Vox
By Andrew Prokop
July 20, 2015
In
April 2013, Governor John Kasich of Ohio spoke at a gathering of
wealthy conservative donors hosted by the Koch brothers in Palm Springs.
Around 20 people in the audience
stood up and walked out on him.
At
the time, Kasich was battling his own party over whether to accept
Obamacare's Medicaid expansion. Since the federal government had
promised to shoulder the vast majority
of its cost, a few Republican governors in other states had started to
sign on, for pragmatic reasons.
But
none had done so quite like Kasich. Again and again, the Ohioan made an
argument rarely heard from a Republican politician — that Medicaid had
to be expanded to help
the poor. Not only was it the smart and right thing to do, Kasich said,
it was the Christian thing to do. And then he went further, suggesting
that supporters of limited government had to do more to help the less
fortunate.
So
as Kasich spoke on a panel during the Palm Springs conference, a donor —
Randy Kendrick, wife of the wealthy owner of the Arizona Diamondbacks —
pushed back. "A lady
was yelling at me, saying, 'you're using God against your people,'"
Kasich later recounted.
Irritated,
the governor refused to backpedal. "I don’t know about you, lady. But
when I get to the pearly gates, I’m going to have an answer for what
I’ve done for the
poor," he said, according to Politico's Alex Isenstadt.
That's
when audience members started walking out, while the other governors on
the panel — Bobby Jindal and Nikki Haley — rushed to emphasize their
disagreement with Kasich.
The governor later told the Wall Street Journal's Neil King Jr. that
the incident was "unforgettable," adding, "I really shouldn't speak
about it, other than to say, 'God bless people who go to those events.'"
Kasich told the New York Times that his own party was waging a "war on the poor"
The
consensus of the modern GOP is that trying to help the poor through
government spending is ineffective or even counterproductive.
Republicans simply don't argue that
more government spending is a good way to help people — that's viewed
as something liberals say. "It's the sort of straw man that I think
President Obama would be impressed by," says Jason Hart, an Ohioan
reporter for the conservative site Watchdog.org.
So
Kasich's enthusiastic adoption of moral and religious rhetoric to
promote a key plank of Obamacare was extremely unusual — and he took it
quite seriously. He said that
year that his "most important mission" was to convince conservatives
that "when some of us are doing better, it is essential that we begin to
figure out how to help people who are not doing better." His own party,
he told the New York Times, was waging a "war
on the poor."
As
he's prepared for a presidential campaign — which he'll officially
announce Tuesday — he hasn't backed off, instead arguing that his views
are the truly conservative
ones. "Read Matthew 25," Kasich said on Fox News a few months back.
"Did you feed the hungry? Did you clothe the naked? If we're doing
things like that, to me that is conservatism." He then bristled: "And
you know what? I have a right to define conservatism
as much as somebody sitting up in the stands down in Washington trying
to tell us what we ought to do."
It's
an agenda that's made Kasich — whose team didn't respond to requests
for comment for this article — quite popular in Ohio. And his landslide
re-election last year
in one of the most important presidential swing states has made some
think he could be a strong GOP presidential nominee.
But
to supporters of government spending reductions, from the Koch brothers
to Tea Party activists, rhetoric like Kasich's is quite dangerous.
Because if you argue so
passionately that federal spending programs really help people, those
programs become quite hard to cut.
As a Congressman, John Kasich was a lot like Paul Ryan
In
1995, John Kasich (right) strategized with Senate Majority Leader Bob
Dole (left) and House Speaker Newt Gingrich (center) over budget cuts.
There
was little about Kasich's decades-long political career that suggested
he'd boast such a fervor for expanding Medicaid. Instead, he's only
slowly transformed himself
from the very face of Republican budget-cutting — the Paul Ryan of his
day — to someone who argues that supporters of limited government aren't
doing enough to help the poor.
Kasich
first rose to national prominence because he produced detailed spending
reform plans that Washington deemed serious. When he joined the House
Budget Committee in
1989 as a junior member, he immediately began drafting and releasing
his own budget each year, complete with far more dramatic spending cuts
than those proposed by the Bush White House budget. He built up so much
credibility that, like the similarly young
and energetic Paul Ryan, he leapfrogged several more senior colleagues
to become the Budget Committee chair after the GOP retook the House in
1994. He was 42 years old — the youngest committee chair in the chamber.
Kasich named his dog after a budget-cutting bill he had co-written
By
all accounts, Kasich was obsessively committed to the task of slashing
government spending. The Associated Press called him "a divorced
workaholic" who "subsists mostly
on pizza and instant noodle soup," and Cox News Service wrote that he
had "little personal life." When a spending cut bill he authored with
Democratic Rep. Timothy Penny became famous in DC as the "Penny-Kasich"
proposal, Kasich named his dog after it. But
unlike Paul Ryan, whose political persona is unfailingly cheerful and
polite, Kasich has always had a harsher edge. Words like "headstrong,"
"brash," and "argumentative," fill profiles of him. (He hasn't softened
up as governor, where his prickliness has become
the stuff of legend.)
As
part of Kasich's effort to cut spending, he challenged some of
Washington's entrenched interest groups — from defense hawks to
protectors of farm subsidies and corporate
tax breaks. He achieved only mixed success on those fronts, and his
proposals for ambitious reforms of entitlements — like block granting
Medicaid — didn't get off the ground at all. But eventually, he helped
broker the 1997 balanced budget agreement between
President Clinton and congressional Republicans. The budget didn't stay
balanced long, but it's an achievement Kasich still touts today.
Still,
the ambitious young Congressman wanted to rise even further. He
announced in 1999 that he'd explore a presidential campaign, and spent
months on the trail in early
primary states. Once there, however, he concluded that his obsessive
focus on budget-cutting was misplaced, and that a Republican candidate
needed a message with broader appeal to get elected. "The public is not
yelling for spending cuts," he told the Associated
Press. He tried to mention his faith and religious convictions more
often, so he wouldn't be viewed as only a stingy accountant.
It
didn't work. George W. Bush raised far more money, and firmly
entrenched himself as the frontrunner in the polls. Kasich concluded he
couldn't win, and quit the race
that July. Term-limited out of his budget chairmanship, he also decided
not to run for another term in the House. Recently remarried and
expecting his first child, Kasich was ready for a break from politics.
He said, modestly, "I accomplished everything I
ever set out to accomplish in the House of Representatives."
But
as he endorsed Bush, Kasich couldn't resist expressing some envy in
response to Bush's campaign message. "This business of compassionate
conservative," he said. "I
wish I'd thought it up."
As Governor of Ohio, Kasich started out looking like Scott Walker
In
March 2011, his third month as governor, Kasich signed a major bill to
roll back public sector workers' collective bargaining rights.
But
by the time Kasich finally returned to politics in 2010 — after an
interim working at Lehman Brothers, as well as hosting a Fox News show —
the Tea Party was in ascendance,
and far-right economic policies were back in vogue. Since Ohio's
economy was badly damaged by the recession, Kasich decided to take on
the incumbent Gov. Ted Strickland. During the campaign, Kasich pointed
to his own anti-tax, anti-spending record, saying,
"I think I was in the Tea Party before there was a Tea Party."
He
won, and when he was sworn in the next January, it looked like he was
ready to govern from the right. Near the top of his agenda was a bill to
roll back collective
bargaining for public employees, like Scott Walker's platform in
Wisconsin. "We're not going after anybody's rights," Kasich said at a
press conference. "What we're doing is we're balancing, restoring some
power with taxpayers." As hundreds of protesters flooded
into the statehouse, Kasich lobbied reluctant state senators to back
the bill and helped it pass, as reported by Henry Gomez of the Northeast
Ohio Media Group in "Kasich 5.0," the definitive profile series on the
governor.
"No one has tried this level of reform, that I’m aware of in the country, including Wisconsin," Kasich bragged
On
March 31, 2011, Kasich signed the reforms into law — and in many ways,
the final package went further than Walker's. While Ohio public
employees could still bargain
over wages, they could no longer bargain over health care or pensions.
"Ohio’s law also gives city councils and school boards a free hand to
unilaterally impose their side’s final contract offer when management
and union fail to reach a settlement," the New
York Times' Steven Greenhouse wrote. And the bill applied to police and
firefighters, who were exempted from Walker's law. "No one has tried
this level of reform, that I’m aware of in the country, including
Wisconsin," Kasich bragged.
The
backlash was swift and severe. Kasich's approval-disapproval rating
plummeted to 30-46. And, unlike in Wisconsin, the union
countermobilization in Ohio was actually
successful. In the Badger State, there was no way unions could get the
law itself put up for a statewide vote of approval or disapproval. But
Ohio's constitution allowed them to do so, if enough signatures were
gathered — a task they soon accomplished. Though
Kasich campaigned in favor of the law, when the state's voters cast
their ballots in November 2011 he lost overwhelmingly, 61 to 38.
Kasich's
signature first-year achievement had been wiped out. "It's time to
pause," he said at a news conference. "The people have spoken clearly."
Asked what they said,
the governor responded: "They might have said it was too much too
soon."
Kasich embraced Medicaid expansion with a convert's zeal
Over
a year later, when Kasich announced that he'd expand Medicaid, he
sounded like a new man. "I'm not a supporter of Obamacare," the governor
said when he announced
his decision during his 2013 State of the State address. But, he
continued, "my personal faith in the lessons I learned from the Good
Book" is "very important to me — not just on Sunday, but just about
every day."
During
his speech, delivered at the Veterans Memorial Civic Center in Lima,
Ohio, the governor argued that the working poor, the mentally ill, and
the addicted — the people
who need help most — would benefit from his decision. "They can't
afford health care. What are we going to do, leave them out in the
street? Walk away from them, when we have a chance to help them?" He
continued: "For those that live in the shadows of life,
those who are the least among us, I will not accept the fact that the
most vulnerable in our state should be ignored. We can help them."
When
the US Supreme Court had effectively made the Medicaid expansion
optional for states in 2012, governors across the country were faced
with a choice about whether
to accept federal dollars to expand Medicaid to everyone whose income
was lower than 138 percent of the federal poverty line. In Kasich's
case, this number was estimated to include 366,000 Ohioans.
Supporters
of the Medicaid expansion argued that it would be the only affordable
way for many low-income people to obtain health insurance. That's
because Obamacare's
design creates a coverage gap — people with incomes below the federal
poverty level made too little money to qualify for subsidized private
insurance from the exchanges, but didn't qualify for traditional
Medicaid.
It
was the percentage of the expansion that would be paid for by the feds,
though, that was most relevant to many governors concerned with their
bottom line. For three
years, states would pay nothing at all — and the federal government
would pay 90 percent or more of the expansion's cost afterward.
Furthermore, states seemed to get nothing out of saying no — if a state
refused to participate, its residents' federal tax dollars
would still go toward funding the expansion elsewhere.
To
many governors and policy wonks across the country — including Kasich —
the expansion seemed to be a no-brainer. And the governor believed he
could implement it in
a free market way. He proposed to apply for a special waiver from the
federal government, so Ohio could give the new beneficiaries private —
not government — insurance. To him, the right thing to do also appeared
to be the smart thing to do.
When his own party resisted, Kasich rammed the expansion through
But
within days of Kasich's announcement, Ohio Republicans and Tea Party
groups started lining up to oppose his plan. "There is no free money,"
Josh Mandel, the Republican
State Treasurer and a conservative favorite, wrote in a letter urging
state legislators to vote against the expansion. "In the long term
Ohioans will have to repay the debt." Soon, two dozen Tea Party groups
in the state wrote a similar missive. "Borrowing
taxpayer dollars to pay for an expanded entitlement program does not
solve the long term problem of affordable health care," Marianne
Gasiecki of the Ohio Tea Party Patriots told the Associated Press.
"People who believe we shouldn’t spend more money than we have were opposed to it"
Nationally,
many conservatives had turned against the Medicaid expansion too. Some
critics objected that the federal government couldn't be trusted to
deliver on its generous
funding promises, and that states might be stuck footing more of the
bills in future years. Others argued that Medicaid provided inferior
insurance that should be reformed rather than expanded — or that federal
spending simply shouldn't be expanded at all.
"The
Medicaid expansion was supported by all the business groups and the
unions," says Hart, the Watchdog.org reporter who has frequently
criticized the governor. "So
Kasich and his supporters describe the opposition as just ideological —
and to an extent, that's true. People who believe in limited
government, people who believe we shouldn’t spend more money than we
have, were opposed to it. Because we saw it as a bad policy
that would increase the spending problem we had at the national level."
Ohio
Rising, a Tea Party group, soon launched an ad campaign with "TV,
radio, direct mail and online advertising to urge Republican primary
voters in key legislative districts
to press lawmakers to oppose the expansion plan," as reported by Jackie
Borchardt of the Dayton Daily News. "We sincerely believe this is
really bad for Ohio and really bad for the long-term financial stability
of Ohio," Chris Littleton, the group's head,
told her.
The
result? By April, House Speaker William Batchelder (R) said 20 members
of his caucus "might shoot themselves" rather than vote for Medicaid
expansion. He ended up
dropping Kasich's Medicaid plan from the budget entirely, and the state
Senate decided not to include it either.
But
when faced with this opposition, Kasich only grew more obstinate and
determined. "I will not give up this fight till we get this done.
Period. Exclamation point,"
he told reporters. "I'm not gonna give this up. I will not. I don’t
care how long it takes."
"Reagan was fiscally responsible, but he was also pragmatic and compassionate"
So
the governor soon launched a remarkable public pressure campaign aimed
at the recalcitrant legislators. At one rally, he said, "You must rally
your friends and family
to go and see them, and to make it clear that saying ‘no’ is not an
option." At another: "Kick them in the shins if they're not going to
vote for this." To reporters: "Because people are poor doesn't mean they
don't work hard... The most important thing for
this legislature to think about: Put yourself in somebody else’s shoes.
Put yourself in the shoes of a mother and a father with an adult child
that's struggling. Walk in somebody else’s moccasins. Understand that
poverty is real."
All
this was to no avail — by the fall, it was clear that the legislature
wouldn't budge. So Kasich simply moved ahead without them.
In
October 2013, the governor announced that he would bypass the full
legislature and expand Medicaid through a highly unusual maneuver. He'd
go to a state body called
the "Controlling Board," which was created to handle adjustments to the
state's budgetary flow, and ask them to simply decide to let the
federal Medicaid money come in. (This tactic forced him to drop his
attempt to use private insurance to cover the new beneficiaries,
which would have required legislative approval.)
In
an op-ed explaining his decision, Kasich wrapped himself in the banner
of a conservative hero: "Reagan was fiscally responsible, but he was
also pragmatic and compassionate,"
he wrote. "When we consider what Reagan would do, let's also remember
what he did do — expand Medicaid."
But
activists like Tim Phillips — the head of Americans for Prosperity, a
free market group founded by and closely tied to the Koch brothers —
pushed back hard. "We think
it’s pretty outrageous that a governor would then go around the elected
representatives of the people and go to an unelected board," Phillips
told the Los Angeles Times.
"I am so excited about the fact that we have been able to reach out to many people who had been forgotten"
The
Controlling Board, staffed by one appointee from the governor and six
others appointed by the legislative leadership (four Republicans and two
Democrats), was a convenient
— if legally questionable — vehicle for ramming the expansion through.
It was typically used for much more minor projects. Yet the votes of
Kasich's appointee and the two appointees from Democratic leaders were
never in doubt. And when the two appointees from
Republican House Speaker William Batchelder looked like they'd vote no,
Batchelder simply replaced them. The final count was 5-2 in favor.
As
with many things related to Obamacare, the new policy soon became
entangled in legal wrangling. Two conservative groups and six Republican
legislators filed a suit
arguing that Kasich's maneuver was illegal and overstretched the
Controlling Board's authority. But though the case went to Ohio's
Supreme Court, the governor's move was upheld. "Obviously, we're pleased
with the court's ruling," Kasich's spokesperson Rob
Nichols said at the time, "and glad that Ohio can now move forward."
Kasich
had won. The expansion was implemented, and by the end of 2014, it had
let hundreds of thousands more Ohioans get Medicaid. At the same time,
Kasich's popularity
rebounded — in one poll, 55 percent of Ohioans approved of his job
performance, and only 30 percent disapproved. And while campaigning for
re-election in 2014, he was also fortunate enough to have his Democratic
challenger implode in scandal. It was a landslide
year for Republicans everywhere, but especially for Kasich — he ended
up with a massive 31 point victory.
"I
am so excited about the fact that we have been able to reach out to
many people who had been forgotten," Kasich said in his victory speech.
"Whether they're the mentally
ill, or whether they're the drug addicted, or whether they're the
working poor."
"Nothing
good is ever lost," Kasich continued. "Anything you ever do to lift
someone else, to give them a chance, to improve their lives, to give
them some hope — if it's
just one person — it will be recorded in the book of life. And will
follow you through eternity."
Kasich's challenge to the GOP: What will you tell St. Peter?
What
Kasich did will certainly follow him through the Republican primaries,
where he'll begin his campaign as a serious underdog. This week, he'll
be the 16th GOP candidate
to enter the race. He's currently ranked around 12th place in national
polls, and hasn't yet topped three percent in a single one. As a result,
he may well fail to qualify for the first debates.
On
paper, Kasich appears to present an appealing profile for any
Republicans seeking an accomplished but less polarizing alternative to
Jeb Bush and Scott Walker. Ohio
is a key swing state, and Kasich remains quite popular there, fresh off
his landslide win. He also has some financial support: An outside group
supporting him has raised $11.5 million so far — not Bush money, but
enough for a healthily funded pro-Kasich ad
campaign to start airing in New Hampshire, aimed at driving up his
numbers in the early primary state that's most crucial to his chances.
"[St. Peter] is going to ask you what you did for the poor. You better have a good answer"
Additionally,
Kasich would be one of the only candidates seriously suggesting that
the GOP moderate on economic issues. After the 2012 elections, party
elites quickly
concluded that their problems could be solved by moderating on
immigration policy — but commentators like Ross Douthat and David Frum
pointed to the GOP economic agenda instead, arguing it was too oriented
toward the wealthy. Kasich's approach may not be quite
what they had in mind, but if his success in Ohio is any indication,
swing voters might like it.
The
risk for a candidate like Kasich is that he could end up like Jon
Huntsman, the former Utah governor and 2012 presidential candidate who
couldn't restrain himself
from repeatedly pointing out how wrong he thought the Republican base
was about everything. Huntsman's campaign, unsurprisingly, went nowhere.
(Two key consultants for the infamously dysfunctional effort have now
joined Kasich's team.)
The
danger is real, because there's already some serious resentment for
Kasich and his tactics among conservatives. If Kasich runs for
president, the Washington Examiner's
Philip Klein wrote earlier this year, "it will be important for
conservative voters to punish him for his expansion of President Obama's
healthcare law." Klein continued: "Just like a liberal demagogue, he
portrayed those with principled objections to spending
more taxpayer money on a failing program as being heartless."
Conservative
health wonk Avik Roy concurred. "He’s really calling into question the
character and the motivation of those who disagree with him on the
Medicaid expansion,
pretty much literally saying that you’re going to rot in hell if you
didn’t agree," Roy told the Columbus Dispatch in March. "I would say
that it’s highly probable that many conservative Christians will be
offended [to hear] that they’re not good Christians
if they don’t support a massive expansion of government health care."
(Roy later took a job with Rick Perry.)
"I
think it's pretty offensive, frankly," says Hart, the Watchdog.org
reporter. "He's expanding this federal welfare program, taking more
money from taxpayers, funneling
it through the government, and running it through this pretty
ineffective Medicaid program. And he's treating it as if it’s morally
and practically the same thing as taking your own money and choosing to
give it out in your community where you see a need."
These
critics are correct that there's an element of incoherence to Kasich's
argument, when viewed in philosophical terms. It seems to not really gel
with his overall,
decades-long project of slashing government and taxes — and, of course,
with his continued advocacy for the repeal of Obamacare. It's also not
entirely clear, for instance, whether the moral imperative to help the
least fortunate only kicks in if the federal
government happens to be footing the bill for your state.
But
by acknowledging that Obamacare's Medicaid expansion really does help a
great many people, Kasich sees himself as recognizing an obvious fact
that other conservatives
contort themselves to deny. And he's also contradicting the widely held
belief on the right that government can't do anything good.
The pointed sales pitch he described himself making to a legislator in 2013 doubles as his challenge to the GOP as a whole:
I
said, "I respect the fact that you believe in small government. I do,
too. I also happen to know that you're a person of faith. Now, when you
die and get to the meeting
with St. Peter, he's probably not going to ask you much about what you
did about keeping government small. But he is going to ask you what you
did for the poor. You better have a good answer. "
Yet
not everyone appears to be buying what Kasich is selling. Charles Koch
announced in April that he'd winnowed the burgeoning GOP field to five
main contenders. Kasich,
unsurprisingly, wasn't among them.
And as for wealthy Koch donor network events like the one Kasich caused such a stir at? He hasn't been invited back.
For more information, go to: www.beverlyhillsimmigrationlaw.com
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