You're Not Supposed To Know That The CNP Will Meet In Las Vegas
Which is why it's fun to write about it.
The hot ticket for movement conservatives around Valentine's day? The invitation-only meeting of the Council For National Policy.
The group's leaders bristle at the word "secretive," but the CNP does its best to keep prying journalist eyes away. This year, the CNP's several hundred members will meet at a ritzy hotel in Las Vegas -- probably where liberals would least expect.
For nearly a quarter century, the CNP meetings have brought together leading conservative policy intellectuals and political movers and shakers. Candidates who want movement cred often skulk around, as do professional fundraisers and consultants. That's worried some CNP stalwarts, who want to tighten membership requirements and keep the hangers on -- out. Others say the CNP is too stodgy and its members -- the veteran warriors of the movement -- are no longer as relevant.
And competing groups are springing up. About 140 conservatives who call themselves Legacy -- not Legacy group or The Legacy Project, just Legacy -- met in Washington, D.C. this week to assess conservative candidates seeking state and national offices.
hat's partly a trademark of CNP. At a meeting last year in Orlando, members like Paul Weyrich mused about the potential presidential candidacy of Tim Pawlenty.
In 1999, then Texas Gov. George W. Bush won over not a few prominent conservatives by promising that his evangelical faith would inform his policy. One sign of the times: two presidential hopefuls -- Gov. Mitt Romney (R-MA) and Sen. Bill Frist (R-TN) -- spoke to the Legacy.
None are known to be scheduled to speak CNP -- at least not yet. But in one way -- the flowering of competition is testament to CNP's power: founded to spread conservative ideas widely, dozens of conservative movement entrepreneurs owe their success to its success. [MARC AMBINDER]