And Then All At Once: Joe Walsh’s Transformation From Divider to Uniter, in His Own Words

Note from the editors:
Joe Walsh is a name you may recognize. A former Republican U.S. Congressman and presidential candidate, and “politically homeless” as he calls himself on his podcast, Walsh hosts White Flag with Joe Walsh, where he sits down with a guest that holds political and ideological beliefs different from his own, and they discuss a topic to find common ground and, possibly, a solution.

We asked Walsh to tell us the story of his evolution, the turning point, and “rock bottom” that motivated him to start a new chapter.

I went to Washington, D.C., to go to war. As a newly sworn-in member of Congress in 2011, I headed to Capitol Hill under the belief that government was too big, our debt was out of control, and basic notions of right and wrong were eroding by the week. I was going to Congress to fight against the people doing this to America. To literally fight. As if on a battlefield. Barack Obama, Nancy Pelosi, all the hosts on MSNBC and CNN. They weren’t just my political opponents; they were my mortal enemies. They didn’t just have different policy positions; they were trying to destroy MY country. My campaign tagline was, “Let’s take our country back.”

I quickly became well-recognized because I was so outspoken and divisive. I was a sought-after public speaker because I was good at getting crowds wound up with fervor and outrage. I effectively got people on my side to view people on the other side as their enemies. I painted “them” as anti-American radicals hell-bent on destroying everything good and decent about this country.

Here’s the thing: I believed damn near everything I said. I passionately believed that our government had gotten too big, that our debt was bankrupting future generations, and that we were too quickly abandoning individual responsibility. But I allowed myself to get so caught up in “the fight” that I too often personally attacked my political opponents. I attacked them, and not just their policies. I didn’t simply make the case against Obamacare; I called Obama “un-American.”

When I left Congress, I continued this us vs. them warlike mentality and built a successful career in talk radio and on Fox News, becoming a major force in right-wing media. Over and over, I was rewarded for my divisiveness with increased attention, popularity, and ratings. So I continued.

What made me change? Why am I on a different path now and “politically homeless,” as I say?

At first, it was gradual, and then all at once. The daily drumbeat of personal attacks and divisive politics began to feel like a game — like an endless, repetitive game that wasn’t going anywhere or accomplishing anything. More importantly, there were no winners; everyone was losing. It felt empty and dirty. I grew bored interacting with my colleagues in Republican politics and right-wing media, who all seemed perfectly content throwing bombs and “owning” their opposition daily.

I saw my supporters and audience changing in a way I didn’t like — they were becoming more extreme. In part, because they listened to what I said, and then, they went even further. I’d hear talk of support for acts of violence and observed indifference toward violence.

Before my eyes, people in my camp became untethered to truths, believing the absolute worst of folks across the aisle. I heard a sense of pride in being cruel. And increasingly, my fellow Republicans spoke of losing faith in democracy itself, that we couldn’t get “our” America back through the democratic process.

I knew I had helped them get to this scary, new place, but I didn’t want to be in that place. It was antithetical to what I believe in. Yes, I have strong beliefs about what is right for America, and I want to change things, but I would never throw away democracy to get what I want. It was a weird feeling, taking this journey with my supporters but not ending up where they did.

I knew I had to get off the train.

Walking away from the world of political hate and division meant walking away, not only from financial success, but from a political family, a political tribe. Walking away from that world meant no longer belonging to a team. But no matter how difficult it is to be where I am now, I know that this is the only place to be if I truly want to make this American experiment, and democracy, last. And I know, eventually, others will get here too. That’s what I’m fighting for now.