Most of Fayette
County’s elected leaders are Tea Partiers, shedding light on how Tea Party
reformers -- if given full control -- might shape public policy and overhaul
Republican politics at the local level.
Fayette County, Ga., is exactly what you think
of when you think of the exurban South. It’s technically part of the Atlanta
metropolitan area -- the county’s northwest corner lies just six miles from the
runways at Hartsfield International Airport -- but Fayette rolls south from
there over the gentle hills of central Georgia. With just over 106,000
residents, it’s the second least densely populated county in the region, full
of rural woodlands, artificial lakes, grassy fields and affluent pockets of
modern suburbia. Most of the roads have no more than two lanes in either
direction. The planned community of Peachtree City, with a population of
35,000, is the county’s largest town. (Crisscrossed by a 90-mile network of
bike and golf-cart paths, the town routinely shows up on national “best places
to live” lists.) You can walk your dog through the middle of Peachtree City and
still spot deer and raccoons.
But there’s one thing that distinguishes
Fayette County, one aspect that makes it different from other exurban enclaves
throughout the Sun Belt. Fayette County is run entirely by the Tea Party. All
five county commissioners are Tea Party members, as is the entire county school
board, along with a sheriff, a mayor and several city council members.
It’s a nascent political experiment, to be
sure: Most of the Tea Partiers on the county commission were only voted into
office in November. And it’s certainly too early to know exactly what impact
the new guard will have on the area’s future. But what’s already happening in
Fayette County illuminates how Tea Party reformers -- if given full control --
might shape public policy and overhaul Republican politics at the local level.
It poses a fundamental question about Tea Party leadership: What happens when some
of the biggest critics of government end up being the ones in charge?
Fayette County has long been a conservative
bastion. Locals have voted decisively for every Republican presidential nominee
since Ronald Reagan’s first election. Former House Speaker Newt Gingrich’s
Congressional district once included Fayette County. Fayette is overwhelmingly
white and mostly well off (the median household income is about $81,000,
significantly higher than the national median and nearly 40 percent higher than
the rest of Georgia).
Through the 1990s and most of the 2000s,
Fayette enjoyed rapid growth as Atlanta commuters moved farther and farther
out, seeking big houses on leafy streets. The new development was fueled in
part by the brand of pro-business, pro-growth Republicanism that rose to
prominence across the South. With the vast majority of county revenue coming
from property taxes, Fayette’s coffers rose along with home values. A bullish
housing market allowed the county commission to pay for more roads and a few
public amenities, including a senior center, which paved the way for even more
development. The elected body didn’t do much else: It levied taxes, controlled
county property and oversaw county roads. The county raised more money than it
spent each year.
Then the Great Recession hit, and the
political and economic climate changed. The local unemployment rate jumped from
under 5 percent in 2008 to over 8 percent in 2010. As housing prices plummeted,
so did property tax collections. Money from the county’s sales-and-use tax took
a nosedive as well. In 2012, after several years of rising expenditures and
declining revenues, the commission had to dip into its reserve fund to balance
the budget.
That’s when the Tea Party stepped in. “People
were suddenly in a position where whatever worked before was no longer
working,” says Pat Cooper, the managing editor of the Fayette County
News. “When things went from bad to worse, the Tea Party became a guiding
star for residents.”
Two Tea Party candidates won commission seats
in 2010. In a post-election analysis that year, local Tea Party co-founder Bob
Ross detailed the ways he believed the old-guard GOP had failed local
residents: Commissioners had supported a costly road project, backed a sales
tax increase and failed to officially reprimand a fellow commissioner for
criminal behavior (a DUI involving marijuana). Ross’ words echoed the
frustrations of conservatives nationwide, who have attacked expensive new
public programs under the Obama administration, such as the economic stimulus
package and the universal health-care law. Local Fayette Tea Party challengers
promised to be frugal, transparent and persistent in trying to block further
construction of the costly and unpopular road.
In 2012, the party swept the three remaining
seats. All of the candidates ran on the same platform, vowing to uproot
“corruption” and restore order to the local budget. (Their accusations of
fiscal malfeasance warrant some skepticism. True, the county had begun spending
slightly more than it was taking in, but the commission still had more than $8
million in reserves and a rainy day fund.)
Ever since, the Tea Party in Fayette County
has been on a roll. As the party has sought control of the commission, the
school board and other local seats, its record has so far been a sterling 14
wins in 14 races. “Anything we’ve gone after,” says local party co-founder
Harold Bost, “we’ve gotten it.”
The schism in the local Republican Party
mirrors the GOP soul-searching that’s currently taking place in the states and
Washington. The Tea Party candidates portrayed Republican incumbents as
left-leaning moderates who were wasting taxpayer dollars. “They tried to say
they wanted to cleanse the party, but what they really wanted to do was control
the party,” says county Republican Chairman Lane Watts. “It was mind-blowing.”
At the national level, the Tea Party movement
has rallied around federal budget cuts, a stronger check against executive
power and a pledge against any new taxes. In Fayette, the focus is somewhat
shifted. (Herbert Frady, who retired from the Fayette County Commission last
year after serving five terms, counts himself as a member of the national Tea
Party. The local party, he contends, isn’t the real thing.) The local party
supports limited government and fiscal conservatism, yes, but it also is waging
battles against high-density growth and investments in mass transit.
Perhaps the biggest difference between the
old-style Republicans and their successors is their respective appetites for
new development. After the pro-growth GOP of the past 20 years, the Tea
Partiers in Fayette can almost sound like environmental protectionists. “The
county commission is a big part of what kind of future you’ve got,” says local
party leader Ross. “Are you going to be a county full of strip malls? Are you
going to pave over the county?”
That’s a major distinction, says University of
Georgia political scientist Charles Bullock. Republican leaders in rural
counties accept tradeoffs, such as sales tax increases, in order to maintain
roads and high-quality schools, so long as they attract private-sector
investment. “Your Tea Party people can’t make that kind of assessment,” Bullock
says. “Their top priority is to maintain low taxes. They would say, if you have
a very low tax structure, that alone is enough inducement to private industry
coming in.”
The development question was a big part of
what galvanized the Tea Party takeover in Fayette. The former commissioners
approved a six-mile road project to relieve traffic congestion that mostly
doesn’t exist yet, plus a new fee for stormwater maintenance. They also
supported a failed statewide referendum last summer on a one-cent sales tax
that would have paid for new roads in Fayette County, plus bus and light rail
in other parts of the metro Atlanta region. Until late last year, the
incumbents backed a regional transportation plan that included potential mass
transit segments in Fayette by 2040.
Supporters of those plans -- particularly the
statewide referendum, a measure that would have brought nearly $7.2 billion in
new transportation investments to 10 counties around Atlanta, but which voters
throughout the entire region overwhelmingly rejected -- said they were
necessary to meet the area’s future growth challenges. In Fayette County alone,
the population more than tripled from 1980 to 2010. The Atlanta Regional
Commission, a metropolitan planning organization, projects that another 54,000
people will reside in the county by 2030.
But the local Tea Party saw those sorts of
long-term plans as tantamount to urbanization and a betrayal to residents’
preferred way of life. It prompted accusations that commissioners were in
developers’ pockets, and paying more attention to interest groups in Atlanta
instead of the voters in Fayette County. “No one moved to Fayette County to be
close to anything,” said Tea Party Commissioner Steve Brown at a public meeting
in 2011. Fayette residents, he argued, chose a rural setting with long commutes
over the conveniences of urban life. “Many of us are refugees from the current
mass transit counties in metro Atlanta.”
“You do see an idealism around the suburban
lifestyle that they’ve created,” says Ashley Robbins, president of the
Atlanta-based Citizens for Progressive Transit and an advocate of the failed
sales tax referendum. “That county has always gravitated that way. It has
always been exclusive and I think that will continue.”
Even before the party’s sweep of the county
commission last fall, the two Tea Partiers who had won election in 2010 had
given an indication of how they would run things. Brown and his colleague Allen
McCarty have championed a menu of policy changes to reduce the cost of
government, impose stricter ethics rules and discourage high-density
development. Between the two of them, they’ve proposed outsourcing the county’s
building inspections, opening more contracts to competitive bidding and
diverting some transportation funds to pay for stormwater maintenance (rather
than imposing new fees).
One change that’s already taking place? More
direct access from citizens. As the new chairman, Brown has revised the rules
for public meetings so that citizens have more opportunities to speak to the
commission, not just those residents who sign up at the start of a meeting. The
new commission is looking into posting online videos of its meetings. They’re
also making an effort to be more open and transparent in the process of
appointing citizens to advisory boards. “We’re really striving to be a
representative government,” says Brown.
Now the Tea Party must translate campaign
rhetoric into the work of governing the county. Some of their actions already
seem to invoke the more mainstream Republicans they ousted. The commissioners,
for example, are already discussing ways to connect the county to an interstate
highway, which would shorten the commute time to Atlanta and could result in
expanding development in Fayette once again. One commissioner is even talking
about finding money for employee pay raises.
Ultimately, it may not even be that paradoxical
that a party that frequently rails against the government is in charge of
running one. True, national Tea Party leaders such as retired Texas Rep. Ron
Paul and his son Rand, a U.S. senator from Kentucky, have advocated for the
elimination of entire federal agencies, including the U.S. Department of
Education. But the issues at the local level are different. Tea Partiers -- at
least the ones in Fayette County -- aren’t seeking to dismantle the local
school system or eliminate the sheriff’s office. Government does have a
legitimate, if limited, role in public life, they argue -- to protect
individual rights provided under state and federal constitutions, such as
access to affordable education and public safety.
Still, if the commissioners stray too far from
Tea Party ideals, the local party operatives will be watching. “If they don’t
do it right,” says Bost, “we’re going to be right down their backs.”
Source: Read the
April issue of Governing magazine. bY: J.B. WOGAN | APRIL 2013