In early 2015, Lonegan arranged a meeting between the Fed’s conservative critics and Chair Janet Yellen. Among those to take part was John Allison, a director and former president of the Cato Institute, a prominent libertarian think tank. Allison came away embarrassed by Lonegan’s presentation, which he privately characterized as amateurish, says a person familiar with his views. (Lonegan says he was unaware of Allison’s criticism and that even a top Fed official praised the presentation.) Cato announced it was backing out of the upcoming Jackson Hole event. Rebekah Mercer wrote to Cato, urging it to reconsider, according to two people with knowledge of the correspondence. Her request was likely to carry weight, as the Mercers are also Cato donors. The think tank reversed course and sent a speaker to Jackson Hole.
Allison won’t discuss his views of the Yellen meeting but acknowledges he had a “debate” over strategy with Lonegan’s group. “It was about being sure, when challenging the Fed, that we’re seen as intellectually credible,” he says. “I have really high regard for Bob and Rebekah. They’re really fine people. Anytime you’re trying to accomplish a difficult task—which, reining in the Fed, it doesn’t get much more difficult than that—you’re going to have disputes about technique.”
In the end, though, the closest the gold-standard activists got to Fed officials was at the Jackson Hole Airport, where Lonegan passed out gold-coin chocolates to passers-by.
Breitbart.com, which devoted at least six stories to the summit, has proven to be one of Mercer’s better political wagers. He invested $10 million in the media outlet when it was struggling in 2011, according to a person with knowledge of the transaction. Since then, its audience has exploded. In December it announced its billionth page view of the year.
Other bets haven’t had as much impact. Grant, the Idaho lawyer and activist, says he got more than $100,000 from the Mercers in 2013 after meeting with them at Rebekah’s apartment. For years, Grant has preached a little-known legal theory, known as coordination, that he uses to challenge environmental regulations. The plan was to turn his one-man crusade into a self-sustaining organization. But now Grant, 79, says the Mercer money is long since spent and he was never able to hire staff.
Mercer’s bet on Cruz, however, is looking prescient. When Mercer plunked down his $11 million last April, the polls put Cruz near the bottom of the Republican race. Now, capitalizing on a surge of interest in anti-establishment candidates, Cruz is near the top of the polls nationwide and leading in Iowa, which holds the country’s first nominating contest on Feb. 1. Cruz declined to comment for this story.
It’s hard to know exactly how much attention Cruz pays to Mercer’s views, but he’s breathed new life into one of Mercer’s pet issues. During two nationally televised debates last fall, Cruz called for a return to the gold standard. “We had it for 170 years of our nation’s history and enjoyed booming economic growth,” he declared in November.
A few weeks later, Cruz paid a visit to the Owl’s Nest for Mercer’s annual Christmas bash. The historical-themed parties have become legendary in Republican circles: Hundreds of guests from the family’s political, business, and charitable endeavors gather in elaborate costumes, entertained by performers shipped in from across the country. Last Christmas’s theme was the end of World War II. A tank greeted visitors arriving at the estate; the dining tent was set up as a mess hall, where a trio impersonating the Andrews Sisters sang Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy and In the Mood. In the library, visitors peered at a piece of the USS Arizona retrieved from the wreckage of Pearl Harbor and a wedding dress made of parachute silk. Mercer was dressed as General Douglas MacArthur. Ted Cruz, in a three-piece suit, came as Winston Churchill.