Exactly 10 years ago Monday, Donald Trump descended an escalator and announced his run for president, a moment many now see as the start of the Trump era in American politics.
But the truth is, it didn’t really begin then. The populist energy that would eventually fuel the MAGA movement began a dozen years earlier, in 2003, when a Republican president barely convinced a Republican-led House and Senate to approve a new entitlement: prescription drug coverage for seniors, known as Medicare Part D.
At the time, few realized how pivotal that debate would become for the GOP. But the arguments it sparked laid the groundwork for what followed: from the fight over bailing out banks during the 2008 recession, to the rise of the Tea Party, and eventually, to Trump’s hostile takeover of the Republican Party.
Now, we may be watching another inflection point, one that could shape what the post-Trump GOP becomes.
No, how Americans pay for prescription drugs has basically nothing to do with a war in the Middle East. That said, the political fallout might be very similar as once again the GOP establishment holds one view and the GOP grassroots holds another.
As the emerging war between Israel and Iran is intensifying, so, too, is a divide among Republicans. It’s not just about the conflict itself, but about what it means that it’s happening under Trump’s watch. After all, he ran for president three times on a platform of avoiding foreign wars, especially in the Middle East.
By all accounts, Trump didn’t seek this conflict. In fact, he had reportedly been exploring a deal to dismantle Iran’s nuclear program and told Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu not to attack. But Netanyahu’s decision to launch the most significant attack on Iran in 45 years has forced Trump into a complicated position.
For Trump and the Republicans who align with him the challenge is walking a line: being unequivocally pro-Israel, while remaining faithful to an “America First” foreign policy that opposes getting entangled in another major war without a direct national interest.
To understand how today’s debate might matter down the line, it helps to revisit what happened in 2003.
That year, fresh off strong midterm wins, Republicans saw an opportunity. Drug prices were soaring, and establishment Republicans like President George W. Bush and congressional leaders wanted to expand Medicare, but to do it through the private sector. Their goal was to undercut what they believed would be an eventual Democratic push for a fully government-run drug benefit. That the new program would begin distributing benefits just as Bush ran for reelection was not incidental; it was the point.
Democrats opposed the bill, arguing it was a giveaway to pharmaceutical companies. They were especially outraged by a provision that prohibited Medicare from negotiating drug prices.
But the fiercest resistance came from within the GOP itself. Fiscal conservatives, like then-Representative Mike Pence, saw the plan as a massive expansion of government, no matter how Republican leadership spun it.
The House passed the bill 216–215, but only after holding the vote open for hours to flip Republican “no” votes. In the end, 19 Republicans opposed it of the 220 in the Republican caucus. Nine Democrats crossed the aisle to back it. A similar vote was held in the dead of night, at 3 a.m. on Thanksgiving morning.
Conservative media revolted. Rush Limbaugh, then commanding nearly 20 million weekly listeners, was furious. So were many voices on Fox News.
In 2004, the new law became a flashpoint in GOP Senate primaries in South Carolina and Pennsylvania. Candidates who opposed Medicare Part D defeated sitting officials who had backed it, one a senator, the other a governor, branding them sellouts to big government.
Of course, that was a different Republican Party: one still led by Speaker Dennis Hastert, majority leader Tom DeLay, and united behind the Iraq War, launched just three months before the first Medicare vote.
Today’s GOP is arguably more unified on fiscal policy than on foreign affairs.
On one side, you have voices like Senator Lindsey Graham, who cheered Israel’s strikes on Iran with a simple “game on.” On the other, Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene posted on X: “I don’t want to see Israel bombed or Iran bombed or Gaza bombed. Everyone is finding out who are real America First/MAGA and who were fake and just said it because it was popular. Unfortunately, the list of fakes is becoming quite long and exposed themselves quickly. Anyone slobbering for the U.S. to become fully involved in the Israel/Iran war is not America First/MAGA.”
Arkansas Republican Senator Tom Cotton has taken a different tack, saying: “Iran is the world’s worst state sponsor of terrorism, has the blood of thousands of Americans on its hands, and is rushing to build not only nuclear weapons, but also missiles that can strike the United States. We back Israel to the hilt, all the way.”
Meanwhile, conservative media star Tucker Carlson offered this warning: “The real divide isn’t between people who support Israel and people who support Iran or the Palestinians. The real divide is between those who casually encourage violence, and those who seek to prevent it — between warmongers and peacemakers. Who are the warmongers? They would include anyone who’s calling Donald Trump today to demand air strikes and other direct US military involvement in a war with Iran.”
What’s remarkable isn’t simply that there’s debate over Middle East policy, as Democrats are divided over Gaza, too. What stands out is where the Republican base is and how much power it holds to shape the party.
The GOP base opposed Medicare Part D. It opposed other government expansions. And by 2012, it had grown so disillusioned with party leadership that it turned to Trump.
That’s why this debate over Iran may be about more than geopolitics. It could become the next major throughline shaping the GOP, one that will matter not just in today’s headlines, but in the 2028 presidential election and beyond.