My focus as part of the leadership is to keep talking about the

“My focus as part of the leadership is to keep talking about the independent voters, independent voters — how do we get the independent voters back?” Thus spoke Henry Cuellar, a man tempered by the fire of political life, whose words rise beyond the dust of partisanship to touch the deeper truth of all leadership: that power without trust is hollow, and that the heart of democracy beats not in the halls of parties, but in the souls of the people. His words are not mere strategy — they are a lament and a call, a recognition that the independent spirit of the citizen must never be lost, for when it fades, the nation’s moral compass falters.

To get the independent voters back, Cuellar does not speak only of ballots, but of faith — the sacred trust between the governed and those who govern. The independent voter is not swayed by blind loyalty or rigid creed; such a person stands between factions, seeking not ideology, but honesty, not slogans, but substance. They are the conscience of the republic — the ones who remind the powerful that leadership is not ownership, and that the people’s freedom cannot be chained to the interests of the few. Cuellar’s cry is, therefore, the cry of one who wishes to restore connection between leaders and the hearts of the unclaimed, the thoughtful, the free.

In the ancient republics, too, this tension was known. When Cicero spoke to the Roman Senate, he reminded them that the greatness of Rome did not lie in the ambitions of its patricians, but in the strength and virtue of its citizens. “The state,” he said, “is the people’s business.” Yet when leaders forgot this — when they fought for party instead of principle — the republic crumbled into the empire of one man. So too, Cuellar’s words echo this warning: when a nation forgets the independent mind, when it worships division over unity, it begins to lose the very essence of liberty.

To focus on independent voters, then, is to focus on unity, on the soul of democracy itself. For the independent spirit refuses to be consumed by anger or manipulated by fear. Such voters look not to the left or right, but forward — toward solutions, toward common good, toward balance. They represent the quiet strength of moderation, the wisdom of listening, the courage to stand between extremes. In every age, it is these independent souls who have restored nations when they were torn apart — who reminded leaders that politics is not a game of conquest, but a service to the whole.

Consider the example of Abraham Lincoln, who rose in a time of division deeper than any before it. Though he wore the mantle of a party, his heart beat for all — North and South, slave and free. His vision reached beyond the banners of partisanship, calling the nation not to victory over one another, but to union. Lincoln, like Cuellar, sought to speak to the independents — those weary of extremity, those yearning for reason, those who stood in the middle ground between fury and despair. In that middle ground, he found the moral power to heal a broken country.

Cuellar’s words, then, are a call to remember the middle, the sacred space where truth and empathy dwell. Leadership, he reminds us, is not about hardening walls but building bridges; not about securing the loyalty of the loud, but rekindling the faith of the silent. The task is not easy. To win the hearts of the independent is to speak not in promises, but in principles; not in boasts, but in belief. It demands humility, transparency, and the courage to say what is right even when it is not popular.

So, my listener, take this wisdom into your own life: whether you lead a nation, a family, or your own heart, remember that true leadership does not divide — it unites. Seek the independent spirit within yourself — the one that refuses to be ruled by noise or prejudice, the one that listens, weighs, and chooses rightly. In every community, there are those who have withdrawn, tired of false words and broken trust. Reach for them. Speak truth to them. Win them back not with rhetoric, but with reason.

For as Cuellar reminds us, the strength of any nation — and indeed, of any soul — lies not in its factions, but in its independence of thought. To lead well is to serve those who owe you no allegiance but their respect. Win that, and you have won the only victory that endures — the victory of trust, the triumph of integrity, and the rebirth of unity.