Eric Stern, deputy secretary of the state in Montana, tells us
how regular Montanans beat the Koch brothers in their state on Medicaid expansion, as a lesson in what other states—how other Americans—can fight back. One of the first things to figure out is how to beat the Kochs at their own game, when they parachute in to derail local government.
For the Medicaid battle the Kochs tried a new strategy, one that never works in the West. They flew in a bunch of high-priced young politicos from Washington to get the job done. These held "town meetings" in rural communities at which they showed up in slim-fit suits and pointy shoes, looking like they were heading to a nightclub, lecturing farmers and ranches on politics and the dangers of "more Obamacare" and publicly threatening moderate Republicans. It didn't take long for them to get booed off the stage by their own partisans.
That was a particularly bad strategy in Montana, where outside interference is particularly disdained. But the state isn't unique in that regard. No one appreciates having out-of-state billionaires meddling in their local and state politics—no one except the state and local politicians who are on the receiving end of the largesse of those billionaires. And speaking of billionaires, that's another lesson from this fight—find out what they're getting out of your state.
At the height of the debate two months ago, former Gov. Brian Schweitzer, a rancher, wrote a letter to his local newspaper pointing out that Koch Industries owns a ranch in Montana that has taken $12 million in public grazing subsidies while spending their fortune to prevent someone who makes $11,000 a year from getting public help for medical care. The Koch team leader reacted by penning an angry opinion piece, attacking Schweitzer but leaving his accusation unanswered, thus spreading the bad news. It was a serious blow.
Chances are pretty good they've got some scam going almost everywhere. Find out what it is and exploit it. And that takes local organizing.
This time, the progressives took care of business and pressured one in five Republicans to vote for it. Kim Abbott of Montana Human Rights Network, who coordinated the effort, says they banked a record 10,000 calls to legislators. They found citizens with life-ending illnesses who could not afford treatment, who are not eligible for Medicaid nor an ACA-subsidized plan, and paired them with hospital leaders for media appearances and to testify at hearings at the Capitol. The Kochs' crew, meanwhile, testified at the same hearings that Americans "will no longer have an incentive to work hard" if Medicaid is expanded.
Ten thousand calls in state with a population of just over 1 million is damned impressive. The Montana folks had an advantage—they were building off of a structure created to get an initiative for Medicaid expansion on the 2014 ballot. That petition drive failed, but the pieces were in place to get a lobbying effort off the ground. They also recognized they had allies in the Republican-leaning business community, particularly with hospitals and doctors, and secured their help. While the organizing team in Montana might have had a head start, they used the tools and the allies they had at hand. Advocates for Medicaid expansion have the powerful allies in the healthcare industry in every state.
These are all examples that advocates in, say, Florida should be emulating. The Kochs are neck deep in meddling in the negotiations in the state legislature. Florida's hospitals are poised to lose billions without expansion. And the Kochs have a cozy and profitable relationship with Florida's political leaders. Now, Florida is a little more likely to accept the whiff of corruption with a shrug than Montana, but Medicaid advocates they have all the ingredients they need to beat the Kochs.