TL;DR — The Short Version
For five years, Bill Cassidy watched Trump dismantle public health, attack Louisiana families, and bulldoze American institutions — and he said almost nothing, because he needed Trump voters to keep his job. He voted to confirm RFK Jr. He ran MAGA-style attack ads. He courted Trump’s approval even as Trump publicly humiliated him. Then Trump endorsed his opponent, Cassidy lost, and suddenly — within 72 hours of his defeat — he found the courage he’d been hoarding for years. He voted against Trump’s Iran war. He blasted the White House ballroom. He called a Trump-endorsed AG candidate a “felon.” Don’t be fooled. This isn’t courage. This is a man with nothing left to lose, finally spending a currency he should have spent when it actually cost him something.
Key Points
- During his campaign, Cassidy ran MAGA-style attack ads, touted his working relationship with Trump, and voted to confirm RFK Jr. as HHS Secretary — the man he privately knew was unqualified and dangerous — in a desperate bid to win back Trump voters.
- Trump repaid Cassidy’s loyalty by calling him a “sleazebag” and a “disloyal disaster” on social media, then endorsing Rep. Julia Letlow and backing her through Election Day. Cassidy finished third.
- Within 72 hours of losing, Cassidy voted for the Iran war powers resolution, blasted the $1 billion White House ballroom as fiscally reckless, signaled he’d hold RFK Jr. “accountable,” and called Trump-endorsed AG candidate Ken Paxton a “felon.”
- As a physician and Senate HELP Committee chair, Cassidy had the platform, the credentials, and the moral authority to block RFK Jr.’s confirmation. He chose his political survival over the health of Louisiana families instead.
- When Trump called immigrants “dehumanizing” and threatened ICE violence in Minnesota, Cassidy issued carefully worded statements — then voted with his party anyway. Courage without consequence is not courage.
- The voters Cassidy now claims to be fighting for were available to him during the campaign. He never built a coalition around them. He never spoke their language. He chose MAGA over them — until MAGA chose someone else over him.
He had the power to protect us. He chose to protect himself. Now that he’s lost, he wants us to call it courage.
By Jeff Thomas | Black Source Media | May 2026
Let’s be clear about what is happening with Bill Cassidy right now.
Within 72 hours of losing his Senate primary — after finishing a humiliating third behind two Trump loyalists in a race he spent nearly $22 million to win — Cassidy voted for the Iran war powers resolution, publicly blasted the $1 billion White House ballroom as fiscally reckless, signaled he would hold RFK Jr. “accountable,” and called Trump-endorsed attorney general candidate Ken Paxton a “felon.” The media is calling it his “Cassidy Unchained” era. Some are cautiously praising his newfound independence.
Don’t be fooled. What we are watching is not courage. It is the most expensive hypocrisy Louisiana politics has produced in years.
He Knew Who Trump Was. He Supported Him Anyway.
Bill Cassidy is a physician. He is not a stupid man. He knew exactly what Donald Trump was when he voted to convict him after January 6th — a moment that briefly suggested Cassidy might be willing to put principle over politics. The Louisiana Republican Party censured him for it almost immediately. And from that moment forward, Cassidy spent the next five years doing everything in his power to earn back Trump’s approval, even as Trump made clear he would never give it.
He spoke glowingly of Trump’s second term. He touted how well the two of them worked together — even as he privately acknowledged that Trump despised him. He ran MAGA-style attack ads against Rep. Julia Letlow, hammering her on DEI, trying to out-conservative a field of conservatives who had the one thing he would never have: Trump’s blessing. When Trump went on Truth Social and called him a “sleazebag” and a “disloyal disaster,” Cassidy told reporters, “He’s not a voter in Louisiana. I’ve got to be concerned about my state.” It was the most defiant thing he said during the entire campaign — and it was about Trump insulting him personally, not about the people of Louisiana being harmed by Trump’s policies.
That tells you everything you need to know about Bill Cassidy’s priorities.
The RFK Jr. Vote: The Betrayal Louisiana Will Not Forget
Nothing in Cassidy’s record during the campaign was more revealing — or more damning — than his vote to confirm Robert F. Kennedy Jr. as Secretary of Health and Human Services.
Cassidy is a medical doctor. He serves as chairman of the Senate HELP Committee, the body with direct oversight of the nation’s public health infrastructure. He questioned Kennedy extensively during confirmation hearings about his history of vaccine denial, his false claims linking vaccines to autism, and his fundamental lack of qualifications for the most powerful health position in the United States government. Cassidy, more than almost any other senator, understood what Kennedy’s confirmation would mean for Louisiana families — for children’s vaccination programs, for Medicaid, for the rural health systems that keep this state alive.
And then he voted yes.
His explanation was extraordinary in its nakedness. Kennedy had promised, Cassidy said, an “unprecedentedly close, collaborative working relationship” — that they would “meet or speak multiple times a month.” He sold out the public health of Louisiana for a promise of phone calls. One analysis concluded that Cassidy may have been the single most important vote in Kennedy’s confirmation, providing the crucial cover that allowed wavering Republican colleagues to fall in line.
Now, days after losing his election, Cassidy is “signaling” he will hold RFK Jr. accountable. Now he has concerns. Now he wants scrutiny.
Where was that scrutiny when it mattered? Where was that accountability when Louisiana children’s health was on the line and Cassidy had the power — and the professional obligation as a physician — to stop it?
He traded that obligation for a political calculation that didn’t even work.
The Pattern: Silent When It Hurt Louisiana, Loud When It Hurt Him
The RFK Jr. vote is not an isolated incident. It is the defining pattern of Cassidy’s final years in the Senate.
When Trump’s DHS agents fatally shot two Americans in Minnesota, Cassidy called it “incredibly disturbing” — then voted with his party on every single measure Democrats put forward to reform DHS enforcement. When Trump’s rhetoric about immigrants became openly dehumanizing, Cassidy issued carefully worded statements of concern — then returned to his seat and cast the votes his party demanded. When Trump’s administration began dismantling Medicaid — the program that covers nearly 1.9 million Louisiana residents, a higher share of the population than almost any other state — Cassidy found a way to be quiet enough not to matter.
He was, as one analysis put it, a man who “kept his head down, sticking to a partisan script and avoiding confrontations with the White House” for the better part of a year and a half. Not because he believed in what Trump was doing. Not because he thought it was right for Louisiana. But because he needed those voters, and those donors, and that political infrastructure to survive.
When it only hurt the citizens of Louisiana, Bill Cassidy was conspicuously absent. Now that it’s personal — now that Trump embarrassed him publicly, endorsed his opponent, and ended his career — Cassidy has discovered his principles.
That is not a redemption arc. That is the definition of self-interest dressed up as public service.
The Voters He Abandoned Were Right There
Here is the sharpest indictment of all: the voters Cassidy now claims to be championing were available to him during the campaign. He just never built anything around them.
On the same night Cassidy lost, Louisiana voters rejected all five of Gov. Jeff Landry’s constitutional amendments — every single one, including provisions on crime, taxes, and government restructuring. Those voters were not blind MAGA followers. They were Louisiana residents skeptical of government overreach, suspicious of politicians in Baton Rouge and Washington who think they know better. They were, in other words, exactly the coalition Cassidy needed. Independents. Moderate Republicans. Black voters exhausted by Landry’s agenda. They showed up on Election Day and voted their conscience.
Cassidy never spoke to them. He never built his campaign around them. He was too afraid to be seen as the candidate of independence and crossover appeal in a Republican primary — even though that was the only lane that could have saved him. Instead of spending his $22 million registering and mobilizing Louisiana’s 657,000 no-party voters, he spent it running MAGA-style attack ads against Letlow’s DEI record, chasing voters who had written him off years ago.
He chose MAGA over the people of Louisiana. And then MAGA chose someone else.
Lame-Duck Courage Is Not Courage
There is a word for what Cassidy is doing now, and it is not “brave.” It is consequence-free. He serves until January 2027. He has nothing left to lose. Every vote he casts between now and then, every press conference he holds, every Trump policy he criticizes — it costs him exactly nothing. He will not face another Louisiana primary. He will not need another Trump endorsement. He is, in the clinical political sense, free.
Freedom you only exercise after the stakes are gone is not principle. It is performance.
James Carville said it plainly in the New York Times: “Bill Cassidy sold his soul to the Devil, and he didn’t get anything for it.” That’s right. But it’s worth adding what Carville left out: Cassidy didn’t just sell his own soul. He sold ours too. He traded the health of Louisiana families for a confirmation vote that didn’t save his career. He traded the safety of Louisiana residents for carefully worded statements that changed nothing. He traded the trust of the people who believed in his 2021 impeachment vote for five years of unrequited loyalty to a man who publicly called him a sleazebag.
Now, with seven months left in his term, he wants credit for finally saying out loud what he knew all along.
Louisiana didn’t get those years back. The families affected by RFK Jr.’s HHS don’t get those months back. The voters Cassidy abandoned to chase MAGA approval don’t get their senator back.
Bill Cassidy’s sudden courage is real in one sense only: it is costing him nothing. And that, more than anything else, is the measure of the man.
Related Reading:
People Power Wins: Bridges Upsets the Machine While Voters Rebuke Landry
This Is How the Voting Rights Act Dies — And It’s Happening in New Orleans
Gov. Jeff Landry Is Kinda Like Huey P. Long
Jeff Thomas is the publisher of Black Source Media — The Source for Independent Thought and Analysis. blacksourcemedia.com
Publisher — Black Source Media
Jeff Thomas
Publisher • Opinion Columnist • New Orleans
Jeff Thomas is the publisher of Black Source Media and one of New Orleans’ most direct voices on civic affairs, economic justice, and Louisiana politics. He writes from the intersection of experience and accountability — as a licensed general contractor,a tech company founder and executive with over 30 years experience, and a businessman who has worked across the city’s civic, media, and construction ecosystems for decades.
His Sunday column covers Louisiana legislative politics, insurance discrimination, housing policy, and the forces shaping Black community life in New Orleans and across the state. Thomas writes in the tradition of Black journalists who hold power accountable without apology — building arguments from data, delivering verdicts from evidence, and speaking to Black New Orleans with the directness the moment demands.
He is also the principal of EA Inspection Services, LLC, a government inspection services company. Black Source Media is his platform for the civic conversation New Orleans has needed and too rarely had.
Selected Articles by Jeff Thomas
Black Neighborhoods Pay the Highest Insurance Rates in Louisiana. Here’s What They Don’t Want You to Know.
They Didn’t Yell the N-Word. They Went to Law School, Bided Their Time, and Rewrote the Constitution Instead.
Vappie vs. Morrell: Why Does Justice Look Different in New Orleans?
The State Has the Money. New Orleans East Just Needs Them to Use It.
The Failure of Mitch Landrieu