The Evolution of Matt Bevin – The Weekly Standard

When Kentucky governor Matt Bevin warmed up the crowd in Louisville ahead of Donald Trumps speech in March, he seemed to share the president's taste for superlatives:

"I defy anybody in the national media, local media, anybody who is a political expert among you to find one state in America anywhere in the history of America that has more profoundly transformed itself ideologically, politically, legislatively," Bevin said, "than Kentucky in the last year of change."

That might seem like an overstatement for what is, after all, a conservative state. But Kentucky was, until recently, the rare Southern state that retained a blue Democratic hue. In November, Republicans captured the majority in the state's house of representatives for the first time in 96 years. And Bevin himself is only the third Republican governor in the last half-century. When I asked the governor about the extravagant claims in his Louisville speech, he said they were more than justified. Finally having a GOP legislature, Bevin says, "has allowed us the opportunity for policies to be heard in committees that were never heard before, such as the right to work, pro-life legislation, and charter schools."

Kentucky Republicans have wasted little time, fast-tracking bills in the first five days of this year's general assembly session. Bevin signed right-to-work legislation, repealed a prevailing-wage law that was driving up the cost of state projects, signed a paycheck-protection bill, and banned abortions after 20 weeks. The governor signed a charter school billKentucky had been one of just seven states with no competition for public education dollars. And in an effort to reduce cronyism, he eliminated 65 separate state boards and commissions.

When the regular session was over (which happens pretty quickly in Kentuckyin odd years, the general assembly has to wrap up normal business by March 30), the governor plans to call legislators back for a special session to address tax reform and pension reform.

Conservatives could only dream of such rapid action from the Trump administration and the Republican-controlled Congress. Bevin blames Congress for the pace in Washington more than Trump. "The guy has been president for just three months," the governor says. "We have had the same Congress dragging their feet for a while."

Bevin has been, in some ways, the Trump of Kentucky, a businessman without political experience who came to office to shake things upthough he's more of a doctrinaire conservative than the president. Bevin grew up in New Hampshire. He served in the Army before a career in finance. In 2008, he took over his family's bell-manufacturing company.

Bevin, today a polished political pro, entered politics in 2014 as a rabble-rousing primary challenger to Mitch McConnell and very new to the game. He accused the Senate Republican leader of being too accommodating to President Barack Obama and blasted him for voting for the bank bailout. That proved to be an amateur mistake: Politico dug up a report to investors of Veracity Funds that Bevin had signed in 2008 supporting the Troubled Assets Relief Program. McConnell had a field day with that.

Bevin learned other hard political lessons in that first campaign. There was the rally fiasco in Corbin, Kentucky: A local newspaper reported that the group he spoke to at the event advocated the legalization of cockfighting. Bevin said he thought it was a states' rights rally and later issued a statement in opposition to cockfighting. But the damage was done. In the May 2014 primary, Bevin got 35 percent of the vote against McConnell. Maybe not so bad, all things considered.

Bevin, it should be noted, describes his relationship with McConnell today as "excellent," though not chummy: "We don't hang out and have coffee."

The longshot Senate campaign wasn't for nothing. Taking on one of the nation's most powerful Republicans built both name recognition and a political base to fight another day. Bevin entered the Kentucky governor's race the next year, running against three seasoned politicians in the Republican primary. He won the 2015 primary by just 83 votes statewide. In the general election, he trailed in polls the month before Election Day, but eventually carried 106 of the state's 120 counties. "I was never an elected official or a political mover and shaker, and people said I had no chance of winning," Bevin says. "I ran on issues others were afraid to talk about."

After coming into office in December 2015, he found a conciliatory middle ground on a wedge issue by allowing marriage licenses to be issued without the signature of a county clerk. This defused the controversy involving Kim Davis, the Rowan County clerk who had been jailed for refusing to sign same-sex marriage licenses.

But it didn't take long for things to become partisan. When Bevin moved to dismantle Kynect, the state's version of Obamacare, and pushed budget cuts in other areas, he ran up against Democratic house speaker Greg Stumbo: The longtime state powerbroker obstructed much of the governor's agenda. But in 2016 Stumbo was one of the casualties as Republicans gained control of the Kentucky house, with the GOP going from just 46 of 100 seats to 64.

With a Republican legislature to work with, Bevin now has a 50 percent approval ratingnot great, but a big upswing from his 33 percent approval this time a year ago, when he was fighting with Democrats.

Does Bevin represent a new political balance of power in Kentucky, or is he just another GOP aberration there? The last Republican governor, Ernie Fletcher, was a one-termer. He was a creature of the political establishment, having served in the state legislature, then the U.S. House, before being backed for governor in 2003 by McConnell. Once Fletcher was in office, Democratic attacks paralyzed him. By contrast, Bevin is anything but paralyzed.

McConnell is rightly credited with making Kentucky a two-party system, leading to GOP dominance at the congressional level. But Bevin deserves much credit for the change at the state office level. He also demonstrates how an anti-establishment rabble-rouser can evolve into a successful politician, a lesson that could be valuable for Donald Trump.

"If anti-establishment means cutting red tape and ignoring the hot air, I'm anti-establishment. But, if the establishment includes people working hard for the good of the public, I'll work with anyone who has good ideas, Democrat or Republican," Bevin says. "I try to create dialogue and avoid the noisemakers. I don't watch TV. I don't sit down with editorial boards who are never going to support me. I go out and listen to people."

Fred Lucas is White House correspondent for the Daily Signal and author of Tainted by Suspicion: The Secret Deals and Electoral Chaos of Disputed Presidential Elections (Stairway Press, 2016).

Correction: An earlier version of this story incorrectly stated that Gov. Bevin already called a special legislative session. He has not, but sources in the Governor's office say he plans to.

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The Evolution of Matt Bevin - The Weekly Standard