Some thoughts on the campaign in advance of the last day of voting tomorrow...
Timing matters and, as any sports coach will tell you, it can't be
taught. You have it or, alas, you don't. The same might be said for
good fortune. That's to say, success in political campaigns rarely has
a monocausal explanation. Hindsight permits one to assemble the jigsaw
and see how it all made sense, but that's a far cry from presuming that
it was inevitable that this kind of puzzle could only be put together
this way.
Nonetheless, the genius of the Obama campaign - and, I assume, the
candidate himself - was recognising that a confluence of events over
which he had no control himself had created conditions for a
presidential run that were unlikely to reoccur in such favourable
circumstances as in 2008.
Political campaigns happen in particular places at particular times.
That is, the factors that helped Obama win in 2008 did not exist in
2000 (even if he had been a Senator at the time) and may not do so in
2012 or 2016. This was his moment. Who was he running to succeed and
who was he running to beat? Both matter.
The impact of George W Bush's problematic Presidency - war, natural
disaster, financial crisis - was felt in both parties. On the GOP side
of the aisle it poisoned the Republican party's brand; on the
Democratic side of affairs, it persuaded liberals that desperate times
required desperate measures. The case for "change" rested in large part
upon the previous administration's inadequacies. But the scale of those
setbacks also permitted voters to ask what "change" really meant and,
having done that, consider which candidate seemed most likely to
deliver a fresh start for the United States.
In one sense that was Hillary Clinton. A female Commander-in-Chief
would clearly represent something new and fresh in American political
history. And putting a Clinton back in the White House would be one way
of wiping the Bush years from the country's collective memory, making
them appear an awkward and unwelcome inter-ruption to a dozen - and
maybe 16! - years of Clintonian prosperity. Let the good times roll
again.
Except they weren't all good times. And Hillary's surname would, in the
end, be a problem not the solution. Could a Clinton really offer real
change? Only possibly. And wouldn't electing Hillary reopen wounds best
left to mend in peace? In the end and in a sense, wouldn't choosing
Hillary be a backward looking notion for a country that likes to think
its natural gaze looks to the horizon?
Of course, this theory depended upon there being an alternative to
Hillary who could trump the card she used to win the "change" trick.
John Edwards? A failed retread and, in any case a white man likely to
be defeated by Hillary's army of women marching-towards-history.
Edwards could not but be vulnerable to the gender-card. Not his fault;
nor Hillary's for playing it. That's the nature of these elections.
And then Obama entered the race. Suddenly, the calculations were rather
different. Electing a white woman might normally be considered quite
daring. But it seemed, well, rather vanilla when compared to the
excitement suggested by the idea of an African-American president.
Hillary no longer had control of the Change narrative. Her
glass-ceiling was good, but not quite high or tough enough.
Freshness helped too. Obama's not been around long enough for everyone
to have become bored by him. Or, to put it another way, a culture that
craves new sensations - and new stars - in almost every other sphere is
also unlikely to suppose that decades of experience in public life
constitute the best preparation for the Presidency. For some voters
anyway, Obama's novelty has been a bonus, not a blemish. At least,
neither Clinton nor McCain has made hay with his lack of years in the
national spotlight. But even if they had, it would have been a simple
matter for Obama to remind the electorate that this election concerned
the future, not the past.
So Hillary retreated to the bunker marked Policy. Ordinarily this too
might have been a sensible move and perhaps it was, this time, also
necessary. But of course this time, the most important policy issue for
Democratic primary voters was the War in Iraq. And by late 2006,
Hillary found herself on the wrong side of that argument. More
crucially, Obama was in synch with the mood of the electorate. As far
as primary voters were concerned (in the beginning and, of course in
the end too), Hillary's greater experience (itself a slippery
proposition) was counterfeited by her misjudging the greatest policy
issue of the day.
Consequently the argument shifted to "Who can beat the Republicans?"
Here again, Obama benefited from the Bushian shambles. Had the stars
been less obviously aligned in the Democrats' favour, some voters might
have been less prepared to take a chance on the young, black guy. The
pot odds made the gamble worthwhile.
As did the match-up. It is far from clear that the GOP has any grounds
for regretting their eventual, if reluctant, decision to select John
McCain. It is possible, perhaps, that Mitt Romney might have handled
the financial crisis more effectively, but finding a Romney path to
victory remains a tricky business even if he might just have managed to be the policy reformer the GOP needed. Someone to play Sarkozy to Bush's Chirac or Major to Thatcher.
The problem with McCain, however, was that his story, like Hillary's,
was trumped by the possibilities suggested by Obama's. Again, novelty
matters. The political class had walked the McCain course before.
However unfairly, there was a reluctance on the part of the media to
treat his 2008 campaign as though it were 2000 all over again. And of
course for the media, McCain was a more compelling character as a
scrappy, running-against-his-party outsider in 2000 than he was in what
was perceived to be his 2008 hug-the-base incarnation. Now, however, he
was yesterday's news.
And, alas, McCain was running on his character and biography as much as
his opponent. The McCain campaign never managed to settle on its core
message. Were Americans voting for a war hero, a wise and experienced
leader, a reformer with a record or an unpredictable maverick? It was
never quite clear. Or rather, at different moments any one of these
might be the message of the day and never mind that they were not
necessarily complementary messages.
If all Obama had to offer was a nice story then logic demanded that
McCain's own biography be considered equally irrelevant. If wisdom and
judgment were the idea of the day, then a way had to be found of
squaring McCain being "right" on the surge in Iraq with his having
been, in most voters' minds, "wrong" in 2002 and 2003. And wasn't the
"wisdom and experience" strategy undermined by the "maverick" line of argument? Mavericks, by definition, are unpredictable and hot-headed.
We should remember that McCain's choice of Sarah Palin, reckless and
ill-vetted though it was, did not come out of thin air. It came because
the campaign was failing. Palin was the long-shot gamble that might,
with luck, change the game. For a few days it looked as though it would
work. Alas, then the interviews began and McCain's judgement - the
stuff his life of service was supposed to have given him - was fatally
compromised.
The Palin pick was the result, however, of Obama's success. And again
Obama's relatively skinny record helped him. He was, if not quite a
blank canvass then a candidate onto whom voters of all colours and
persuasions could project their own ideas. Throughout the campaign
Obama's coolness, his steadyness, his calm created an air about the
candidate that seemed to say to voters "Make of him what you will". In
one sense, rather remarkably, Obama has been in the spotlight for two
years and we still don't necessarily really know as much about him as
we might expect to in these circumstances.
Hence, the feverish ravings of some on the right. They looked at Obama
and saw a radical. A Chicago hustler who palled around with Bill Ayers
and Jeremiah Wright. A Marxist even and, obviously, a terrorist-coddler.
But most people didn't see Obama this way. Some, for sure, have swooned
thinking the candidate rather too super-impressive. But rather more
people have seen Obama as, yes, a law professor from one of the finest
schools in the country. He doesn't look like a radical. He doesn't, I
think, walk like a radical. And he sure as hell doesn't talk like a
radical.
Remember too that there was a time when folk wondered if Obama could
really enthuse the black vote. Back then, Hillary Clinton was winning
30 to 40% of the African-American vote and the question was "Is Obama
black enough?" That's to say, it was only when black people started
voting for him that it became obvious he was a black nationalist. Fishy
stuff.
Still, let's not pretend that Obama's ability to be all things to all
men (a quality that is, if not vital, certainly extremely useful) is
not helped by the particulars of his story. It isn't merely that he
doesn't speak in anger or from grievance, or that he's not from the
ghetto - though these factors certainly help him.
No, he's not a Jesse Jackson figure. Then again, this is also 2008 not
1988 and America is a very different place these days. In retrospect,
the Jeremiah Wright episode - and the manner in which Obama dealt with
the controversy - was a turning point. Sure, Obama attended his church
but that hardly means he agrees with everything his pastor says: there
must be millions of church-going Americans who find themselves at odds
with their preacher from time to time. The significant element,
however, was the contrast between two views of race in America: on the
one hand you had Wright preaching the old time religion; on the other
you had the candidate offering a different, mellower, more inclusive
and respectful view.
Obviously, Obama's own life story played a large part in this, but, in
retrospect, Wright did Obama a back-handed favour by demonstrating the
differences between the two men and their views of America. How could
Obama say "god damn America" when America had given his Kenyan father a
chance? It didn't add up. And voters could see that. Obama's speech in
Philadelphia - the most remarkable of the campaign - was a turning
point. A turning point that reinforced the central message of his
campaign: it is time to look to the future, time to recognise that
politics must change to keep pace with a changing America.
No wonder the "decent" centre has been able to endorse Obama. It isn't
merely that folk can feel good about themselves if they vote for Obama
(though that's a part) it's that his presence as a candidate gives
voters something they crave again: a reason to believe in the United
States and that, whatever our policy differences, a bigger, better kind
of politics lies ahead.
It's easy to forget that one of the things voters found attractive
about George W Bush was the calm he was supposed to bring after the
turmoil and hurly-burly of the Clinton years. That desire burns even
more strongly after eight years of the Bush administration.
Thoughtfulness and a measured approach are back in vogue. And what
better way to draw a line beneath the past eight years than by
endorsing a candidate who not only has these qualities but also, in
physical, flesh-and-blood terms, offers a means by which to turn the
page?
Still, I've been struck by how many people still presume that the
United States won't vote for a black President. Everybody knows, as a
friend put it to me recently, that America is an "irredeemably racist
country." Well! I don't believe that, actually. Yes, it remains too
difficult for minority candidates to win statewide offices, but change
is afoot. It's 40 years since Martin Luther King was assassinated.
That's 40 years of racists dying and an entire generation of schoolkids
who learn that King was perhaps the greatest American of the 20th
century. The Civil Rights movement is the idea in history classes
across the country.
America is a much different place these days. And we'll discover
tomorrow, I believe, just how much everything has changed. There'll be
plenty time enough to disagree with the policies of an Obama
administration, but it's worth taking a moment to reflect upon the
import and symbolism of this election. Obama's shown that he has a
natural sense of timing and, of course, the willingness to exploit
every opportunity that comes his way. Now this is his moment. This is
his time.
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