THIRTY-SIX

Kevin McCarthy, the highest-ranked Republican in the House of Representatives and the minority leader, held court in his Capitol suite with a stream of lawmakers and aides on the evening of December 16.

As he sat in a high-backed chair in front of a log fire, McCarthy, 55, cracked jokes and swapped stories. The mood felt celebratory, even victorious. Biden might have big plans, but McCarthy and House Republicans had reduced Pelosi’s majority. Thirteen Democratic seats flipped! A historic number of Republican women.

“What mandate?” McCarthy asked the group, dismissing Biden’s 2020 showing.

“He’s yesterday, we’re the future,” McCarthy said of the president-elect—a title he had so far been reluctant to utter. “He’s bringing everybody back from the past. He’s misreading this election.

“People are going to be bored with him,” he continued. McCarthy mocked Biden, saying that when some voters describe a Biden campaign rally, “They say circles. Not circles of people but circles where people should stand in,” to maintain social distance.

A Bakersfield, California, native with tufts of silver hair, and the son of an assistant fire chief, McCarthy had spent his entire adult life in politics. He was particularly proud of the four pickups in his home state, which The New York Times later called a “stinging setback” and a “warning for Democrats.”

“I won four seats in California,” McCarthy told those gathered around him. “When everybody said I would lose 15 seats, we didn’t lose one seat.” He rattled off a list of winners.

This was the next incarnation of the Republican Party in the House, on private display: defiant and empowered. McCarthy had been majority leader from 2014 to 2019. He believed he would rise again, this time as speaker.

McCarthy made sure to credit Trump. His alliance with him had brought him within spitting distance of regaining the majority.

McCarthy’s eye was already on 2022. Hold on for two years and then win the speakership.

“The majority,” McCarthy flatly told anyone when asked about his priority.

To get there, McCarthy envisioned a partial revival of the now defunct Tea Party’s slash-government-spending ethos, alarm over the debt, culture warfare, and pitches to voters fed up with politically correct politics. He would have Trump hold rallies for House candidates.

“I think the debt is going to become a bigger issue than people think because it’s the hangover afterwards, like, ‘Whoa,’ ” McCarthy said. “I think people are going to wake up.

“You know who I’m going to recruit? Small business owners,” he added. “They are going to have a passion; they can see what abuse government can do to your own life.

“We’re the party of the working people. They’re now the elitists who tell us where to eat, how to eat, what to drink, what to think, what we can read, what’s news and not,” he said. “That doesn’t sell at the end of the day.”

McCarthy was pessimistic about any relationship with Biden. “He’s a Senate man. He’s always going to go to the Senate.”

Biden had not called him yet, McCarthy noted, although several allies told him his refusal to acknowledge Biden as president-elect was the reason. Nothing personal.