Adam Kinzinger, one of the few House Republicans who voted to impeach Trump over 1/6, and one of two who served on the 1/6 committee, is the subject of a documentary.
Andrew O'Hehir writes:
Kinzinger was a six-term Republican congressman from Illinois and, by any reasonable measure, a staunch conservative who supported Donald Trump's agenda during his first term more than 90 percent of the time. But after Jan. 6, 2021, Kinzinger belonged to a small and dwindling number of GOP members of Congress who turned on Trump and never recanted. He voted to impeach Trump (who had already left office, however reluctantly) and then voted to create the select committee that held a series of dramatic hearings throughout 2022.
Kinzinger tells director Steve Pink in the new documentary "The Last Republican" that he hoped then-Speaker Nancy Pelosi wouldn't ask him to serve on the committee. In fact, that question was never asked: Pelosi called to tell Kinzinger he'd been appointed, probably understanding that as the ultimate all-American straight arrow — a former Air Force lieutenant colonel who earned six medals for combat service in Iraq and Afghanistan — he wouldn't say no. Unlike the only other Republican member of that panel, Rep. Liz Cheney of Wyoming, Kinzinger grasped the consequences right away: His political career was over.
Kinzinger didn't run for re-election in 2022, and wouldn't have been eligible for the Republican Party's endorsement if he had. As "The Last Republican" details, he and Cheney were both censured by the party and effectively expelled; on a personal level, many of Kinzinger's former colleagues, friends and extended family members no longer speak to him. As Pink's overly ironic title suggests, Kinzinger finds himself in a lonely place that, depending on your perspective, is either, noble, pathetic or ridiculous. While the irony of Pink's title is arguably heavy-handed, Kinzinger really does see himself as one of the few genuine standard-bearers for Reagan-era conservatism, forced to ally himself — very likely for the rest of his life — with a fractured, disunited and defeated opposition, most of whose policies he does not support.
To be clear, that last clause refers to the Democrats. I met Adam Kinzinger in Salon's New York studio about two weeks after Donald Trump won the presidential election, an outcome he had labored to prevent. I liked him immensely. He agreed to make this movie because Pink had directed "Hot Tub Time Machine," and let's be honest — that's the sort of connection that can transcend disagreements about any number of allegedly substantive issues. It's a profound cliché to describe someone of a different political or religious persuasion as "decent," but I can't avoid it: This lifelong true believer in the values of American right-wing politics, struck me as both decent and kind.
KINZINGER: I think what it means now to be a Republican is just that you're driven by anger. You're driven by division. If you look at the Republican Party and ask what are the unifying principles, most people will go back to the old days of Ronald Reagan and say, "Oh, we're for smaller government, a powerful military." But if you look at it, no, we're not. They're for spending even more than Joe Biden spent. They are for ceding Ukraine to Russia, which would have been anathema to the Republican Party just a few years ago. I think what they stand for is supporting culture war, rage, and one person, one personality, and that's Donald Trump. Now, they'll never admit it, but that's the reality of it.
Now, what's the future of the GOP? Can it be saved? I don't know. I don't think the GOP can be saved in the near term, but I don't think we should give up on it. Because the reality is that there's probably forever only going to be two major parties in this country, and the Republican Party will be one of them. We can either write it off and lose elections, with such consequences as we've just had, or we can continue to fight inside. That's why I still call myself a Republican, even though I haven't voted Republican in four years. I haven't changed. I'll continue to fight for the soul of that party. It may take 10 or 15 years, maybe 20. Maybe never. But we have to fight for that.
Andrew O'Hehir writes:
Kinzinger was a six-term Republican congressman from Illinois and, by any reasonable measure, a staunch conservative who supported Donald Trump's agenda during his first term more than 90 percent of the time. But after Jan. 6, 2021, Kinzinger belonged to a small and dwindling number of GOP members of Congress who turned on Trump and never recanted. He voted to impeach Trump (who had already left office, however reluctantly) and then voted to create the select committee that held a series of dramatic hearings throughout 2022.
Kinzinger tells director Steve Pink in the new documentary "The Last Republican" that he hoped then-Speaker Nancy Pelosi wouldn't ask him to serve on the committee. In fact, that question was never asked: Pelosi called to tell Kinzinger he'd been appointed, probably understanding that as the ultimate all-American straight arrow — a former Air Force lieutenant colonel who earned six medals for combat service in Iraq and Afghanistan — he wouldn't say no. Unlike the only other Republican member of that panel, Rep. Liz Cheney of Wyoming, Kinzinger grasped the consequences right away: His political career was over.
Kinzinger didn't run for re-election in 2022, and wouldn't have been eligible for the Republican Party's endorsement if he had. As "The Last Republican" details, he and Cheney were both censured by the party and effectively expelled; on a personal level, many of Kinzinger's former colleagues, friends and extended family members no longer speak to him. As Pink's overly ironic title suggests, Kinzinger finds himself in a lonely place that, depending on your perspective, is either, noble, pathetic or ridiculous. While the irony of Pink's title is arguably heavy-handed, Kinzinger really does see himself as one of the few genuine standard-bearers for Reagan-era conservatism, forced to ally himself — very likely for the rest of his life — with a fractured, disunited and defeated opposition, most of whose policies he does not support.
To be clear, that last clause refers to the Democrats. I met Adam Kinzinger in Salon's New York studio about two weeks after Donald Trump won the presidential election, an outcome he had labored to prevent. I liked him immensely. He agreed to make this movie because Pink had directed "Hot Tub Time Machine," and let's be honest — that's the sort of connection that can transcend disagreements about any number of allegedly substantive issues. It's a profound cliché to describe someone of a different political or religious persuasion as "decent," but I can't avoid it: This lifelong true believer in the values of American right-wing politics, struck me as both decent and kind.
KINZINGER: I think what it means now to be a Republican is just that you're driven by anger. You're driven by division. If you look at the Republican Party and ask what are the unifying principles, most people will go back to the old days of Ronald Reagan and say, "Oh, we're for smaller government, a powerful military." But if you look at it, no, we're not. They're for spending even more than Joe Biden spent. They are for ceding Ukraine to Russia, which would have been anathema to the Republican Party just a few years ago. I think what they stand for is supporting culture war, rage, and one person, one personality, and that's Donald Trump. Now, they'll never admit it, but that's the reality of it.
Now, what's the future of the GOP? Can it be saved? I don't know. I don't think the GOP can be saved in the near term, but I don't think we should give up on it. Because the reality is that there's probably forever only going to be two major parties in this country, and the Republican Party will be one of them. We can either write it off and lose elections, with such consequences as we've just had, or we can continue to fight inside. That's why I still call myself a Republican, even though I haven't voted Republican in four years. I haven't changed. I'll continue to fight for the soul of that party. It may take 10 or 15 years, maybe 20. Maybe never. But we have to fight for that.
