the Environmental Protection Agency that if they ever read a favorable editorial in the New York Times about the Bush administration’s environmental policy, ‘we might as well still have a Democratic president.’” Whitman called her book It’s My Party Too, a reference to her conviction that the GOP is still a big tent that can happily contain proenvironment moderates such as herself. But there’s scant evidence she’s right; today’s Republican Party isn’t hers, not by any objective standard. Over the past quarter-century, the party has grown more ideological and, thanks to the massive influx of money in politics, is increasingly dominated by big business. The Bush administration reflects those trends. Vice President Cheney is, of course, the former CEO of oil services conglomerate Halliburton; Bush’s chief of staff, Andrew Card, is a former lobbyist for General Motors. The consequences are predictable. As Whitman herself concedes, “On social issues, on race, and on the environment, extremists within the Republican Party are pushing views that are alienating many of those in the mainstream.” Maybe. Or maybe that alienation is wishful thinking. Because when it comes to the environment, the mainstream doesn’t seem to care—at least not enough to vote accordingly. Though polls consistently show that a majority of Americans, whatever their political affiliation, support proenvironmental policies, very few voters prioritize the environment in nationwide elections. Instead, they vote on bread-and-butter issues—the economy, education, taxes, and health care. Since 9/11, you can add war, terrorism, and national security to the list of issues voters consider more urgent than the environment. And with the public either distracted or simply unconcerned, the GOP’s most passionate antienvironmental ideologues are busy: ignoring global warming, pushing for Arctic drilling, opening public lands to mining, and clear-cutting. The Bush administration is limiting environmental protection in almost every way it can, such as revising federal regulations to allow more road building on public lands and increasing the number of snowmobiles permitted in Yellowstone National Park. Out of necessity, the green Republicans pick their battles, stalling the implementation of antienvironmental policies (such as the White House’s energy bill), holding up legislation when vote counts are tight, fighting to protect the environmentally sensitive areas within their own districts. But it’s a war they are losing. For the first four years of Bush’s presidency, for example, the moderates helped prevent Congress from opening the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge to oil drilling. That battle is on the verge of being lost. The Republican moderates did what they could but were simply too few. The green Republicans “have respect,” says Chuck Porcari, press secretary at the League of Conservation Voters, which ranks all members of Congress on their environmental voting records. (The 2004 Democrats’ national average was 85 in the Senate, 86 in the House; the Republicans averaged 8 and 10.) There are enough green Republicans that they cannot be entirely ignored. But do they have power? Not really, Porcari admits. Still, Porcari tries to be optimistic. Moderate Republicans “can have an impact. The numbers aren’t there to [deliver] the votes the way you want, but they’re a ringing conscience in the back of your head.” “There are some doors that will never open for us,” admits Jim DiPeso, REP’s spokesperson. But in the long run, he continues, www.plentymag.com August/September 2005
“we feel that our message is going to resonate” with the GOP.
T
he Republican Party has a strong environmental past. Green Republicans frequently point out that their party practically gave birth to environmentalism. After all, the 20th century’s most famous politician-environmentalist was Republican president Theodore Roosevelt, who helped found what was then known as the “conservation” movement. An avid outdoorsman, Roosevelt was famous for his love of hiking, hunting, fishing, and horseback riding. In the nation’s capital, he boated on the Potomac and Anacostia Rivers, and hiked and climbed Rock Creek Park, often dragging along sweaty, fuming aides and supplicants. Modern Republicans such as Ronald Reagan and President Bush are sometimes photographed engaging in similar activities but with notable differences. When President Bush clears brush, he’s using the environment to make a point about his own virility. Roosevelt reveled in the environment as an end in itself and didn’t much care whether anyone else was watching. And Roosevelt’s activities took place on public lands. Similarly, when Bill Clinton wanted to make a political statement with his choice of vacation, he took his family camping in Yellowstone National Park. Reagan and President Bush, by contrast, chopped wood on their ranches—which is to say, on private land. It’s a telling piece of symbolism. To Roosevelt, the world’s natural wonders were a gift from God. To abuse that gift—to leave the wilderness in worse condition for your children than it was for you—was sacrilegious. That didn’t mean people couldn’t hunt for wild game, whether in Africa, Brazil, or the great forests and plains of the United States. On the contrary, Roosevelt believed that the desire to prove oneself physically in the natural world was an essential part of being. But in order to fulfill that mission of self-realization, there had to be a natural world. As president from 1901 to 1909, Roosevelt did everything he could to protect his beloved outdoors. In the final year of his term, he summoned 45 governors and territorial executives to the White House for a conference on the environment. Addressing his guests, Roosevelt declared, “You have come hither at my request, so that we may join together to consider the question of the conservation and use of the great fundamental sources of wealth of this Nation... It is the chief material question that confronts us, second only—and second always—to the great fundamental questions of morality.” Before leaving the White House, Roosevelt would, among other proenvironment acts, create a National Conservation Commission; fight mining companies to establish the Grand Canyon as a national monument; and create 16 federal bird refuges. Leaving the world a better place for your children—a greener place—Roosevelt insisted, was a conservative value. Today Republican hunters and fishermen throughout the country agree, and you can still hear echoes of Roosevelt in his great-grandson, Theodore Roosevelt IV, P L E N T Y | 69