The Unmaking of Marjorie Taylor Greene
On the political bingo card of 2025, almost no one had “Trump and Marjorie Taylor Greene as sworn enemies” or “Greene publicly taking responsibility for her behavior.”
But Greene’s support for the Epstein Files Transparency Act, passed with only one vote against releasing the documents, put her directly at odds with the 47th President.
“Lightweight Congresswoman Marjorie Taylor Brown (Green grass turns Brown when it begins to ROT!), betrayed the entire Republican Party when she turned Left, performed poorly on the pathetic View, and became the RINO that we all know she always was. Just another Fake politician, no different than Rand Paul Jr. (Thomas Massie), who got caught being a full fledged Republican In Name Only (RINO)! MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!!!” Trump posted on Truth Social on Sunday.
It’s not the first time Greene’s posture has shifted under pressure; she often leans into extremes for her base, then pivots when the cost becomes personal.
That split showed up earlier in the term, when Greene followed a high-profile stretch of confrontational floor behavior, including the State of the Union fur-coat heckling, with a calm, friendly exchange with the Rev. Jesse Jackson Sr. at his son’s swearing-in. The moment stood out because it didn’t match her public persona.
Now that Trump has turned on her, Greene has begun addressing that contradiction directly. On CNN, she apologized for her role in “toxic politics” and said Trump calling her a “traitor” could endanger her. She added that Charlie Kirk’s assassination forced her to reconsider how far political rhetoric had gone.
Greene’s shift puts her in familiar political territory. Many Republicans who broke with Trump were sidelined, but Greene is different: she was one of the MAGA movement’s most visible figures and a frequent target for critics of both Trump and the ideology around him.
If there’s a precedent, it isn’t in today’s Republican Party. Greene’s current arc most closely mirrors that of former Alabama Gov. George Wallace.
The parallels are clear: both were central figures in their movements, used confrontational rhetoric to rally their bases, and cast themselves as defenders of “American values” against internal threats. Both also faced the risks of escalating political volatility: Wallace through an attempt on his life which paralyzed him, and Greene through threats and backlash from the movement that once championed her.
That’s also where the comparison diverges. Greene may now be acknowledging her role in escalating political rhetoric, but that recognition doesn’t erase her record or the national impact of her words and actions.
Late in his career, George Wallace tried to reckon with his record, publicly apologizing for his Civil Rights–era actions, including to the Black students he once blocked from their classrooms. But history still defines him by the harm, not the remorse; and he apologized in a political era far more forgiving than today.
Greene’s name still sparks anger among those affected by her rhetoric: families of school-shooting victims she dismissed or mocked, people who lived through the violence of January 6 that she has downplayed, and communities hit by the policies she backed; from insurance battles to her support for restricting gender-affirming care for transgender youth.
So what can she do now? Not much. The damage is extensive, the backlash real, and rebuilding trust is far harder than breaking it. But “not much” isn’t the same as “nothing.”
If Greene wants any kind of reset, it won’t come from televised apologies or distancing herself from Trump. It would take sustained, visible work: showing up for the communities she spent years attacking, acknowledging the harm, and backing policies that reflect an actual shift rather than a strategic pivot.
There’s no shortcut. Wallace spent decades trying to repair the damage he caused, and history still rendered its verdict. Greene faces the same reality: whatever credibility she has left depends entirely on what she does from here and how consistently she does it.
It’s a steep climb, but politics has already made room for outcomes once considered unthinkable. Whether she attempts that climb, and whether anyone believes it, is the only uncertainty left.
