DALTON, Ga. (AP) — President Donald Trump calls Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene a traitor. But to Jackie Harlin, chairwoman of the local Republican Party in the northwest corner of Georgia, she’s still “Mama Bear.”
“Every thought we had in our heads, she seemed to be so good at putting it into words,” Harling said.
Greene, who resigned Monday midway through her third term in Congress, saying things others wouldn’t may be her most lasting legacy. First, her embrace of conspiracy theories and inflammatory rhetoric has made her a national symbol of a political culture without guardrails. Then there’s her willingness to criticize Trump, a divisiveness that makes her position in Washington untenable.
In interviews in Greene’s district, voters described her over and over again as a “fighter.” For Republicans like Harlem, that’s enough.
“We’re very pleased,” Harling said. “She is our voice.”
That’s less than satisfying for independents like Heath Patterson, who struggled during her time in the U.S. Capitol to think about how Greene’s fame and notoriety could bring change to her district.
“I don’t know what she’s doing here, of course, other than making her voice heard. But where are we and how do we benefit from this?” he said. “I don’t think we did it.”
From MAGA warrior to exile
Greene began clashing with Trump last year, criticizing his focus on foreign policy and reluctance to release documents involving the Jeffrey Epstein case. The president finally had enough and said he would support a primary challenge against her. A week later, Green announced his resignation.
Since then, she has continued to criticize Trump, including over his decision to attack Venezuela this weekend.
“This is what many in MAGA thought they were voting to end,” Greene wrote on social media on Saturday. “Oh my gosh, we were wrong.”
The split was surprising because up until that point, Greene’s trajectory had mirrored Trump’s own rise to power. She didn’t get involved in politics until he ran for president in 2016, and ran for Congress for the first time in 2020. Greene considered trying to represent Georgia’s 6th Congressional District, which includes the Atlanta suburbs, and later moved to the 14th District, where the Republican incumbent is retiring.
She remained loyal to Trump after he lost to President Joe Biden, promoting his lies that the election was stolen. When Trump ran again in 2024, she toured the country with him and spoke at his rallies wearing a red “Make America Great Again” hat.
Her Georgia district is one of the most Republican-leaning in the state, although that wasn’t always the case. The district once supported Democrats such as Zell Miller, the governor and U.S. senator who spearheaded Georgia’s lottery program that still funds college scholarships and early childhood education programs.
But Belgian Jan Pourquoi said changes over the years have left residents feeling left behind. Jan Pourquoi, a native of Belgium who immigrated in 1987, became a U.S. citizen and later won local office in Whitfield County.
The county’s population has grown about 32 percent since 1990, dwarfing the 74 percent growth statewide. As America becomes more urban, secular and diverse, residents feel they are “culturally oppressed,” Pulquet said.
“They see themselves as great Americans, proud Americans, Christian Americans, but that no longer fits the mold of what they see as America,” said Pulquet, who said he left the Republican Party because of Trump. Greene gave the example of political backlash, which he summed up as “hang in there — do the best you can.”
Georgia leaders, like those in many other states, spent years drawing congressional districts to bring together like-minded voters. That means in red districts, whoever wins the Republican primary is almost certain to emerge victorious in the general election, incentivizing candidates like Greene to adopt tougher views.
The political landscape means former Republicans like Pulquie or independents like Patterson say they have no chance of helping centrists win.
“I’m a middle man,” Patterson said, adding that it sometimes feels like he’s “the only one here who’s like that.”
Republicans plan their path forward
Last month, Whitfield County Republicans gathered at a local restaurant for their annual Christmas party, where seasonal decorations and a visit from Santa Claus mixed with red, white and blue costumes and some MAGA paraphernalia.
People still have a deep affection for Greene and talk a lot about the cultural issues she championed.
“I think it’s just because of her unwavering commitment to ‘America First,'” said Gavin Swafford, who ran Greene’s original campaign.
Swafford called her an “accountability representative” as she clashed with Republican leaders.
Lisa Adams, a party volunteer, called Green “our outspoken person.”
“Look at her stance on transgenderism. It’s a huge issue,” she said. “Abortion. It’s a big deal.”
They said Greene’s inconsistencies – whether real or perceived – were not an issue.
Green, for example, praised South Korean solar panel factories in the region even after voting against Biden-era policies aimed at boosting production. She broke with Republicans, including Trump, and sided with Democrats who want to provide premium subsidies for Affordable Care Act health insurance customers.
Not a single Republican at the Christmas party expressed interest in choosing a side between Trump and Greene.
“I think that’s inevitable when you have two inveterate demagogues,” Swafford said.
Asked whether the district was missing out on a more traditional lawmaker, the kind who could strike a bipartisan deal and bring as much federal money home as possible, Swafford was unconcerned.
“The thing that Marjorie contributed the most to was not even legislative,” he said.
Still, some believe Greene could have gone further despite her naked politics.
Star Black, a Republican running to succeed Greene, had planned a primary challenge even before she announced her resignation.
“You have a great representative, he’s a fighter. Well, you know what? I want to take it a step further,” Black said.
“You don’t just need a warrior,” Black said, “you need someone who’s going to listen. You need someone who can represent you.”
