I'm Not a Me-Too Republican

During his life, Barry Goldwater was called “Mr. Republican,” a “GOP Hero,” “the father of modern American conservativism,” and “the hero of America’s conservative movement.” In one sense, the label was accurate—Goldwater was a fervent anticommunist who believed in small government and states’ rights. But Goldwater held his Republican identity unusually lightly. At his very first rally for his Senate campaign, he announced, “I’m not a me-too Republican,” warning his audience that he wouldn’t fall in line if he didn’t agree with the party.3

It was a campaign promise he would keep for his whole career.

In the 1970s, when Republican president Richard Nixon fell under scrutiny for illegal wiretapping and other crimes, Goldwater publicly urged him to be honest. When the White House tried to portray the investigation as a partisan effort by the Democrats to smear the president, Goldwater defended the integrity of the Democratic senator leading the investigation (“I haven’t detected a partisan statement yet from him”).4 And when Nixon continued to stonewall as the evidence against him mounted, it was Goldwater who led a delegation to the White House to inform Nixon that he had lost the support of both the House and the Senate, and should count on being convicted. Nixon resigned the next day.5

In the 1980s, when Republican president Ronald Reagan claimed he had been unaware of the Iran-Contra Affair, Goldwater was skeptical and said so. A journalist who covered the Goldwater beat during that time remembered, “That was typical Goldwater—letting his perception of the truth prevail over partisanship or friendship.”6

Although Goldwater never abandoned his core conservative principles, his views on specific issues did occasionally change. He came to see gay rights as logically entailed by his own principles: “You don’t have to agree with it, but they have a constitutional right to be gay,” Goldwater said.7 That did not endear him to his fellow conservatives. Neither did his decision to support abortion in the 1980s, when he voted to defend the Supreme Court’s pro-choice ruling in Roe v. Wade.

In 1994, Democratic president Bill Clinton was under investigation for suspicious investments in the Whitewater Development Corporation. Republicans charged that he and his wife, Hillary Clinton, had been involved in serious crimes, including fraud. By this point Goldwater was an eighty-five-year-old with a head of white hair who leaned on a cane for support. He was no great fan of the president. He once told a reporter that Clinton didn’t know a “goddamn thing” about foreign policy, and added, “The best thing Clinton could do—I think I wrote him a letter about this, but I’m not sure—is to shut up.”8

Nevertheless, he spent a night poring over the details of the Whitewater accusations, wanting to form a fair take. The next day, he summoned reporters to his house so he could share his conclusion: the Republicans didn’t have a case against Clinton. “I haven’t heard anything yet that says this is all that big of a deal,” he announced.9 Other Republicans were less than pleased. Angry calls poured into GOP headquarters and radio shows, and one conservative talk show host groused, “Goldwater should know that when your party is hot on the trail and barking up the tree, you don’t call off the dogs.”10

Goldwater’s response to the criticism was characteristically blunt. “You know something?” he said. “I don’t give a damn.”