GOP Civil War: Mace Slams Party, Praises Pelosi Leadership

Paul Riverbank, 12/9/2025Nancy Mace's Pelosi praise spotlights GOP turmoil, internal divides, and Republican leadership challenges.

Mace didn’t waste time on polite hedging. “Here’s a hard truth Republicans don’t want to hear,” she wrote, “Nancy Pelosi was a more effective House speaker than any Republican this century.” Coming from a lawmaker who shares little if any policy ground with Pelosi, the remark stood out—especially as Republican leadership faces its own reckoning.

It’s not the first time Capitol Hill’s private frustrations find a public audience. The GOP’s slender House majority has fostered impatience, some of it audible in elevator rides and House cafeterias alike. Mace’s criticism was broad, but she took care to note that Speaker Mike Johnson, in her view, represented a step up from previous leadership. That compliment, though, came bundled with a sharper critique: backbench voices are too often left out in Republican strategy huddles. “The frustrations of being a rank-and-file House member are compounded as certain individuals or groups remain marginalized within the party,” she explained, hinting at untapped ideas left unheeded.

It isn’t just structural complaint. One passage, delicate but barbed, cut to the heart of gender politics in the House: “Women will never be taken seriously until leadership decides to take us seriously, and I’m no longer holding my breath.” For over a decade, Republican women have held the conference chair role—a position with visibility, but, as Mace suggests, little bite. One senior GOP aide, who requested anonymity to speak candidly, likened it to “being handed the microphone at karaoke night after the big decisions have already been made.”

Mace isn't alone in airing these irritations. Marjorie Taylor Greene—better known for her blunt style than bipartisan nostalgia—recently nodded to Pelosi’s skill at twisting arms. “I served under [Pelosi’s] speakership in my first term… I’m very impressed at her ability to get things done. I wish we could get things done for our party like Nancy Pelosi was able to deliver for her party,” Greene remarked, sounding half-awed, half-exasperated.

Such candor arrives as a string of retirements, public policy brawls, and open sniping spill into public forums. Troy Nehls and Jodey Arrington have signaled their unease, while Elise Stefanik’s recent social media posts target Speaker Johnson for blocking a measure meant to unearth perceived abuses in federal investigations—a move Stefanik says leaves “the deep state” untouched. Greene promptly seconded the sentiment: “No surprises here… promises made, promises broken.”

Johnson, for his part, remains on message. He enumerated GOP wins—lowering costs, pushing “America First” welfare and healthcare tweaks, and providing cover for working-class narratives—on every friendly broadcast slot available. “When Republicans stay unified, we can achieve ANYTHING! Even with one of the smallest majorities in history, we’ve delivered the most productive Republican Congress of our lifetimes,” reads a recent post, full of the bullet-pointed optimism that’s become his signature.

Even academic observers are taking note. Robert Y. Shapiro at Columbia, in conversation last week, pointed out Johnson’s difficult hand: “He’s doing what he can with a fractured caucus,” said Shapiro, adding that Johnson is caught between internal revolts and the ever-present shadow of Donald Trump, who could undermine him at a moment’s notice.

The external pressures aren’t any lighter. Save America Movement PAC—a group of erstwhile GOP strategists—has ramped up its “Save America Seats” push, betting $100 million on peeling vulnerable districts away from embattled Republicans. “The Save America Movement was started with the express mission of defeating MAGA,” says co-founder Mary Corcoran, pointing to modest but symbolically powerful Democratic advances, including that razor-thin result in a reliably Republican Tennessee district.

Brandon Hall, a campaign adviser to the Save America group, doesn’t mince words about their aims. “We can’t truly break the MAGA movement until these Republican members of Congress are more afraid of their own voters than they are of Donald Trump.” That sort of language—once reserved for off-the-record strategy calls—now surfaces in public press releases.

In the midst of these crosscurrents, Republican strategists pore over county maps and fever charts of base enthusiasm, searching for a formula to re-weave party unity. The GOP once prided itself on pragmatism and early voter outreach, but with its coalition frayed by ideological, generational, and gender divides, harmony feels elusive.

For all the punditry, Mace’s op-ed endures—her frustration a touchstone for those who feel voiceless in the current scramble for relevance. The coming months are likely to test the party’s ability to bridge its own divides, keep the majority’s thin veneer intact, and deliver on promises to constituents who, if past cycles are any illustration, have less patience than ever for same-old Washington politics.

When you slide through the creaky doors at the Cannon House Office Building, the rhythms of Congress are sharpest late in the session. Lawmakers cluster in narrow corridors, half-empty coffee cups in hand, muttering about strategy and leadership. This week, one of the sharper elbows belonged to South Carolina's Nancy Mace, who, in a New York Times op-ed, tossed a grenade into her own party's ranks.Mace didn’t waste time on polite hedging. “Here’s a hard truth Republicans don’t want to hear,” she wrote, “Nancy Pelosi was a more effective House speaker than any Republican this century.” Coming from a lawmaker who shares little if any policy ground with Pelosi, the remark stood out—especially as Republican leadership faces its own reckoning.It’s not the first time Capitol Hill’s private frustrations find a public audience. The GOP’s slender House majority has fostered impatience, some of it audible in elevator rides and House cafeterias alike. Mace’s criticism was broad, but she took care to note that Speaker Mike Johnson, in her view, represented a step up from previous leadership. That compliment, though, came bundled with a sharper critique: backbench voices are too often left out in Republican strategy huddles. “The frustrations of being a rank-and-file House member are compounded as certain individuals or groups remain marginalized within the party,” she explained, hinting at untapped ideas left unheeded.It isn’t just structural complaint. One passage, delicate but barbed, cut to the heart of gender politics in the House: “Women will never be taken seriously until leadership decides to take us seriously, and I’m no longer holding my breath.” For over a decade, Republican women have held the conference chair role—a position with visibility, but, as Mace suggests, little bite. One senior GOP aide, who requested anonymity to speak candidly, likened it to “being handed the microphone at karaoke night after the big decisions have already been made.”Mace isn't alone in airing these irritations. Marjorie Taylor Greene—better known for her blunt style than bipartisan nostalgia—recently nodded to Pelosi’s skill at twisting arms. “I served under [Pelosi’s] speakership in my first term… I’m very impressed at her ability to get things done. I wish we could get things done for our party like Nancy Pelosi was able to deliver for her party,” Greene remarked, sounding half-awed, half-exasperated.Such candor arrives as a string of retirements, public policy brawls, and open sniping spill into public forums. Troy Nehls and Jodey Arrington have signaled their unease, while Elise Stefanik’s recent social media posts target Speaker Johnson for blocking a measure meant to unearth perceived abuses in federal investigations—a move Stefanik says leaves “the deep state” untouched. Greene promptly seconded the sentiment: “No surprises here… promises made, promises broken.”Johnson, for his part, remains on message. He enumerated GOP wins—lowering costs, pushing “America First” welfare and healthcare tweaks, and providing cover for working-class narratives—on every friendly broadcast slot available. “When Republicans stay unified, we can achieve ANYTHING! Even with one of the smallest majorities in history, we’ve delivered the most productive Republican Congress of our lifetimes,” reads a recent post, full of the bullet-pointed optimism that’s become his signature.Even academic observers are taking note. Robert Y. Shapiro at Columbia, in conversation last week, pointed out Johnson’s difficult hand: “He’s doing what he can with a fractured caucus,” said Shapiro, adding that Johnson is caught between internal revolts and the ever-present shadow of Donald Trump, who could undermine him at a moment’s notice.The external pressures aren’t any lighter. Save America Movement PAC—a group of erstwhile GOP strategists—has ramped up its “Save America Seats” push, betting $100 million on peeling vulnerable districts away from embattled Republicans. “The Save America Movement was started with the express mission of defeating MAGA,” says co-founder Mary Corcoran, pointing to modest but symbolically powerful Democratic advances, including that razor-thin result in a reliably Republican Tennessee district.Brandon Hall, a campaign adviser to the Save America group, doesn’t mince words about their aims. “We can’t truly break the MAGA movement until these Republican members of Congress are more afraid of their own voters than they are of Donald Trump.” That sort of language—once reserved for off-the-record strategy calls—now surfaces in public press releases.In the midst of these crosscurrents, Republican strategists pore over county maps and fever charts of base enthusiasm, searching for a formula to re-weave party unity. The GOP once prided itself on pragmatism and early voter outreach, but with its coalition frayed by ideological, generational, and gender divides, harmony feels elusive.For all the punditry, Mace’s op-ed endures—her frustration a touchstone for those who feel voiceless in the current scramble for relevance. The coming months are likely to test the party’s ability to bridge its own divides, keep the majority’s thin veneer intact, and deliver on promises to constituents who, if past cycles are any illustration, have less patience than ever for same-old Washington politics.