A Series: The Rise and Fall of the Hispanic Moment in the GOP (Part 1)

This series traces the GOP’s dramatic shift from championing a more inclusive approach to Latinos to adopting a harsh "zero tolerance" stance in just a few short years.

Dear Substacker,
This series is rooted in my personal experiences and observations of the Republican Party’s shifting approach to Latino voters. While immigration is the central theme, my goal is not to dissect policy itself, but rather to shed light on the political strategy and underlying intentions behind outreach to the Latino community.

I personally believe both parties have a responsibility to grow, adapt, and represent a broader coalition. That’s the foundation of democracy: to govern for the many, not just cater to the loudest few.

Too often, politics drifts toward the extremes, leaving moderates behind and real solutions out of reach. Latino voters are not a single-issue bloc, but immigration continues to set the tone for how a party perceives the Latino community. Behind closed doors, it has long influenced how parties strategize—either to engage with Latino voters or to ignore them altogether.

By the end of this series, I’ll address a common misconception: that the Republican Party is steadily winning over Latinos. The truth is more complex. Latino voters remain up for grabs—and both parties must do the hard work to earn their trust.

Now, let me share my story and what I've witnessed over the past decade on this matter…

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PART 1: WHEN IT SEEMED LIKE BOTH PARTIES WANTED IMMIGRATION REFORM

In 2013, I was interning in the Speaker of the House’s office — completely unaware that I was stepping into one of the most pivotal political moments of the decade. What began as a personal career milestone quickly became something much bigger: a front-row seat to a historic shift in American politics, especially for the Latino community.

Just a few months earlier, the 2012 election had sent shockwaves through both political parties. Latino voters turned out in record numbers, playing a pivotal role in delivering President Barack Obama a decisive second term. His campaign had made bold promises on immigration reform — framing it not just as a legislative priority, but as a moral imperative. Obama consistently portrayed immigration as a reflection of American values, highlighting the vital contributions of immigrants and the urgent need for a pathway to citizenship.

That message resonated deeply with Latino voters. They wanted to be seen, heard, and respected — and they overwhelmingly supported immigration reform. According to exit polls analyzed by the Pew Hispanic Center, Obama secured 71% of the Latino vote, while Mitt Romney managed just 27% — one of the worst Republican performances among Latinos in recent memory. It was a wake-up call. These numbers weren’t just statistics; they told the story of a community that had come of age politically.

Latinos made up 10% of the national electorate in 2012, up from 9% in 2008 — a modest jump, but one with major impact. In battleground states,

their influence was undeniable. In Colorado, Obama won 75% of the Latino vote, helping secure a tight victory. In Nevada, he won 70%, and in Florida, where Latinos made up 17% of voters, he carried 60%, helping him edge out Romney in a razor-thin contest.

The message from the numbers was clear: Latinos weren’t just a voting bloc — we were the future. We were the fastest-growing minority in the country, and for a brief moment, it felt like Washington was finally listening. The Republican Party, in particular, found itself in a moment of reckoning. In response to Mitt Romney’s devastating loss— the RNC published what became known as “the Autopsy.” It laid out, in unusually blunt terms, that if the GOP didn’t start appealing to minorities, especially Latinos, it would struggle to remain nationally competitive. It wasn’t just a moral imperative. It was electoral math.

And for a moment, it actually seemed like they meant it- the GOP wanted to expand their base.

That same year, the Senate passed a landmark, bipartisan immigration reform bill — S.744 — championed by the so-called Gang of Eight, a coalition of influential Democrats and Republicans. Among them were Chuck Schumer, John McCain, Lindsey Graham, and Marco Rubio (yes, the same Graham and Rubio who would later become some of Trump’s closest allies). The bill proposed a comprehensive overhaul of the nation’s immigration system: creating a path to citizenship, enhancing border security, and addressing long-standing systemic flaws. It passed the Senate with a decisive 68-vote majority, including support from 14 Republicans.

There was optimism in the air. The sense that real, historic reform was finally within reach. And for many Latinos, it felt like Washington was listening.

Inside Boehner’s office, where I had landed my internship, I remember feeling equal parts intimidated and inspired during this time. I barely understood half the policy acronyms being thrown around. I googled terms under the table during meetings just to keep up. But there was momentum — and even from my desk in the hallway outside the Speaker’s office, I could feel it.