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Schisms within continue to break the Republic Party – and maybe democracy itself.
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By
Investigative Reporter
Introduction
Standing in a cafe decorated with tiny American flags and antique cabinets as big as bodyguards, Peter Meijer paused as he considered what to say to the man in the 鈥淪tand for God鈥 shirt who had just called for his bodily harm.
It was a snowy morning in February. Meijer was the keynote speaker at a coffee-and-donuts meeting hosted by the Republican Party chapter in Kent County, Michigan, the most populous county on the west side of the state. Dressed in a candidate-casual uniform of jeans, a flannel shirt and an outdoorsy blazer, Meijer was seeking the Republican nomination for an open U.S. Senate seat, a race that could determine control of Congress鈥檚 upper chamber, in a state that could decide the presidential election. If Republicans wanted to win in November, Meijer told the 40-odd people in attendance, they needed to move on from the past and focus on their shared enemy.
鈥淚s there anyone who thought that Jan. 6th was good for the Republican Party?鈥 he asked. 鈥淒id it help us win in 2022?鈥
鈥淲e weren鈥檛 gonna win,鈥 someone yelled. 鈥淚t was rigged.鈥
鈥淭he election was stolen,鈥 another person said. 鈥淚t doesn鈥檛 matter.鈥
I watched this exchange from a table near the back of the room. Until that moment, the crowd met Meijer鈥檚 stump speech with polite nods and gentle applause. But when he brought up elections and Jan. 6th, the mood turned from Midwest nice to hostile.
Not long ago, this setting was friendly terrain for Meijer. For decades, voters here rewarded sensible, pro-business, avowedly conservative politicians. Meijer fit the archetype of a West Michigan Republican when he first ran for Congress in 2020. He was also basically Michigan royalty as an heir to the Meijer grocery store fortune. In one of the state鈥檚 most competitive districts, he won his debut congressional race by a comfortable 6-point margin.
At the Kent County event, however, many attendees seemed to feel nothing but scorn for him. That anger flowed from a single decision Meijer had made in Congress: He voted to impeach then-President Donald Trump. In response, he faced a far-right primary challenger who had served in the Trump administration and said Biden鈥檚 2020 victory was 鈥渟imply mathematically impossible.鈥 Meijer narrowly lost. Now, as a Senate candidate, he was trying to make amends, even pledging to vote for Trump 鈥 whom he had once called 鈥渦nfit for office鈥 鈥 if the former president won the Republican nomination. But to some, he was still a traitor.
鈥淗ow did you vote to impeach Trump when he said in his [Jan. 6] speech, 鈥業 want a peaceful demonstration,鈥欌 a man angrily asked. 鈥淵ou don鈥檛 have to go any further than that to know that he was right and that he shouldn鈥檛 have been impeached.鈥
鈥淚 was there,鈥 another man called out. 鈥淲e were peaceful.鈥
鈥淣o shouting now,鈥 the emcee said.
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One audience member accused Meijer of taking a bribe in exchange for his impeachment vote.
Another challenged him to name five 鈥減olitical prisoners from Jan. 6鈥 who were 鈥渟itting in prison and falsely accused.鈥 I watched Meijer struggle to complete a sentence before being cut off.
A third person pointed a finger at him as he questioned whether Meijer was actually in the Capitol complex on Jan. 6, 2021, as he鈥檇 claimed.
鈥淚 have a photo I took in the House,鈥 Meijer said, trying to defend himself without sounding defensive. Mostly, he listened wide-eyed, sipping coffee from a Styrofoam cup.
An older woman asked, in a gentler tone, if Meijer would redo his impeachment vote if he could. Would he at least have abstained instead of voting 鈥測es鈥?
Meijer responded by saying that when he was in Congress, someone had once joked that they鈥檇 throw him off a bridge if he ever voted 鈥減resent.鈥
A deep voice rang out on the far side of the room. The man in the 鈥淪tand for God鈥 shirt.
鈥淪orry?鈥 Meijer said, not hearing him.
The man repeated himself: 鈥淵ou should鈥檝e gotten thrown off the bridge.鈥
The System Falls Apart
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What divides the Republican Party of 2024 is not any one policy or ideology. It is not whether to support Donald Trump. The most important fault line in the party now is democracy itself. Today鈥檚 Republican insurgents believe democracy has been stolen, and they don鈥檛 trust the ability of democratic processes to restore it.
This phenomenon is evident across the country, in Georgia and Nevada, in Arizona, Idaho and Florida. But it鈥檚 perhaps the starkest in Michigan, a place long associated with political pragmatism and a business-friendly GOP, embodied by governors George Romney, John Engler and, most recently, Rick Snyder. It was a son of Michigan, former President Gerald Ford, who once said, 鈥淚 have never mistaken moderation for weakness, nor civility for surrender.鈥
I grew up in Michigan. My own political education and my early years as a journalist coincided with a stunning Republican resurgence in my home state. Over several decades, Michigan鈥檚 dynastic families 鈥 the DeVoses and Meijers and Van Andels on the west side, the Romneys and Fords on the east 鈥 poured money and manpower into the Michigan Republican Party, building it into one of the most vaunted political operations in the country. They transformed Michigan from a bastion of organized labor that leaned Democratic into a toss-up state that, until recently, had a and put Republicans in control of all three branches of government for eight of the last 14 years. Michigan Republicans were so successful that other states copied their tactics. As Dick DeVos, heir to the Amway fortune and a prolific Republican donor, once told a gathering of conservative activists, 鈥淚f we can do it in Michigan, you can do it anywhere.鈥
Several years ago, however, my home state stopped making sense to me. I watched as thousands of political newcomers, whose sole qualification appeared to be fervor of belief, declared war on the Republican establishment that had been so dominant. Calling themselves the 鈥淎merica First鈥 movement, these unknowns treated the DeVoses and other party leaders as the enemy. I had covered the DeVoses and the Michigan Republican Party long enough to know that they were not just pro-business but staunch conservatives who wanted to slash taxes, abolish regulations and remake the public education system in favor of vouchers and parochial schools. Yet the new 鈥淎merica First鈥 activists disparaged prominent Michigan Republicans as 鈥済lobalist鈥 elites who belonged to a corrupt 鈥渦niparty鈥 cabal. That cabal had denied Trump a rightful second term and needed to be purged from the party.
With a consequential election looming, I traveled back to Michigan earlier this year to understand how this all happened. I sought out the activists waging this struggle, a group of people who don鈥檛 trust institutions or individuals except Trump and one another 鈥 and sometimes not even that. Could they triumph over the elites? I found chaos, incompetence, strife, a glimpse of a future post-Trump Republican Party and, all around me, danger for our system of government and the state of the country.
鈥淲e can鈥檛 keep going through election after election like this where a large plurality of the country just does not accept the outcome of the majority and refuses to abide by it,鈥 said Jeff Timmer, a former executive director of the Michigan Republican Party who now works with the anti-Trump Lincoln Project. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 when the system falls apart.鈥
A Call From God
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After Peter Meijer鈥檚 event in Kent County, I drove west toward Lake Michigan to meet a plumber named Ken Beyer for lunch. Barrel-chested and with a neatly trimmed goatee, Beyer is in his late 50s but looks younger. He鈥檚 disarmingly earnest, the kind of guy who鈥檇 offer to help you fix a flat tire in a snowstorm. In less than two years, Beyer had risen from a political nobody to a district chair in the state GOP and a leader of the 鈥淎merica First鈥 movement in Michigan. He is known for his fiery videos, in which he might equate a rival to Adolf Hitler or warn that 鈥渢he storm is upon us.鈥 Like many of his 鈥淎merica First鈥 allies, he questions whether democracy still exists in this country. 鈥淚 don鈥檛 know if any election is fair anymore,鈥 he said.
Over chicken tenders and iced tea, Beyer, a church-going Christian, told me about a series of what he saw as divine revelations that had delivered him to this point. The pandemic and 2020 election had shaken him. He no longer recognized his own country. He feared that the moment had come, he said, 鈥渨here freedom and the American dream end.鈥
His next revelation happened on Jan. 6, 2021. Because he was convinced that Democrats stole the White House from Trump, he had gone to Washington to make his voice heard and show support for the president. Standing on the steps of the Capitol, he encountered a reporter with the conservative outlet Newsmax who needed help carrying gear. Beyer grabbed a tripod and backpack and filled in as a makeshift field producer for one of the biggest events of the 21st century. 鈥淲hat God wanted me to do,鈥 he later said, 鈥渨as help capture the history of what鈥檚 happening and get the truth out of what really was going on there.鈥
Back in Michigan, Beyer enlisted the help of a young videographer who had produced content for Beyer鈥檚 plumbing business, and together they churned out videos about COVID-19 (overblown), election fraud (rampant) and the 鈥渢ruth鈥 of Jan. 6 (鈥渁 big prayer meeting鈥). He read about disturbing allegations about voting-machine software changing votes. He listened to poll workers allege that mysterious suitcases of mail-in ballots had arrived overnight at the state鈥檚 largest ballot-processing site in downtown Detroit (a claim that was later debunked). The more he heard, the more he came to believe that his home state had been central to the Democrats鈥 plan to steal the 2020 election.
In his free time, Beyer urged Republican lawmakers to investigate the allegations of fraud made by Trump and his allies. Most Republicans brushed him off. A few, like Peter Meijer, had openly turned on Trump, voting for impeachment or dismissing Trump鈥檚 stolen-election theories. Beyer couldn鈥檛 understand it. 鈥淲hy weren鈥檛 they fighting for him?鈥 he said.
According to more experienced people in the party, there was a simple answer: Many of the claims brought forward weren鈥檛 true. A long-awaited investigation by a Republican-led state Senate committee found 鈥渘o evidence of widespread or systematic fraud鈥 in Michigan.
If Republicans wouldn鈥檛 act, Beyer reasoned, then they were just as bad as the Democrats. Trump supporters in other states had also encountered Republican indifference in response to Trump鈥檚 fraud allegations. What were they supposed to do now?
The Re-Founding Fathers
A solution arrived in the form of the 鈥減recinct strategy.鈥 It was a plan to ensure that the political establishment in both parties didn鈥檛 鈥渟teal鈥 future elections. Precincts are the smallest geographical unit in American elections. In Michigan, there are roughly 4,700 precincts typically made up of a few thousand active registered voters. Each precinct elects at least one delegate as its representative to a county convention, and sometimes three or four. In all, there are upwards of 8,000 delegate positions in Michigan.
If a state political party is a pyramid with a chairperson at the top, precinct delegates occupy the lowest, broadest tier. Until recently, it was an obscure position. Thousands of the seats often sit empty. If enough Trump supporters filled them, Bannon said, they could form a majority within the party, elect allies to leadership positions and, eventually, take control.
Ken Beyer had never heard of a precinct delegate until he stumbled across the website for MI Precinct First, a group inspired by Bannon鈥檚 plan. He decided to run. He believed that this, too, must be part of God鈥檚 plan for him. 鈥淚 believe that He鈥檚 using people like me throughout the United States to become the re-founding fathers,鈥 he told me.
The precinct strategy proved successful. In Michigan, thousands of new activists, many recruited by 鈥淎merica First鈥 groups, became precinct delegates in 2022. In Ottawa County, a deeply conservative enclave along Lake Michigan, the number of delegates leapt from 170 to 330. The same trend played out in other battleground states. 鈥淭he Trump apparatus did very little correct except infiltrate the party right down to the precinct level,鈥 said Timmer, the former executive director of the Michigan Republican Party. 鈥淣ot just in Michigan but all over.鈥
The first test for the new 鈥淎merica First鈥 delegates came in late August 2022. In Michigan, the voters select most nominees for elected office in a normal primary election. But for two key positions with oversight of elections 鈥 attorney general and secretary of state 鈥 the precinct delegates decide the party鈥檚 nominees at a statewide convention. These conventions were often sleepy affairs, the outcome predetermined. But this time, when the party鈥檚 chair, a wealthy donor and former U.S. ambassador named Ron Weiser, took the stage, the cavernous ballroom filled with boos and jeers.
鈥淗ow many of you believe we can sweep in November?鈥 Weiser asked.
鈥淲ith the new people!鈥 a woman wearing a 鈥淜eep America Great鈥 hat yelled. 鈥淲ith 鈥楢merica First鈥!鈥
Over the opposition of Weiser and other longtime party operatives, the 鈥淎merica First鈥 contingent nominated two election deniers for attorney general and secretary of state. Matthew DePerno, a combative lawyer who had promoted a viral yet baseless theory about voting fraud in tiny Antrim County, Michigan, vowed to use the power of the attorney general鈥檚 office to investigate election crimes. Kristina Karamo, a tall, commanding woman in her late 30s with a breathless speaking style, was the 鈥淎merica First鈥 pick for secretary of state. A community college instructor and live-trivia host, Karamo had come to prominence after she testified before the Michigan Legislature about irregularities involving ballot counting and voting machines she said she鈥檇 witnessed as a poll challenger in Detroit in 2020.
As a show of political force, nominating DePerno and Karamo was impressive. As an electoral strategy, it was disastrous. Both candidates were trounced in November, and Michigan Democrats won control of all three branches of government for the first time in more than 30 years.
DePerno conceded defeat right away. Karamo did not. To outside observers, her stance was laughable: She had lost by 615,000 votes, roughly the population of Detroit. But Beyer and many other 鈥淎merica First鈥 delegates saw Karamo鈥檚 actions as brave and principled, the opposite of DePerno鈥檚 cowardly and hypocritical concession. Several months later, she and DePerno ran against each other to be the next chair of the Michigan Republican Party. DePerno won endorsements from Trump and Mike Lindell, the MyPillow CEO and a funder of the election-fraud movement. But the delegates rallied behind Karamo and delivered her the victory. In just two years, Bannon鈥檚 precinct strategy had gone from a quixotic scheme to a reality.
No sooner had Karamo won than paranoia set in. Standing on the convention floor just before her victory, a well-connected precinct delegate approached Beyer to deliver a message. 鈥淗e says, 鈥楲eadership is going to let you guys have this one,鈥欌 Beyer recalled. Karamo would be chair, in other words, because party leaders let it happen. Why鈥檇 they do that, Beyer asked. 鈥淏ecause they believe that they can make her fail quicker than they can Matt DePerno.鈥
File Number One
A state political party is like the HVAC unit of American politics. When it does its job, you don鈥檛 think about it. It hums away in the background, as unsexy as it is essential. State parties recruit candidates to run for office. They mobilize voters. They raise money that helps candidates spread their message and win elections.
Karamo had other priorities when she took over the Michigan Republican Party. Top of the list: 鈥渆lection integrity.鈥 She created a new 鈥渆lection security operations鈥 team to recruit hundreds of volunteers as poll challengers, dropbox monitors and recount specialists, and to serve on county canvassing boards, which certify the final vote count. To oversee this work, she enlisted grassroots activists best known for filing a lawsuit that accused Detroit鈥檚 election clerk of running an 鈥渋llegal election鈥 in 2022. (A judge dismissed the case, calling it 鈥渇rivolous鈥 and 鈥渞ife with speculation.鈥) Training and embedding 鈥淎merica First鈥 activists in every part of the election process was critical to the future of the party and the state. 鈥淥therwise,鈥 one of Karamo鈥檚 advisers told a group of activists, 鈥渢he big money is going to come right back in and start doing all this for us and selecting all the candidates for us again.鈥
Karamo鈥檚 plan to 鈥渟ecure鈥 elections had two objectives: Not only did she and her team hope to catch future cheating by the Democrats, but they sought revenge against the Republican establishment. To do that, Karamo turned to a lawyer and political outsider named James Copas. He was given a special project: write a new constitution for the state Republican Party that would give as much power as possible to precinct delegates. People like Ken Beyer.
There was no greater priority for Karamo鈥檚 team. 鈥淚f you were to look in my records, I opened 82 different project files,鈥 Copas told me. 鈥淭he constitution was file number one.鈥
Karamo showed little interest in the day-to-day work of running the party. Bills went unpaid, emails unanswered. When members of the party鈥檚 state committee, in effect the board of directors, questioned her, she ignored them or removed them from leadership positions. Even her allies were critical. 鈥淚 can tell you unequivocally that there was no chance that Kristina was qualified to be the chair,鈥 Copas said. 鈥淪o what? She was elected.鈥 (Karamo did not respond to multiple requests for comment.)
Near the end of 2023, Copas circulated a draft of his proposed overhaul of the party constitution. The new constitution proposed a radical change: Eliminate open primary elections and replace them with closed caucuses. Under the current system, about a million people voted in an August GOP primary to choose nominees for local elected offices, state legislative seats, judgeships and federal House and Senate races. Instead of those million or so voters casting ballots, fewer than 10,000 precinct delegates 鈥 the same precinct delegates who had powered Karamo to victory 鈥 would meet behind closed doors and select the candidates.
The aim of this proposal, said Joel Studebaker, who was Karamo鈥檚 chief of staff, was to break up the 鈥渃orruption club鈥 that had ruled Michigan Republican politics for far too long. 鈥淲e want something that鈥檚 pure,鈥 he told me. 鈥淭he best answer for that is putting power in the hands of the people.鈥 The irony, critics pointed out, was that Karamo鈥檚 proposal would disenfranchise far more people than it empowered.
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There was another reason the closed-caucus model appealed to the 鈥淎merica First鈥 faithful: It meant there was no need for voting machines, mail-in ballots, high-speed scanners or any of the other technologies that election-fraud believers had spent the last two years railing against. 鈥淵ou鈥檙e eliminating cheating in the election system,鈥 Beyer told me.
The backlash was fierce. 鈥淣othing says 鈥榳e respect democracy鈥 like cutting out millions of Michigan voters,鈥 wrote one prominent Michigan conservative activist.
Karamo鈥檚 proposed voting reforms and the party鈥檚 dire finances plunged the organization into turmoil with the 2024 elections less than a year away. Even some of Karamo鈥檚 own supporters turned against her. Privately, a group of delegates discussed whether to urge her to step down for the good of the party. Karamo had no plans to resign. If her enemies wanted her gone, they would have to try to remove her.
And so they did: On Jan. 6, 2024, a group of anti-Karamo delegates on the Republican state committee invoked party bylaws and voted to remove Karamo as chair. Two weeks later, the same faction elected former U.S. representative Pete Hoekstra to replace her.
Up From the Ashes
By the time Trump walked onstage in Waterford Township, Michigan, in mid-February with his red hat pulled low, the Michigan Republican Party was a national punchline. Karamo had refused to leave office, saying the vote to oust her was 鈥渋llegitimate.鈥 An unsigned statement issued by the state GOP called it a 鈥減olitical lynching.鈥 Her critics filed a lawsuit in state court to enforce the removal vote, and Karamo said only a judge鈥檚 order could make her leave. In the meantime, she urged her followers to travel to Detroit on March 2 for a special convention. There, they would vote on her controversial plan to rewrite the Michigan GOP鈥檚 constitution.
At his mid-February rally, Trump waded into the chaotic mess that was the Michigan Republican Party despite his supporters urging him not to. He described Hoekstra as 鈥測our new Michigan Republican Party chairman,鈥 a line that was greeted with a mix of cheers and boos. The boos continued as Trump said he鈥檇 recommended Hoekstra for the job. 鈥淚 said, 鈥楧o you think you could ever get this guy Hoekstra? He鈥檚 unbelievable,鈥欌 Trump said.
The Trump campaign seemed to recognize that the longer Karamo remained in charge, the weaker the state party was and the less chance he had to win Michigan. For both Trump and Biden, Michigan is arguably a must-win state.
Still, some of Trump鈥檚 most ardent supporters saw his support for Hoekstra as a betrayal. 鈥淚鈥檓 not happy with Mr. Trump right now,鈥 one voter said at a Republican town hall I attended. 鈥淚 think he should keep his nose out of Michigan politics.鈥 When I asked Beyer what he thought, he said he suspected Trump was playing a double game. 鈥淚f you know anything about election integrity, you know it鈥檚 a rigged program here,鈥 he said. For Trump to win, 鈥渉e鈥檚 gotta join the riggers.鈥 I heard a Karamo supporter say she had read on 鈥淭ruth鈥 鈥 meaning Truth Social, the social media platform partly owned by Trump 鈥 that Trump hadn鈥檛 even written the endorsement of Hoekstra that appeared on his account.
Around the time of Trump鈥檚 visit to Michigan, I went to hear Karamo speak in Saginaw County, an hour and a half north of Detroit. The event was part of a barnstorming tour of the state meant to rally her supporters and assure them that she remained the party鈥檚 legitimate leader. To her supporters, the date of the vote to remove her, Jan. 6, 2024, had taken on a mythological quality 鈥 it was the new Jan. 6. Their Jan. 6. The audience sat rapt as Karamo told them that it wasn鈥檛 just 2020 and 2022 that were rigged. 鈥淥ur election system has been corrupted for decades. There鈥檚 an entire network protecting the corrupt system.鈥
At the end of her remarks, she reminded her supporters to go to Detroit on March 2. The date had taken on an outsize significance. Not only would delegates choose which presidential candidate received Michigan鈥檚 39 remaining delegates on the path to the Republican nomination, but they would vote on Karamo鈥檚 constitution plan. Hoekstra, who was calling himself the rightful chair, was planning a separate event on the same day in Grand Rapids. The schism in the party would be on full display.
A few days before the dueling conventions, a judge issued a preliminary ruling that Karamo had been properly removed. The Detroit convention was called off, and her constitutional overhaul was shelved for the time being. With Karamo鈥檚 event canceled, Beyer, now a regional GOP chairman as well as a delegate, said he would carry the torch for the 鈥淎merica First鈥 movement. In an act of defiance aimed at 鈥淎dolf鈥 Hoekstra, as Beyer called him, he and Studebaker announced their own miniconvention.
On the morning of March 2, Beyer picked me up at a Wendy鈥檚 on the drive to his breakaway convention. A deluge of text messages lit up his phone as we drove down the highway. Beyer told me that the theme for Hoekstra鈥檚 convention was 鈥淯p From the Ashes.鈥
鈥淚t鈥檚 fitting,鈥 he said. 鈥淏ecause they lit the match. They don鈥檛 like the new group of people that have come in over the last two years.鈥 He paused. 鈥淭hey鈥檙e burning down the Republican Party to get rid of people like me.鈥
After Beyer and Studebaker had run their protest convention, they jumped in Studebaker鈥檚 truck and drove to Hoekstra鈥檚 event in Grand Rapids. There, Studebaker ran into some operatives aligned with Trump鈥檚 team in Michigan. Studebaker was furious with them and with Trump for abandoning Karamo and for, as he saw it, thwarting the will of the delegates.
鈥淗e鈥檚 going to lose Michigan if he keeps doing this,鈥 Studebaker said. The delegates will still vote for Trump, he added, but they鈥檙e not going to knock doors and they鈥檙e not going to give money. They might tune out of state and national elections and focus on local races.
The operatives were unmoved. 鈥淲e gotta go,鈥 one of them said. 鈥淭rump stuff.鈥
A Future without Trump
Not long afterward, Trump disappointed his grassroots followers again. In Michigan鈥檚 high-stakes Republican Senate contest, Trump endorsed Mike Rogers, a former representative, all but assuring that Rogers would clinch the nomination in the August primary.
As for Peter Meijer, that throw-you-off-the-bridge exchange in the cafe in February had proved prophetic: His comeback bid was doomed. In late April, he dropped out.
Trump鈥檚 endorsement of Rogers left his supporters mystified. Like Meijer, he had been a vocal critic of Trump, once calling the former president 鈥渕ore gangster than presidential.鈥 He had chaired the powerful House intelligence committee, which led Trump followers to label him a member of the 鈥渄eep state.鈥 A former aide to Trump had tweeted: 鈥淐an鈥檛 imagine a worse or more dangerous 鈥楻epublican鈥 candidate for Senate than Mike Rogers.鈥
Jim Copas, who quit his role with the party shortly before Karamo was forced out, told me he was disgusted with Trump鈥檚 actions. 鈥淚鈥檝e lost complete faith in the state GOP and I鈥檝e lost complete faith in the national GOP,鈥 he said. Speaking of Trump, he added: 鈥淭o be honest, I think Don has learned a little bit about being a politician and he鈥檚 forgotten his soul.鈥
Beyer hadn鈥檛 given up on Trump. He still 鈥渓oved鈥 the man, he said, but he wasn鈥檛 taking direction from Trump. 鈥淚鈥檓 not gonna always listen to him,鈥 Beyer told me. 鈥淚鈥檓 not part of a cult.鈥
He had his own plans. In one of our last conversations, he laid out a more religious, more uncompromising version of the 鈥淎merica First鈥 movement. He had started his own PAC called Faith Family Freedom and he planned to target the precinct delegates around the state who had opposed Karamo and replace them with 鈥淎merica First鈥 allies in the next round of delegate elections this August. He had already signed up 350 supporters in various counties, he said, to help with his efforts.
If the Republican establishment 鈥 the DeVoses and the Meijers, Pete Hoekstra and the people who had voted to remove Karamo 鈥 fought him and his compatriots, Beyer stood ready. 鈥淭hey鈥檙e not after Trump. They鈥檙e not after Kristina,鈥 he told me. 鈥淭hey鈥檙e after me. They鈥檙e after everybody like me. That鈥檚 what this is all about.鈥
Originally by , 05.22.2024, under a license.