Pertis Herman Williams III Isn’t Running to Play Nice—He’s Running to Get Results

by Ukirah Yasmine, Elite Values News

Pertis Herman Williams III is under no illusion about what he’s stepping into. Replacing a long-serving incumbent like Congressman Bennie Thompson is no small task, and Williams readily admits his bid for Congress is a long shot. But that reality doesn’t deter him—it clarifies his mission. He’s not running for comfort, clout, or career politics. He’s running to confront what he believes has gone unchallenged for far too long: the exploitation of Mississippians and everyday Americans by systems and political egos more interested in self-preservation than real progress.

Williams is blunt about it. If elected, he plans to go to Congress prepared to hold fellow politicians accountable — not in the sense of theatrics or personal vendettas, but in relentless accountability. He wants to know who profits when communities stay poor, who benefits when infrastructure crumbles, and who hides behind procedure while families struggle. And he has no interest in protecting reputations if doing so means protecting dysfunction.

"I urge the incumbent and other candidates for District 2 to drop out of the race now because I am doing God's work and I am going to win this election. Bennie Thompson should be retiring because Pertis Williams is here to fill his seat," the candidate unapologetically says with confidence.

One elder Jacksonian commented, "How many of his opponents have a proven history of dedication to the community, and activism across the nation?"

Her daughter chimed in, "He's a stand-up guy. He ain't got nothing in his past like being a woman-beater, serial cheater or ineffective career politician in their past?"

The race is heating up and the candidate is excited.

"I am the best candidate to assure that for the next 4-8 years Mississippi and America has a fighting chance to be better for generations to come. I won't exploit the people nor abuse their trust to pad my own pockets. What the position pays is more than enough, so I have no need to be lobbied -- no disrespect to lobbyists but I might get accused of being disrespectful if I am offered bribes or find out my fellow Congresspeople are accepting them. There's a lot of work to be done, and God has given me a plan that's more than 800 pages, but I'll focus on just bits and pieces of the picture as much as possible, so I don't lose anyone as we come out of this Wilderness into Judah."

For decades, Mississippi has ranked near the bottom in key quality-of-life metrics—education outcomes, healthcare access, income growth, infrastructure investment. Williams argues that too many politicians have learned to survive within these conditions rather than challenge them. His candidacy is rooted in the belief that longevity in office should never be mistaken for effectiveness, and that real leadership sometimes requires bruising political egos to get long-needed work done.

What makes Williams different, he says, is motivation. He’s not in public service for the money—though he’s refreshingly honest about the irony of congressional pay. “The salary is good,” he acknowledges, noting that one year in Congress earns more than many Americans make after six years of hard labor. That reality, Williams says, should prompt working people to reconsider who belongs in these seats. If the job pays that well, then it should be filled by people who actually understand work, sacrifice, and struggle—not those treating office as a lifelong entitlement.

Still, Williams insists money isn’t the driver. Neither is fame. He has no appetite for the performative politics, the donor-pleasing, or the endless cycle of back-slapping that defines too much of Washington culture. His campaign isn’t built on schmoozing power brokers—it’s built on shaking complacency.

That mindset didn’t appear overnight. Williams’ preparation for this moment spans years of grassroots organizing and national bridge-building. Through Project HUEmanity and the Uniting America Project, he traveled across the country engaging people from both major political parties—often in spaces where dialogue had broken down entirely. His work wasn’t about winning arguments; it was about restoring conversation. He listened to frustrations from conservatives, progressives, independents, veterans, workers, students, faith leaders, and skeptics alike.

Those experiences shaped his political philosophy: Americans have more shared pain points than partisan leaders admit, and unity doesn’t come from slogans—it comes from honesty. Out of that work emerged a message that has become central to his campaign: “MAKE AMERICA GOD IS GREAT AGAIN.” For Williams, the phrase is less about religion as politics and more about restoring moral grounding—fairness, dignity, stewardship, and responsibility to one another.

Now, with his congressional bid, Williams is channeling that same energy into a simple declaration: “CHANGE IS HERE 2026.” Not promised. Not postponed. Here.

He understands the skepticism. Challengers often do. But Williams doesn’t see his long odds as a weakness; he sees them as proof that he isn’t beholden to the machinery that keeps recycling the same outcomes. He’s free to call out exploitation plainly, to question why Mississippi communities are perpetually told to wait their turn, and to demand timelines instead of talking points.

If elected, Williams says he’ll enter Congress ready to disrupt comfort zones—pressuring committees, confronting corporate influence, and refusing to let “that’s how it’s always been done” justify inaction. He wants to bring the urgency of the people into rooms that have grown insulated from consequence.

Ultimately, Pertis Herman Williams III isn’t asking voters to believe he’ll be perfect. He’s asking them to believe he’ll be relentless. Relentless about accountability. Relentless about results. Relentless about reminding Washington that Mississippi is not expendable, invisible, or satisfied with symbolism.

Whether or not he wins, Williams says the message must be delivered: the era of quiet acceptance is over. The people are watching. The people are speaking. And in 2026, change is no longer a rumor—it’s a challenge.