Why I Am a Briones Republican
Free Stock photos from Vecteezy
By Jay Donde
Why am I a Republican? It’s because I hate poor people, Donna. I hate them. They’re all so… poor. And many of them talk funny and don’t have proper table manners. My father slaved away at the Fortune 500 company he inherited so that I could go to Choate, Brown, and Harvard, and see that this country isn’t overrun by poor people and lesbians. – Cliff Calley, The West Wing
When I say that I’m a conservative because I’m an immigrant and a minority, people often assume they’ve misheard. “Shouldn’t you be a progressive, then?” Indeed, that response is common; but it also belies a common misunderstanding of the two traditions – conservatism and progressivism – that dominate our modern political discourse.
There are many fault lines along which conservatives and progressives split: the value of law and order, of traditions and institutions, of commerce and markets. However, these are all secondary to and consequent of a more fundamental disagreement over where our rights come from. Conservatism is rooted in a theory of natural rights, progressivism in a theory of positive liberty.
Natural rights theory holds that each of us is born with and possesses all of our rights inherently. Then, in exchange for certain benefits, we may choose of our own free will to alienate some of those rights to the state, becoming a citizen. In other words, conservatives believe that the social contract is exactly that – a contract, not a kidnapping.
Of course, this contract is mere construct. No one is ever asked whether he or she wants to live under the state’s authority, nor ever given a practicable opportunity to opt out of it. Therefore, conservatives argue, government should be constitutionally averse to exercising its power; it should consider it a moral imperative to deliver services on time, above standard, and under budget; and its policies should empower citizens, not make dependents of them.
Conversely, progressives believe that since we are fundamentally social animals, human rights only exist within, and are emergent properties of, our social context. At the risk of oversimplifying, they are less concerned than conservatives with the question of what government may do, and more concerned with what it should do. For many progressives, the answer to that question is to promote what the philosopher Isaiah Berlin called “positive liberty” – the freedom to overcome one’s own worst impulses. Hence, progressive tradition is more comfortable with an expansive, paternalistic state.
Nevermind all the scaremongering you’ve been subjected to on TV or in the newspaper; the above, ultimately, is all that divides us. Conservatives are not a secret cabal dedicated to systematically disenfranchising women, children, and the infirmed. We just want government to stick to the basics, and expect it to do them well.
What does all of that have to do with being an immigrant and a minority? Well, as a Jew, I understand better than most what it means to be an “other” in society. For many centuries, the Jews were a people without a land, and even in those states where we were well-treated, our rights were not recognized, but “granted.” That is a fundamentally progressive paradigm, as described above, and to me there is something about it that is both intolerably precarious and inexorably at odds with human dignity. It is what Americans in 1776 revolted against, which is why to this day you will find fewer Americans more patriotic than immigrants. It is not merely the flourishing of human potential that freedom affords us, but the right of every man to “sit in safety under his own vine and fig tree and there shall be none to make him afraid,” as George Washington once wrote in a letter to, aptly enough, the first Jewish congregation in America.
The modern Republican Party is a fusion of different camps within the conservative movement, each emphasizing a unique implication of or corollary to limited government. There are civil libertarians and traditionalists, foreign policy hawks and supply-siders, constitutionalists and public safety advocates. But many Republicans don’t fit neatly into any of these categories. In fact, many of them couldn’t care less about natural rights theory, and don’t know John Locke from John Lennon.
Instead, they’re Republicans because, deep down, they believe in consensus politics – that government should be about compromise and respect and a desire to address the concerns of as many voters as possible; it should not be a vehicle for cramming down fringe ideologies supported by ephemeral majorities. They believe that Ronald Reagan was right when he said, “I’d rather get 80 percent of what I want than go over a cliff with my flags flying.” They believe that there’s value in an approach to politics that unites Americans as they were almost four decades ago, when President Reagan won 49 states and nearly 60 percent of the popular vote in his bid for reelection.
In 2021, Bill Jackson, Christian Foster, David Cuadro, and I co-founded the Briones Society because we felt that consensus voters were under-recognized and under-represented – not just by Democrats in our city, but by the Republican Party, also. Too many Republicans had drawn the wrong conclusions from the presidential elections of 2008, 2012, and 2016 and turned to a style of politics that was angry, crude, and divisive. What’s worse, they embraced figures who espoused ideologies that were expressly not conservative – valorizing authoritarianism at home and abroad, spreading paranoid conspiracy theories, arguing that individual liberty should be subordinate to majority dictates, and espousing segregation based on race, color, and creed. We believed that the silent majority of conservatives – those who remained in the Republican Party, as well as those who left – were frustrated by the fact that the loudest voices in the room, the ones most willing to cause chaos, had hijacked their party.
We chose our name to honor Juana Briones, the “founding mother of San Francisco” whose life story is a remarkable journey of compassion, resilience, and spirit. Juana was a traditional family woman who raised eight children, but was also unafraid to assert her independence: When her husband became abusive, she convinced the local bishop to grant her a clerical separation. She was charitable and gave shelter and medicine to runaway sailors, but was also a clever entrepreneur who practiced medicine, invested in real estate, and operated a dairy farm.
As we expected, the response to the Briones Society from Republicans was overwhelming – and overwhelmingly positive. What we did not expect were the scores of independents and Democrats who reached out to us, too. They were tired of a Democratic Party that thought their teenagers shouldn’t learn algebra, but their toddlers should be taught that they’re racist. They were tired of a party that told them they were cruel for wanting to deport drug dealers driving BMWs, and for not wanting to let drug addicts smoke, snort, and inject themselves to death in front of their homes and with their tax dollars. And they were tired of a party whose solution to every problem was more money for corrupt “nonprofits.” Most of all, they were tired of a party that didn’t do the foundational things you have to do to build consensus and govern fairly and effectively: treat voters with respect, deeply understand their challenges, and take their concerns seriously. It didn’t do these things because, simply put, progressivism isn’t oriented towards consensus; it exalts the vanguard. These voters knew it before even we did: They, too, were Briones Republicans.
“Brionies” come from diverse backgrounds, but these core values unite us:
Optimism. We believe San Francisco can be the best place to live in America.
Civility. We assume good intentions, debate with humility, and seek to build bridges, not burn them.
Leadership. We model the leadership that citizens have a right to expect: conscientious, compassionate, and prudent.
Diversity. America is an idea, and we welcome all who embrace it — no matter where they come from, whom they love, or how they worship.
Constitutionalism. We respect the institutions that undergird our free society and condemn attempts to delegitimize or politicize them.
Accountability. We believe that compassion and accountability, in equal measure, create strong communities and healthy individuals.
Consensus. We work to find solutions that address the needs of broad-based, diverse constituencies, not just simple majorities.
Competence. We think that government can be a force for good, but it should start by doing a few big things well, not many small things poorly.
Dynamism. We reject one-size-fits-all solutions and believe in the power of markets to surface diverse, novel ideas that work.
It doesn’t matter, then, who you voted for yesterday. All that matters is whether these values speak to you today. Do you think San Franciscans deserve good schools, clean streets, a safe city, and affordable neighborhoods? That elected officials should take into account the diverse concerns of all voters? Or that San Francisco needs leaders who care as much about policy as they do about politics? I do, my fellow Brionies do, and, if you agree with us, then you might be a Briones Republican, also.
