose the latter. His army stint matured him, but over the years an exponentially expanding government’s incessant intrusions upon and erosion of his American Dream restored his anti-authoritarian streak. Instinctively, he gravitated toward Libertarianism, though he didn’t join the party due to his support for strengthening the military, in which his only son now served. Remaining less than enamored of politics but convinced America’s future was being squandered by the spendthrift political class at the expense of the sovereign citizens they purported to – and by Constitutional duty had to – serve, Tom felt he had to do something. So he did. He joined the GOP; later, he joined the Tea Party; and, tonight, he raised his hand.

Mr. Chairman, he said respectfully, glancing at the wizened chairman and the other staid members, who only put him and his fellow pariah, Becky, on the executive committee in a transparent attempt to coopt and quiet them. Becky and me brought a resolution opposing domestic spying.

The matronly Vice Chair, Martha, idly stirred her Earl Gray tea. You mean domestic surveillance, she huffed.

Six one way, Becky shrugged. She slid the first copy of the resolution to Martha, then the remaining copies to the other committee members. A few of them deigned to touch the resolution. None of them pretended to read it.

Becky expected as much. A single, thirty year old entrepreneur who wished there were enough hours in the day to run her small business, be politically active and get a good night’s sleep, hers was a familiar Libertarian journey. While getting her MBA, at a Libertarian friend’s urging, Becky half-heartedly agreed to read his copy of Atlas Shrugged. Inspired by its spirited defense of the free market and entrepreneurs, she somehow made the time to become active in the Young Americans for Freedom, and eventually both the Libertarian Party and the Tea Party. Under ordinary circumstances, this confirmed Libertarian would never have consented to sully her ideological purity. But these weren’t ordinary times. The rabid federal Leviathan’s insatiable craving for more taxes from and control over people was on the verge of usurping her autonomy, her privacy, her money, her sovereignty. Assessing the situation through her practical entrepreneurial eyes, she reluctantly admitted one of the appeals of the Libertarian Party to its members was its proven inability to elect candidates and, thus, never risk sullying its ideological hands by actually having to govern. As for the Tea Party, while presently politically relevant, it wasn’t the Right wing monolith the Democrats, Liberal media and even the GOP assailed. In fact, the Tea Party wasn’t actually a party at all. It was an organic, ill-funded, diffuse amalgamation of volunteers and local grassroots organizations who, while united in their opposition to Big Government, had no immediate prospects of uniting themselves into a full-fledged national political party that advanced a coherent, comprehensive agenda by nominating and electing candidates bearing the Tea Party designation on a ballot. No, Becky had sadly concluded, the most practical way to halt – ASAP – Big Government’s tyranny