You won't hear the leadership in the Republican Party admit it

Hear, O people of the present age, the fiery words of Virgil Goode, who once declared: “You won’t hear the leadership in the Republican Party admit it, but there are many in the House and Senate who know that illegal immigration has to be stopped and legal immigration has to be reduced. We are giving away the country so a few very rich people can get richer.” In this cry is heard both anger and warning, a lament that the voice of the many is silenced by the interests of the few. For here the struggle is not only about borders and laws, but about power, wealth, and the destiny of a nation.

The meaning of his words is not hidden: Goode warns that policies of immigration, both legal and illegal, are shaped not by the will of the people but by the hands of the wealthy, who profit from cheap labor and the weakening of wages. He accuses the leadership of his own party of silence, of unwillingness to speak what is whispered in private. To him, this silence is betrayal, for it leaves the people unguarded while the gates of the nation are opened for the profit of the few.

History offers many echoes of this warning. Recall the decline of Rome, when the vast estates of the rich absorbed the lands of the small farmer. Migrants from conquered provinces filled the cities, and the Senate, beholden to the wealthy, ignored the cries of the common citizen. Men like the Gracchi brothers rose to call for reform, warning that the Republic was being given away to the powerful few. For their courage, they were struck down, but their words live still as testimony that when wealth outweighs the voice of the people, a nation’s strength begins to falter.

The origin of Goode’s cry lies in the modern struggles of America, where questions of immigration stir fierce debate. For some, immigration is a blessing, bringing vitality and labor to the land. For others, it is a burden, straining the bonds of culture and economy. Goode placed himself among the latter, believing that too much entry—lawful or unlawful—served not the people as a whole, but the interests of those who grew richer while wages shrank and communities changed. His words echo the old suspicion that leaders too often serve rich men while neglecting the common folk.

But the heart of his message is broader than immigration alone. It is about leadership and the duty of rulers to speak truth rather than conceal it. He condemns those who know one thing in private but proclaim another in public, fearing the loss of position or the wrath of powerful donors. This, he suggests, is the root of corruption: when leaders prize wealth and favor over honesty and the well-being of the people they serve.

The lesson, O listener, is sharp as a blade: beware of silence where truth is required. A nation does not perish from enemies alone, but from the cowardice of its leaders and the apathy of its people. Whether one agrees with Goode’s remedy or not, his words remind us that policies crafted in secret for the gain of a few will always wound the many. And when the common voice is ignored, anger grows, trust withers, and unity breaks.

Practical action lies before you: demand honesty from your leaders; do not allow them to whisper one thing in the halls of power and shout another on the stage of politics. Examine not only the words of parties, but the interests that guide them. Seek policies that balance compassion with justice, and guard against those who would sell the nation’s future for their own wealth. Above all, speak when silence is demanded of you, for silence is the ally of corruption.

Thus remember Virgil Goode’s warning: that the country may be given away if its people do not hold their leaders accountable. Whether on the question of immigration or any matter of justice, the truth must be spoken, and the interests of the people must outweigh the greed of the few. This is the eternal call of democracy—that rulers serve not themselves, but those who entrusted them with power.