Stephanie Muravchik

An insightful examination of intra-party conflict in Wyoming, revealing a fundamental disagreement between Republicans that will determine the future of the American right. No state has been more Republican and loyal to Donald Trump than Wyoming. The appearance of homogeneity, though, masks a fierce battle for the future of the party. In The Republican Civil War, Stephanie Muravchik and Jon A. Shields draw on years of on-the-ground research and dozens of interviews with elected officials and activists, finding a party divided over whether it should abandon its traditional focus on governance for a new nationalized form of identity politics. While old guard Republicans aim to solve local problems within an ethos of noblesse oblige, MAGA insurgents position themselves as "true conservatives" leading a censorious crusade against the establishment. More surprisingly, the same social cleavages that divide red and blue American--class and ruralness--shape this civil war. Most of the new insurgents in the legislature don't have college degrees and see themselves as part of a rural uprising. By shedding light on a civil war in the deepest of red states, this book not only advances our understanding of the new conservative politics of identity, it also offers a clear portrait of a GOP establishment resisting--not just capitulating--to Trumpism.

An insightful examination of intra-party conflict in Wyoming, revealing a fundamental disagreement between Republicans that will determine the future of the American right. No state has been more Republican and loyal to Donald Trump than Wyoming. The appearance of homogeneity, though, masks a fierce battle for the future of the party. In The Republican Civil War, Stephanie Muravchik and Jon A. Shields draw on years of on-the-ground research and dozens of interviews with elected officials and activists, finding a party divided over whether it should abandon its traditional focus on governance for a new nationalized form of identity politics. While old guard Republicans aim to solve local problems within an ethos of noblesse oblige, MAGA insurgents position themselves as "true conservatives" leading a censorious crusade against the establishment. More surprisingly, the same social cleavages that divide red and blue American--class and ruralness--shape this civil war. Most of the new insurgents in the legislature don't have college degrees and see themselves as part of a rural uprising. By shedding light on a civil war in the deepest of red states, this book not only advances our understanding of the new conservative politics of identity, it also offers a clear portrait of a GOP establishment resisting--not just capitulating--to Trumpism.

Why did hundreds of Democratic strongholds break for Donald Trump in 2016 and stay loyal to him in 2020? Looking for answers, Muravchik and Shields lived in three such “flipped” communities. There they discovered a political culture that was Trumpy long before the 45th president arrived on the national political scene. In these places, dominated by the white working-class, some of the most beloved and longest-serving Democratic leaders are themselves Trumpian—grandiose, combative, thin-skinned, and nepotistic. Indifferent to ideology, they promise to take care of “their people” by cutting deals—and corners if needed. Stressing loyalty, they often turn to family to fill critical political roles. Trump, resembling these old-style Democratic bosses, strikes a familiar and appealing figure in these communities. Although voters in “flipped” communities have often been portrayed as white supremacists, Muravchik and Shields find that their primary political allegiances are to place—not race. They will spend an extra dollar to patronize local businesses, and they think local jobs should go to their neighbors, not “foreigners” from neighboring counties—who are just as likely to be white and native-born. Unlike the Proud Boys, they take more pride in their local communities than in their skin color. Trump successfully courted these Democrats by promising to revitalize their struggling hometowns. Because these communities largely stuck with Trump in 2020, Biden won the presidency by just the thinnest of margins. Whether they will continue to support a Republican Party without Trump—or swing back to the Democrats—depends in part on which party can satisfy these locally grown political tastes and values. The party that does that will enjoy a stranglehold in national elections for years to come.

Many have worried that the ubiquitous practice of psychology and psychotherapy in America has corrupted religious faith, eroded civic virtue and weakened community life. But an examination of the history of three major psycho-spiritual movements since World War II – Alcoholics Anonymous, The Salvation Army's outreach to homeless men, and the 'clinical pastoral education' movement – reveals the opposite. These groups developed a practical religious psychology that nurtured faith, fellowship and personal responsibility. They achieved this by including religious traditions and spiritual activities in their definition of therapy and by putting clergy and lay believers to work as therapists. Under such care, spiritual and emotional growth reinforced each other. Thanks to these innovations, the three movements succeeded in reaching millions of socially alienated and religiously disenchanted Americans. They demonstrated that religion and psychology, although antithetical in some eyes, could be blended effectively to foster community, individual responsibility and happier lives.