the same one made by conservative media figures such as Hannity, Bill O’Reilly, and Charles Krauthammer: Democrats were weaponizing the issue to dominate a changing America over the long haul.
But this reasoning meant little to politicians who live their career ambitions two years at a time, and even less to those whose districts weren’t reflective of any such change.
“It’s ironic that Reince thought they were helping by issuing their autopsy, because there was this cultural thing going on: ‘Here they go again, these out-of-touch people in Washington telling us that we need to let more of the strangers in.’ It just poured gasoline on the fire,” says Cantor. “Immigration was a problem for the party, but it wasn’t a problem in a lot of these districts.”
The visual dichotomy of this dilemma is found inside the House chamber. One side of the aisle looks like the country: young and old, man and woman, black and white and brown. The other side looks like the country club: aging white guys. In the 113th Congress, spanning 2013 and 2014, Republicans held 234 seats in the House; 19 members were women, and 9 identified as an ethnic minority. The remaining 205, or 88 percent of the House GOP, were white men.8 This isn’t to say that white men are politically illegitimate or make lousy legislators. But the statistical disparity speaks to the makeup of the districts they represent, and in turn, to those districts’ willingness to embrace an America that looks nothing like their microcosm thereof.
Much like President Bush’s aides discovered a decade earlier when pushing for prisoner reentry programs, House Republicans wanted nothing to do with immigration reform because they felt it was not relevant to their constituents. “We did a little test whip with our members,” Cantor says, “and it went nowhere.”
The same was true of legislation affecting another cultural flashpoint in the spring of 2013: guns.
In the wake of the previous December’s massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut, which claimed the lives of twenty grade-school children and six teachers—and which came after at least three other mass shootings during Obama’s presidency, while predating at least half a dozen others—Congress attempted to act. Addressing the lowest common denominator, West Virginia Democrat Joe Manchin and Pennsylvania Republican Pat Toomey sought to expand background checks on commercial purchases.
But despite the modest aims, and the senators’ lifelong “A” ratings from the National Rifle Association, their effort went nowhere. Facing an avalanche of hyperbolic (and often downright false) attacks from the NRA, the bill died in the Senate.9 Even if it passed, it would have gone nowhere in the House, and for the same reason: The issue was too easily demagogued among Republican voters. The self-preserving instincts of lawmakers were not conducive to any such legislation.
THE HOUSE REPUBLICAN LEADERSHIP WAS BOXED IN.
When it came to immigration, Boehner personally liked the Senate bill and would happily have supported a qualified path to citizenship for both minors and adults. But he had to be careful. The Speaker had survived one attempt on his political life that year; he couldn’t afford to invite another by flouting the sentiments of his majority.
Cantor, meanwhile, was no longer in the catbird seat. His recently announced support for the principles of the DREAM Act, which would extend citizenship to illegal youths brought to the country through no fault of their own, had angered many of the Tea Party types who had long preferred him to Boehner. “They were told in our conference, ‘If you try this, you’re going to be gone,” Labrador recalls, referencing a potential vote on comprehensive immigration reform. “And they listened. Boehner was worried about his speakership, and Cantor was worried about not being able to become the Speaker.”
As the Senate bill hurtled toward passage, and members’ attitudes ranged from uneasy to outright threatening, Boehner and Cantor settled on a passive approach: They would sit back and let the debate unfold freely, not committing to anything one way or the other.
The early returns were actually quite encouraging. On June 5, the RSC and its 170-some members hosted a panel of senators for a huge, bicameral “family meeting” on immigration. The headliners were Rubio and Flake in favor of the Senate bill and Sessions and Cruz opposed. Rubio kicked off the summit by acknowledging the disdain for his bill within the House GOP. But he then pivoted to emphasize the many other areas of agreement across the party’s ideological spectrum, urging his brethren not to ignore the major