Republicans Sound Alarm: Is the Red Wall Crumbling?

Paul Riverbank, 12/3/2025Can Democrats crack Tennessee’s “red wall”? A fiercely contested special election tests GOP dominance.

It’s the sort of district long described, without irony, as “the red wall.” For years, Republicans barely worked up a sweat here. Donald Trump carried the area handily in 2024, outpacing Democrats by more than twenty points. Mark Green racked up equally lopsided wins. Joe Gruters, the head of the RNC, stuck to the usual rhetoric: “Tennessee is the red wall. So they’re not getting past Tennessee. We’re going to win this race. This is our territory.”

But you can almost hear an undertone of nerves, even in the confident voices. Special elections, with their unpredictable turnout and sudden swings of enthusiasm, leave party strategists wide-eyed and caffeinated through the night. “We cannot take anything for granted,” House Speaker Mike Johnson insisted during a pep talk, sounding more like a high school football coach than the lead Republican in Congress.

Money poured in from outside Tennessee, a sure sign that neither side trusted the old assumptions. Republicans put close to half a million dollars behind their pick, Matt Van Epps—a West Point grad with a military background and Trump’s endorsement sewn into his campaign materials. Democrats responded by hustling national cash and energy to boost Aftyn Behn, hoping to capture some wildfire momentum from those surprising blue upsets in New York, New Jersey, and Virginia.

Behn, who comes from a background in community organizing and is currently a state lawmaker, aimed to frame the battle as something bigger than old party lines. “This race is a lot closer than they [Republicans] ever expected,” she assured her supporters—though that message, in this terrain, was always uphill work.

Tennessee politics rarely features the kind of bruising, personal crossfire that exploded this month. Van Epps and Republican surrogates blitzed Behn over past statements, labeling her “as far left as you can get” and “a rubber stamp for AOC and Hakeem Jeffries.” Johnson didn’t push subtlety either, warning conservative crowds that Behn was “a dangerous far leftist.” Some campaigners even went so far as to play soundbites from a 2020 podcast where Behn let loose about urban annoyances: “I hate the city, I hate the bachelorettes, I hate the pedal taverns, I hate country music.”

It didn’t take long for Donald Trump to dial in and escalate the rhetoric. “Behn hates Christianity and country music,” he declared, tacking on a familiar flourish: “The whole world is watching Tennessee right now.”

Caught in the crosshairs, Behn spoke with CNN to clarify—her gripes, she said, were about daily frustrations living downtown, “like any Nashvillian.” But, she argued, the campaign should center on real issues: families squeezed by rising costs, not cultural squabbles about country music and tourist traffic.

Other old quotes surfaced—this time, her comments about local police budgets. When pushed by CNN’s Kasie Hunt, Behn wouldn’t say outright whether more money for police would make the district safer. Instead, she steered the answer back to broader community investments: “At least my constituents want to ensure there is investment in their community for community safety, community protection, mental health services.” Her caution reflected the pressures of running in a red district, but drew more fire from Republican opponents as evidence she was out of step.

For the GOP, these moments only sharpened their resolve to hold the line in a district they see as a bellwether for the next round of midterms. The Republicans closed ranks, putting Governor Bill Lee, the state’s two senators, and even primary opponents onstage for Van Epps. On the Democratic side, Behn picked up backing from progressive heavyweights like AOC, Rep. Pramila Jayapal, grassroots leaders such as LaTosha Brown, and, in a nod to old Tennessee ties, even Al Gore.

Midterm arithmetic has made every congressional seat feel critical, and both strategists and pundits are reading tea leaves from the Tennessee contest. As DNC deputy communications chief Abhi Rahman remarked, “If a Trump +22 seat is where Republicans are drawing the line and making their final stand, they should get ready to be in the minority after the midterms next year.”

Van Epps, meanwhile, told friendly crowds he expects “a decisive win.” Yet for Democrats, simply keeping the margin close would send ripples through national politics—suggesting that in even the most fortress-like districts, the foundations might be shifting.

Tennessee’s 7th won’t decide the fate of Congress on its own, but the race has become a yardstick for measuring enthusiasm, turnout, and the nerviness of party leaders. No one, it seems, is treating the district as “safe” anymore—proof that in 2024’s hyper-charged landscape, even the surest bets come with sweaty palms and sleepless nights.

Strange things happen in American politics when the glare of a special election descends on an otherwise overlooked swath of the country, and that’s more apparent than ever this summer in Tennessee’s 7th Congressional District. This isn’t a corner of the map that sparks national drama under normal circumstances. Yet in the aftermath of Mark Green’s resignation, the area—wedged between Kentucky and Alabama, tracing from rural counties into shards of Nashville—has found the spotlight.It’s the sort of district long described, without irony, as “the red wall.” For years, Republicans barely worked up a sweat here. Donald Trump carried the area handily in 2024, outpacing Democrats by more than twenty points. Mark Green racked up equally lopsided wins. Joe Gruters, the head of the RNC, stuck to the usual rhetoric: “Tennessee is the red wall. So they’re not getting past Tennessee. We’re going to win this race. This is our territory.”But you can almost hear an undertone of nerves, even in the confident voices. Special elections, with their unpredictable turnout and sudden swings of enthusiasm, leave party strategists wide-eyed and caffeinated through the night. “We cannot take anything for granted,” House Speaker Mike Johnson insisted during a pep talk, sounding more like a high school football coach than the lead Republican in Congress.Money poured in from outside Tennessee, a sure sign that neither side trusted the old assumptions. Republicans put close to half a million dollars behind their pick, Matt Van Epps—a West Point grad with a military background and Trump’s endorsement sewn into his campaign materials. Democrats responded by hustling national cash and energy to boost Aftyn Behn, hoping to capture some wildfire momentum from those surprising blue upsets in New York, New Jersey, and Virginia.Behn, who comes from a background in community organizing and is currently a state lawmaker, aimed to frame the battle as something bigger than old party lines. “This race is a lot closer than they [Republicans] ever expected,” she assured her supporters—though that message, in this terrain, was always uphill work.Tennessee politics rarely features the kind of bruising, personal crossfire that exploded this month. Van Epps and Republican surrogates blitzed Behn over past statements, labeling her “as far left as you can get” and “a rubber stamp for AOC and Hakeem Jeffries.” Johnson didn’t push subtlety either, warning conservative crowds that Behn was “a dangerous far leftist.” Some campaigners even went so far as to play soundbites from a 2020 podcast where Behn let loose about urban annoyances: “I hate the city, I hate the bachelorettes, I hate the pedal taverns, I hate country music.”It didn’t take long for Donald Trump to dial in and escalate the rhetoric. “Behn hates Christianity and country music,” he declared, tacking on a familiar flourish: “The whole world is watching Tennessee right now.”Caught in the crosshairs, Behn spoke with CNN to clarify—her gripes, she said, were about daily frustrations living downtown, “like any Nashvillian.” But, she argued, the campaign should center on real issues: families squeezed by rising costs, not cultural squabbles about country music and tourist traffic.Other old quotes surfaced—this time, her comments about local police budgets. When pushed by CNN’s Kasie Hunt, Behn wouldn’t say outright whether more money for police would make the district safer. Instead, she steered the answer back to broader community investments: “At least my constituents want to ensure there is investment in their community for community safety, community protection, mental health services.” Her caution reflected the pressures of running in a red district, but drew more fire from Republican opponents as evidence she was out of step.For the GOP, these moments only sharpened their resolve to hold the line in a district they see as a bellwether for the next round of midterms. The Republicans closed ranks, putting Governor Bill Lee, the state’s two senators, and even primary opponents onstage for Van Epps. On the Democratic side, Behn picked up backing from progressive heavyweights like AOC, Rep. Pramila Jayapal, grassroots leaders such as LaTosha Brown, and, in a nod to old Tennessee ties, even Al Gore.Midterm arithmetic has made every congressional seat feel critical, and both strategists and pundits are reading tea leaves from the Tennessee contest. As DNC deputy communications chief Abhi Rahman remarked, “If a Trump +22 seat is where Republicans are drawing the line and making their final stand, they should get ready to be in the minority after the midterms next year.”Van Epps, meanwhile, told friendly crowds he expects “a decisive win.” Yet for Democrats, simply keeping the margin close would send ripples through national politics—suggesting that in even the most fortress-like districts, the foundations might be shifting.Tennessee’s 7th won’t decide the fate of Congress on its own, but the race has become a yardstick for measuring enthusiasm, turnout, and the nerviness of party leaders. No one, it seems, is treating the district as “safe” anymore—proof that in 2024’s hyper-charged landscape, even the surest bets come with sweaty palms and sleepless nights.