BATON ROUGE, La. — When the U.S. Senate voted to convict former President Donald Trump over his role in the Jan. 6 insurrection, seven Republican senators broke with their party. Most of those senators have since retired. Bill Cassidy did not. Now the Louisiana Republican, a physician-turned-lawmaker seeking a third term, is putting that controversial vote to the electorate — and the result will signal how much clout Trump retains inside the GOP.
Cassidy faces a crowded primary that includes Congresswoman Julia Letlow, who carries Trump’s endorsement, and former Rep. John Fleming, a Trump administration veteran. The top two finishers advance to a runoff if no one clears 50 percent. The contest has exposed a split among Louisiana Republicans between voters who want absolute loyalty to Trump and those who prize independence and institutional competence.
At the Breaux Bridge Crawfish Festival, a familiar slice of Louisiana life with music, races and plates of boiled shellfish, opinions were starkly divided. Retired deputy sheriff Kevin Dupree said Cassidy’s conviction vote was unforgivable and that Cassidy’s political career in the state was over. “If you cross me, I probably won’t trust you anymore,” Dupree said.
Nearby, Kelby Daigle, chairman of the St. Martin Parish Republican Party, disagreed. Daigle acknowledged that Cassidy hasn’t always explained his choice well to voters, but he defended the senator’s willingness to break with the party when he thought it was right. “Conservatism is about ideas and principles,” Daigle said, criticizing what he views as the party’s fixation on a single personality.
For many primary voters, though, Trump remains the central figure. Dustin Jacque Arnaud, a Republican activist in Lafayette Parish, said he votes for those the president endorses. Letlow, who won a 2021 special election to succeed her late husband Luke Letlow in Congress, has embraced Trump’s agenda and is running as a MAGA-aligned alternative to Cassidy.
Letlow’s priorities in the House have included education and parental rights measures. She introduced a “Parents Bill of Rights” proposal that would expand parental access to classroom materials and require schools to inform parents about certain student requests around pronouns and facilities. She also serves on the Appropriations Committee and has presented herself as both a fighter for conservative cultural issues and a reliable vote for Trump’s policies.
Cassidy, a former gastroenterologist who chairs the Senate Health Committee, is pitching his record of delivering federal dollars to Louisiana and getting legislation enacted. He frequently points to bills the president signed that Cassidy helped negotiate, including measures aimed at lowering prescription drug costs and curbing fentanyl trafficking. On the campaign trail he often leans away from re‑litigation of the 2020 election and asks voters to focus on practical results for the state.
In Denham Springs and at a Baton Rouge rally, Cassidy emphasized local projects he says he secured after catastrophic flooding a decade ago, noting his role in negotiating elements of the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law. Supporters at his events, wearing “Geaux Bill” stickers and handing out flyers showing Cassidy with Trump, praised his work bringing money and attention to Louisiana needs.
That mix of accomplishments and independence is both his strength and his vulnerability. Some voters view Cassidy’s occasional departures from party orthodoxy as evidence of integrity; others see them as political betrayal. Leslie Davis, a Cassidy backer, says she has to persuade friends who are suspicious of politicians who do not follow the crowd. “If I’m a parent, I have to make hard decisions that other people are not going to understand. But you do what you believe is right,” she told NPR.
Cassidy has also tried to broaden his appeal beyond Republicans. In recent weeks he urged Democrats who value his independence to switch their registration and vote in the GOP primary after the state closed its historically open primary system. Gov. Jeff Landry backed the change, which prevents many Democrats from requesting Republican ballots unless they change affiliation — a move that Cassidy and some allies warned would limit his cross‑over support.
Eli Feinstein, who recently changed his registration from Democrat to no party so he could vote for Cassidy, represents the type of moderate or independent voter Cassidy hopes to attract. Feinstein said he disagrees with Cassidy on many issues but admires his willingness to work across the aisle and his record of public service.
Not all moderates are convinced. Some Democrats and independents view Cassidy’s outreach skeptically and note that he has sometimes supported legislation with conservative aims, including his vote to advance Robert F. Kennedy Jr. for a Cabinet post despite concerns about Kennedy’s views on vaccines. Other Republicans say Cassidy occasionally tries to straddle opposing factions and risks pleasing neither.
“He’s got a push from both sides — those who want unqualified fealty to Trump on one side and those who want somebody to stand up to Trump on the other side,” former Lt. Gov. Jay Dardenne said. “Bill is trying to be both things and it may wind up costing him.”
Trump’s endorsement of Letlow has reshaped the race. Letlow is a new kind of GOP recruit for the former president: younger, aligned with cultural conservative priorities, and presented as a reliable vote. The Cassidy campaign has sought to blunt her appeal by highlighting past support Letlow gave to diversity and inclusion initiatives during her time in higher education, casting her as less conservative than she portrays.
John Fleming, the other major challenger, has remained competitive, tapping into traditional conservative networks and arguing for stronger loyalty to Trump’s agenda. With three prominent Republicans splitting the vote, it is possible no candidate will top 50 percent and the top two will face off in a runoff.
Political analysts say Cassidy’s race will be watched as a test case. Of the seven GOP senators who voted to convict Trump, many stepped aside rather than face primaries. Susan Collins of Maine and Lisa Murkowski of Alaska remain the only other senators from that group in office; Collins faces reelection this year without a primary challenger, and Murkowski survived a competitive race in 2022 under Alaska’s unusual primary system that allowed independents to play a role.
Murkowski has privately encouraged Cassidy to stand firm. “Stay strong, my friend,” she told him, noting that Trump’s endorsement still wields considerable influence. Observers caution, however, that Louisiana’s politics are unique: a diverse mix of Creole, Catholic and other identities that make the state’s electorate unlike many others.
On the ground, voters like Will Coenen — who has backed Trump in the past but worries about foreign policy and other issues — are searching for a candidate they can trust on substance rather than personality. Others, like Debbie Spinks, say they sense opportunism when politicians pivot toward popular positions during election season and are skeptical of Cassidy’s recent maneuvers.
The stakes extend beyond one Senate seat. If Cassidy were to lose, Republicans would shed one of their comparatively independent senators at a time when party cohesion around Trump has deepened. That could narrow the space for bipartisan deal‑making on issues such as health, infrastructure and immigration.
For Cassidy, the campaign is a test of whether a Republican senator who occasionally breaks with the party’s most dominant figure can still win in a state where Trump remains powerful. The outcome will shed light on whether voters reward legislative experience and pragmatic results, or insist on absolute loyalty to a national political brand.
As primary day approaches, Cassidy’s message is simple: he argues he has delivered for Louisiana and recorded tangible wins, and he asks voters to judge him on that record. His opponents argue loyalty to Trump matters more.
Whichever way the electorate leans, the race will be watched closely in Washington as another indicator of the balance of power inside the Republican Party and the viability of an independent‑minded conservative in today’s polarized politics.