Below you will read a letter penned by Bill Lussenheide who was present and covered the Montana Republican Party’s Kickoff in Great Falls, Montana recently. He has an interesting take on those who showed up and spoke vs those who did not. The topic was Property Taxes.
Do not be deceived-there’s corruption abounding in our Capitol. (See below)
Bill Lussenheide – Live Coverage
“At the Montana Republican Party’s Winter Kickoff in Great Falls—an event packed with Republicans from every level of government, including the Governor—an offer was made that should have been impossible to refuse. Party Chairman Art Wittich extended a public, good-faith invitation to those colloquially known as the Nasty Nine and the Dirty Dozen to engage in a civil, professionally moderated debate on the increasingly controversial property tax issue.
The invitation was not symbolic. It was not rhetorical. It was thorough, documented, and persistent—emails, phone calls, and even certified letters. Montana Republican Chairman Art Wittich went out of his way to insist on decorum, professionalism, and a high-road discussion worthy of a governing party. No ambushes. No theatrics. Just debate.
And yet, when the time came, not a single one of those invited showed up.
Not one.
Instead, the debate featured two empty chairs—silent, unmoving, and ultimately far more revealing than any prepared talking point could have been. Those chairs represented more than physical absence; they symbolized a complete abdication of responsibility to explain, defend, or even acknowledge the consequences of the policies these individuals helped advance.
Chairman Wittich, to his credit, handled the situation with grace. He read aloud the few responses he received—mostly excuses masquerading as explanations—with dignity and restraint. No mockery. No retaliation. Just transparency.
In contrast, State Senator Greg Hertz and House Representative Terry Falk, who opposed this bad legislation, did what elected officials are supposed to do: they showed up. They answered the questions. They addressed the shortcomings of the current legislation and openly acknowledged why the issue must be revisited next session. They stayed for audience questions. They debated in public, on the record, without fear of scrutiny.
Which brings us back to the empty chairs.
“Empty-chairing,” as a political performance, is typically used to criticize someone who refuses to participate. Here, the performance required no exaggeration. The absence spoke loudly enough on its own. When given a fair forum, a friendly audience, and every procedural courtesy, the opponents of reform chose silence.
And that silence is telling.
These individuals have effectively exiled themselves from the Republican Party’s platform and of open debate and accountability—while still insisting on wearing the “R” next to their names on the ballot. They reject the party’s process, avoid its voters, and refuse its forums, yet cling tightly to its label when election season rolls around.
That is not principled dissent. That is political convenience.
Voters should take note. When leaders won’t defend their ideas in front of their own party—when they won’t even sit in the chair—it’s not because they were treated unfairly. It’s because they had nothing they were willing to defend.
Sometimes the most scathing indictment isn’t spoken at all.
Sometimes, it’s just an empty chair.”
Bill Lussenheide
