Lou Dubose writes about Texas politics and about Rove the "Boy Genius." He has Karl Rove's number, all right, and has been watching the downfall not just of Rove, but of the Republican Party and its affiliation with the Christian right.
A nominal Christian and Episcopalian, Rove had little regard for the evangelical extremists who have become essential to the success of the modern Republican Party, even cracking the occasional joke about his own lack of faith.
Then the Christian right showed up at the Republicans' state convention in Fort Worth, in 1994, with enough delegates to seize control of the party. The dominant Christian faction tossed George H.W. Bush's handpicked state chairman and longtime friend, Fred Meyer, out of office and replaced him with a charismatic Catholic lawyer from Dallas. It banned liquor from convention hotels and replaced hospitality-room bars with "ice cream sundae bars," where chefs prepared designer confections. It summoned delegates to Grand Old Prayer Sessions, required Christian fealty oaths of candidates for party leadership, and made opposition to abortion the brand by which Texas Republicans would be defined.
This political great awakening was not unique to Texas. But it occurred in a context in which a brilliant, Pygmalion political consultant saw in George W. Bush a malleable idol who could be fashioned into a governor and ultimately a president. And Bush was a candidate whose genuine evangelical faith was an asset rather than a liability. After initially fighting the dominant evangelical delegation at the state convention -- proposing Texas Rep. Joe Barton as a compromise candidate for state party chairman -- Rove joined them.
He found religion, even if he didn't find Jesus. And it was a foxhole conversion at best.
Now it's all over. Dubose should know. He's been paying close attention for years. Rove is going home but the Republican party is in tatters. He may try to prop up one of his "creations," John Cornyn, erstwhile disrespected state pol and now a (dreadful) Texas senator. But Cornyn, we're very relieved to note, is last week's dead meat -- even deader 'n Rove.
The Republican party is beginning to look like a Texas cattle tank in the month of August. Scummy. Useless. And with crud floating on the surface waiting to be carried off in the next flash flood. The old cattle dogs know well enough not to go near that for a drink even on the hottest days.
