When someone hears the word “Republican,” what image do they create?
According to the Pew Research Center, a public opinion polling agency, a typical Republican has a 70 percent chance of being Mormon, a 68% chance of being a white evangelical Protestant (in other words, belonging to a majority white denomination), a 55 percent chance of being a white southerner and a 51 percent chance of being a married man.
Demographically, a stereotypical Republican is a deeply religious Southern white male who is married and likely has a family. On a more personal level, he watches Fox News, owns a gun, and lives in the suburb or the country.
He believes in small government, lower taxes and a largely interventionist foreign policy. He might describe himself as introverted and as having simple wants and needs.
His ideological opponents, however, would dispute this genteel, laid-back perception. To Democrats, a Republican is someone who doesn’t care for anyone but him- or herself, least of all poor people and ethnic minorities (though many self-identified conservatives express support for same-sex marriage, an indicator of social openness) and who is averse to facts and realities about the world.
The most important component of the Republican persona is that he or she always votes Republican, no matter how unsavory or unqualified the candidate.
For many Democrats, the election of Donald Trump last year proved this last point. If Republicans could not stop an indecent neophyte from winning the presidency because they refused to vote for a Democrat, the thinking goes, who wouldn’t they elect? There is some truth to this.
Trump is not a conservative in the mold of Ronald Reagan or even Paul Ryan. Trump is wishy-washy on tax policy, advocates social controls that most Republicans have abandoned, and seems to despise foreign relations where John McCain and Lindsey Graham types embrace a strong U.S. presence abroad.
He is loud and blustering and feels out of place in a room that is not solid gold. The only Republican aspect of Trump’s personality is his disdain for disadvantaged groups and for the truth. In other words, Trump has all the baggage of the Republican label without the positive ideals conservatives attribute to themselves.
Still, Trump looks like the next Franklin Roosevelt compared to Roy Moore, the Republican candidate for Senate in Alabama.
The seat for which he is running was made empty when Jeff Sessions was nominated to be Trump’s attorney general. Before being a candidate, Moore was the chief justice of the Alabama supreme court, where he made clear that he would not let such documents as the U.S. and Alabama constitutions interfere with his founding of a Christian utopia.
He has been suspended twice from the role of chief justice, once for refusing to remove a monument of the Ten Commandments from the supreme court grounds and once for instructing lower-level judges to ignore the U.S. Supreme Court’s order to lift bans on same-sex marriage in 2015.
As if his incredible self-righteousness weren’t enough, in the past week, five women have accused Moore of sexually harassing or assaulting them while they were in their teens and he was in his thirties.
Republicans, just like everyone else, reject the stereotypes imposed upon them. But if they elect Roy Moore to the Senate, they are simply adding fuel to Democrats’ fire by proving that they will vote for anyone with an R at the end of their title.
For Moore to become a Senator would signal to voters that the Republican party really has lost itself.