He calls himself “the intellectual engine of the conservative movement.” On the air, Rush Limbaugh unblushingly announces that because his hero William F. Buckley, Jr. has passed away, he is now “the leader of the conservative movement.”

His claim may be justified. But, because the movement has been seized by socialist neoconservatives and Republican-über-alles conservatives, many Americans have abandoned the conservative label in favor of “constitutionalist.” If the definition of conservative can wander all over the landscape, as it certainly has, it makes far more sense to attach oneself to a hard and fast standard, even one that many conservatives have relegated to the dustbin of history.

Rush Limbaugh was the subject of a very flattering cover article in the July 6 New York Times Magazine. It may not need to be stated, but we’ll state it just in case: The New York Times Magazine does not publish puff pieces about its enemies. In this one, we read that Rush indeed has an audience of 20 million listeners each week, each of whom gets a heavy dose of his softball conservatism along with a steady diet of claims that Republicans are the answer and Democrats are devils.

Having just inked a huge new contract, Limbaugh is riding high. Premier Radio Networks will pay him $38 million per year for the next eight years, and he makes more millions from sponsors. Already rolling in money, El Rushbo (as he likes to call himself) drives a $450,000 auto, owns a palatial home and several more within his Palm Beach estate, flies around in his $54 million airplane, and occasionally leaves a $5,000 tip at his favorite restaurant. Lucky guy, that.

What enabled him to acquire such riches? He told the Times reporter, “Not my political ideas. Conservatism didn’t buy this house. First and foremost, I’m a businessman. My first goal is to attract the largest possible audience so I can charge confiscatory ad rates. I happen to have great entertainment skills, but that enables me to sell air time.” He made the same admission, just as clearly reported by John McCollister in the May/June 1993 issue of the Saturday Evening Post, who quoted Limbaugh from a speech he gave in Daytona Beach: “It’s a business — strictly a business.”

O.K., he’s a businessman first and an entertainer second. His political ideas are way down on his list of goals. And he knows very well that those political ideas can’t include putting the Constitution first and blaming the nation’s ills on deliberate treachery. The word conspiracy is never heard on his program, except to discount it fiercely. Nor is there any discussion of the Council on Foreign Relations, the dominant force that steers top leaders of the America’s media, military, corporations, educators and, of course, political leaders of both parties. Because he won’t mention, or allow callers to mention, the most substantive issues, he is in reality a champion purveyor of political correctness. 

Upon occasion, Limbaugh has allowed himself to be used by people who aren’t even conservative. In 1995, when Bill Clinton sought help in bailing out Mexico’s corrupt government, who should happen to call the show to defend that enormous raid on taxpaying Americans but Federal Reserve Chairman Alan Greenspan. It was as if Greenspan were a regular listener and, just like any other caller, had to give his two cents about the need for the bailout.

When George H. W. Bush needed help in his 1992 reelection campaign, he just by chance showed up in the studio to be interviewed by the nation’s premier flag waver for Republicans. Rush had even been a guest at the White House and “Poppy” Bush carried the great one’s luggage to the Lincoln Bedroom. The fraudulent suggestion that the two were great buddies was given a blow, however, when the president referred to his new pal as “Russ” over the air.

In 1994, when Congress was asked to approve the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT), Limbaugh pointed to House leader Newt Gingrich and Senate leader Bob Dole as supporters, and that was that. GATT (which became the World Trade Organization) had strong and incisive opponents in Pat Buchanan and Phyllis Schlafly, who tried unsuccessfully to get on the air to register their concerns. Also, Schlafly had offered $85,000 for ad time, and the Buchanan forces offered $100,000 to oppose GATT. Both were rebuffed. So Limbaugh isn’t all businessman after all. 

It wasn’t always this way with Limbaugh. Before he became a household word, he searched hard for a way to make a name for himself. While hosting a show on a single Kansas City station in 1975, he developed admiration for a John Birch Society program he’d seen. “I saw the film Overview and it got into my head for six months and they had me believing this stuff.” But the view promoted by the Birch Society, applauded by increasing numbers of concerned Americans, wasn’t politically correct. So Limbaugh began attacking the Society and its carefully presented claim about conspiracy. His stock then rose dramatically with the people who have provided him air time and the opportunity to become a millionaire.

Not a leader, the man continues to be a misleader. “I’m not retiring until every American agrees with me,” he told Zev Chafets of the New York Times Magazine. He will, therefore, have work until he drops because this American — and many more — do not agree with “The King of Talk Radio .”