Montana: A Purple Beast in a Red Coat In The Wild Wild West 

Montana has always been politically…weird. It’s never been one thing or the other. It’s purple—not the fashionable kind, but the kind that happens when red and blue punch each other in the face and bleed on the same bar room floor.

From the get-go, Montana was born of contradiction. After the Civil War, a wave of bitter Confederate miners and Southern misfits flooded into the territory—not because they loved mountains, but because they hated Reconstruction. And they weren’t about to vote for the party of Lincoln, no matter how many log cabins he emerged from. These guys helped tip the early scales toward the Democratic Party—not the modern, urban, yoga-class kind, but the “leave me alone and keep your Yankee hands off my whiskey” kind.

The Populist Rodeo

Enter James B. Weaver, a bearded cyclone of prairie populism. His People’s Party made a splash in Montana in the 1890s, railing against banks, railroads, and the gold standard—basically everything east of the Mississippi. Montanans loved it. Weaver didn’t win the presidency, but he planted a seed: deep suspicion of elites, both financial and federal. It was the original “drain the swamp,” but with more oxen.

The populist spark merged nicely with the rise of the working man’s movement. By the early 20th century, Montana’s copper mines were crawling with immigrant laborers who knew how to organize and strike—and occasionally blow something up. Butte was a hotbed of unions, socialists, and anarchists—basically everything your modern HOA fears.

Montana Democrats weren’t limousine liberals. They were miners, timber cutters, and pissed-off farmers who didn’t like Wall Street but still wanted their elk tags. It was blue-collar, calloused-hand populism—and it held sway for decades.

Rugged Red: The Rural Rebellion

Outside Butte, however, Montana remained the land of ranchers, farmers, and folks who considered indoor plumbing a government conspiracy. These were self-reliant, God-fearing folks who could brand a steer, fix a carburetor, and gut a politician in a town hall meeting. They didn’t hate government outright—they just didn’t trust anyone who wore loafers.

This rural conservatism was the counterweight to unionized labor. And as mines closed, mills shrank, and union halls emptied, the cowboys won the arm-wrestling match.

God, Guns, and Grizzlies

Add in religion and things really got spicy. Irish, German and Italian immigrants brought Catholicism. Mormon settlers trickled in from Utah and Idaho with their industrious ways and firm handshakes. Later came Evangelicals, drawn by the wide-open land and the possibility of homeschooling without being arrested. Together, they created a moral backbone that leaned right.

From Purple to Red (But Not Quietly)

Over the last 25 years, Montana has drifted steadily into red territory. Unions shrank. Cultural divides widened. National Democrats got preachier, and Montana voters got twitchier. Add a few doses of D.C. climate policy, social madness and gun control rhetoric, and you’ve got a recipe for a red wave.

Yet Montana still elected a Democrat like Jon Tester for several terms— or endure middling RINOS like the Nasty Nine in the Senate or the Dirty Dozen in the House. We are either politically illiterate, schizophrenic or lack ideological loyalty—or perhaps it’s that old Montana mix: independence, populism, and the ability to gut a fish while cussing out the IRS.

The Final Contradiction

So, what is Montana politically? A place where the copper kings once ruled and labor unions sang protest songs—and now the same counties have anti-tax zealots , but elect Constitutional Liberty sheriffs. A state where people don’t want to be told what to do—but still want their Social Security checks on time.

Montana isn’t purple because it’s centrist. It’s purple because it’s pissed off at both parties, and always has been. God bless it. And good luck trying to explain it.

I love you Montana, my family has been here since 1883, but I will add this: we may do a lot of fighting amongst ourselves, but you outside of Montana people best leave us alone!