There’s a new sport in Indiana politics, and it’s not deer season or turkey season, or even rabbit season.
It’s RINO season.
No Quarter PAC has burst onto the scene with all the subtlety of a foghorn and the emotional range of a campaign mailer written entirely in bold. Their grievance is simple: twenty-one Indiana Republican state senators voted against a congressional map President Donald Trump wanted, and as a result, Indiana remains 7–2 instead of the allegedly holier 9–0.
Apparently, 78 percent Republican control is now considered a rounding error.
The PAC’s argument is that Democrats use every lever of power without hesitation, and Republicans need to stop “flinching.” In other words, if you voted against the preferred map — regardless of your reasoning, like your constituents didn’t want it — you’re now fair game in a primary. Eight of those senators are up in 2026. The message could not be clearer: fall in line, or fall in a primary.
Now, primaries are legitimate. That’s politics. If Republican voters want to replace incumbents over redistricting strategy, that’s their call. Parties have internal debates all the time.
But this isn’t just a debate about maps. It’s about discipline.
This is about turning every procedural disagreement into a loyalty test.
And here’s where things get especially interesting.
One of the figures tied to No Quarter PAC is Joseph Bortka. Bortka is not merely a keyboard warrior or a donor list manager. He’s been busy in court.
Last year, he filed suit against the Indiana Republican Party seeking declaratory and injunctive relief. The trial court dismissed the case. He has now appealed that dismissal, and the matter is active in the Indiana Court of Appeals, complete with motions to expedite and accelerated briefing schedules.
There is nothing wrong with filing a lawsuit. If you believe the party structure violated your rights, you go to court. That’s how our system works.
But there’s another piece to this story.
In my defamation case against Eddie Hager — after default judgment had already been entered — Mr. Bortka attempted to insert himself into the case as “amicus curiae.” He filed a notice of appearance and a motion to appear in a trial court proceeding where he was not a party.
Not in an appellate court. Not as a recognized intervenor. In a trial court. In a case that had already reached default judgment. I moved to strike the filings. The court agreed. The judge struck his filings and made it clear he had no standing and no authority to file in the matter, further ordering that no additional filings from him would be accepted unless he was a licensed attorney appearing on behalf of a party.
Again, litigation happens. Courts exist to sort out disputes and draw boundaries. No harm in testing legal theories — the judge will tell you if you’re wrong.
But when the same individual is (1) helping lead a political effort aimed at purging allegedly insufficiently loyal Republicans and (2) attempting to insert himself into unrelated court proceedings after judgment has been entered, it reveals a broader mindset.
This isn’t just about winning elections. It’s about control. The traditional Indiana Republican brand was steady governance. Predictable budgeting. Low drama. A belief that institutions matter and that process is not weakness. Now we are being told that unless every available partisan advantage is squeezed dry, Republicans are “unilaterally disarming.” Unless we can turn 7–2 into 9–0, we are somehow failing.
Indiana Republicans already hold the Governor’s office, the House, the Senate, and most of the congressional delegation. This is not survival politics. This is optimization politics — perfection politics — enforcement politics.
So here’s the question Republican primary voters should ask themselves in 2026:
Do you want legislators who occasionally exercise independent judgment, even when it frustrates national leadership?
Or do you want legislators who treat every vote as a loyalty oath?
Because once the standard becomes “do what we demand or we will replace you,” the center of gravity shifts away from district voters and toward whichever faction has the loudest megaphone and the deepest pockets.
No quarter given.
No quarter asked.
And in Indiana politics, apparently, no shortage of hunting licenses.