Showing posts with label Virginia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Virginia. Show all posts
Thursday, June 12, 2014
All Politics Is Local
The late Tip O'Neill is often quoted as saying that. I don't know if he did or not — but he did write a book that had that as part of its title so I assume he must have said it at least once.
Whether it originated with him or not, it is about the truest statement about politics, particularly the care and feeding of House districts, that you will ever hear.
And I believe it holds the key to the historic primary in Virginia in which Eric Cantor, the House majority leader, was beaten by a Tea Party–backed economics professor.
Clearly, when a seven–term congressman who holds the position of House majority leader and has his eyes on the House speakership is denied renomination, there will be many attempts to explain what happened. A House majority leader is not rejected by his constituents every election, and I believe this is the first time that a House majority leader has lost a party's primary.
It is historic.
In the last couple of days, the most prominently mentioned causes of Cantor's loss that I have heard are (1) the Tea Party is back and has seized the Republican Party, and (2) this was anti–immigration backlash.
Let's examine both of these suggestions — and, as we do, let's look at the results of another primary election conducted on the same day in South Carolina, where Republican Sen. Lindsey Graham easily defeated six challengers.
First, the assertion about the Tea Party.
I really get tired of hearing the Tea Party referred to as if it is an actual political party. It is not. It is a grassroots movement, not really different from the "Occupy Wall Street" movement on the left.
In the aftermath of Cantor's loss, I have heard the Tea Party mentioned as if it had thrown its enormous political heft into the campaign and crushed Cantor. To be sure, there are some national Tea Party organizations that do promote certain candidates and make an effort on their behalf — but, from what I have heard, nothing like that happened in Virginia. Some Tea Party sympathizers favored Cantor's challenger, but there was no coordinated effort that I have seen.
Perhaps Tea Party groups wanted to jump into the race — but no one thought Cantor could be defeated.
The thing that seems to shock people the most is the huge advantage Cantor enjoyed in campaign funds. He spent millions; his opponent, it is said, spent about what Cantor's campaign staff spent in steakhouses.
My guess is that particular revelation sent shockwaves through Republican incumbents — but it should have been a cautionary tale for Democrats, too. Neither side is immune to the illusion that a monetary advantage will always win an election. This time, though, it wasn't about who spent the most.
Nor, I think, was it about immigration. Cantor is conservative, but he supported a pathway to citizenship, and some have suggested his loss was due to backlash on immigration.
It is true that some of the voters in Virginia's Seventh District voted against Cantor on the basis of immigration, but from what I have been reading and hearing from reporters on the ground, that wasn't the most significant issue for most voters.
That hasn't kept immigration reform from taking the blame.
The Breitbart News Network says it was a "referendum against amnesty."
The Washington Post and Miami Herald say Cantor's loss means the end of immigration reform in the foreseeable future. Halimah Abdullah of CNN writes that immigration reform already was a longshot before Cantor lost, and the campaign for it should continue.
The Chicago Sun–Times, too, says the campaign for immigration reform is separate from the campaign for Virginia's Seventh District House seat.
I agree, mostly because what O'Neill said is still true. All politics is local, especially in House districts, which are divided up based on population. Except for those rare cases in which a state's population is so low that it only qualifies for a single at–large representative in the House — and there are currently seven of those — House seats are about as local as it gets in Washington.
The House of Representatives is known as the "People's House" because its membership is intended to reflect the people's will and conduct the people's business — and what I am hearing from Seventh District residents is that Cantor essentially forgot the people he represented. He wanted to be speaker. He wanted to be a player on the world stage.
That is something that Graham did not do. Graham and Cantor are similar in their politics. In the past, they've had the support of self–described Tea Party voters, and there was talk that their support for immigration reform alienated Tea Party voters.
But on Tuesday, as I say, Graham easily won renomination. Every political analyst I have seen regards his seat as safe in November's general election.
I don't dismiss the influence of the Tea Party any more than I dismiss the influence of any other politically active group. What I am saying is that any incumbent — in either party — who is not perceived as a public servant is going to have trouble, especially in this political climate.
Cantor paid the price for that perception, and now Republicans will choose a new majority leader next week.
That is the lesson incumbents should be taking from this.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Anticipating Super Tuesday
There's always a Super Tuesday in America's presidential politics — at least in modern times.
Presidential primaries are, as I have mentioned here before, relatively new phenomena in American politics — historically speaking.
Before Jimmy Carter made a point of entering every primary that was being held in 1976 (which caused a bit of a fuss back then), candidates would choose to enter some primaries and not to enter others.
After Carter was elected president, more states opted to hold primaries in both parties, and candidates felt obliged to enter all or most of them.
Somewhere along the line, each party's leadership happened on to the notion of holding several primaries on a single day, creating a Super Tuesday that would unofficially separate the presumptive nominee from the pretenders.
There are both pros and cons in this, and it is not my intention, on this occasion, to argue in favor or against having a Super Tuesday. That decision has been made for this presidential election cycle, for good or ill, and we're going to have one tomorrow.
So my objective is to anticipate what is likely to happen. More delegates will be up for grabs on Tuesday than have been committed so far:
But if no one wins more than three, it will be inconclusive.
Presidential primaries are, as I have mentioned here before, relatively new phenomena in American politics — historically speaking.
Before Jimmy Carter made a point of entering every primary that was being held in 1976 (which caused a bit of a fuss back then), candidates would choose to enter some primaries and not to enter others.After Carter was elected president, more states opted to hold primaries in both parties, and candidates felt obliged to enter all or most of them.
Somewhere along the line, each party's leadership happened on to the notion of holding several primaries on a single day, creating a Super Tuesday that would unofficially separate the presumptive nominee from the pretenders.
There are both pros and cons in this, and it is not my intention, on this occasion, to argue in favor or against having a Super Tuesday. That decision has been made for this presidential election cycle, for good or ill, and we're going to have one tomorrow.
So my objective is to anticipate what is likely to happen. More delegates will be up for grabs on Tuesday than have been committed so far:
- Georgia (76 delegates): Newt Gingrich represented a House district in northwest Georgia for 20 years, and he appears to have an unshakeable lead among the Republicans there.
If Gingrich wins his home state, it will be only his second win in the primaries — and both will have been in the South. He won't have established himself as a vote getter in any other region.
I don't know if his campaign will continue after tomorrow, but even if it does, I really don't think he will be much of a factor the rest of the way. - Ohio (66): This is really the big prize. Although Ohio is not the most delegate–rich state that is voting on Tuesday, people pay attention to the results there because Ohio is a large state and what happens there is often seen as a national barometer.
And, in fact, Ohio does have a reputation for being a national bellwether. What's more, no Republican has ever been elected president without winning Ohio.
Thus, it is an attractive target. Victory there could have significant implications for the rest of the GOP race.
As late as last week, polls showed Rick Santorum with a narrow lead over Mitt Romney. But I'm inclined to think that Romney's win in Saturday's Washington state caucuses — a state in which Romney's campaign didn't expect to do well originally — could give him the momentum he needs to win Ohio.
Romney seems to sense as much. As CNN reports, the former Massachusetts governor appeared confident as he campaigned in Ohio during the weekend. - Tennessee (58): Santorum may lose Ohio — I think he will — but his message is stronger than Romney's in the conservative South, and my sense is that he will win the Volunteer State handily.
If Romney is the Republican standard bearer, though, I see most, if not all, the states in the South voting for him — as they did when John McCain — and, before him, Bob Dole — was the nominee. Romney will need to work to win over Southern Republicans, but he won't have to work too hard to get their votes this fall. - Virginia (49): With only two names on the ballot — Romney and Ron Paul — this could be a deceptively lopsided primary.
I was discussing this with my father the other night, and he observed that Paul would win his usual 10% of the popular vote. That's probably an exaggeration. I expect Paul to be a little more competitive in Virginia than that — I mean, there must be some voters in Virginia who would like to be voting for Santorum or Gingrich, but neither is on the ballot so they have no alternative but to vote for Paul if they wish to record their dissatisfaction with the apparent nominee.
Nevertheless, I do expect Romney to win by a wide margin in Virginia. - Oklahoma (43): I grew up in the South. Most of the time, I lived in Arkansas, but I also lived in Tennessee (briefly). As an adult, I have lived mostly in Arkansas and Texas, but I lived in Oklahoma for four years.
Many people consider Oklahoma a part of the South, but I don't. To me, a Southern state is any state that was part of the United States when the Civil War occurred and chose to fight on the side of the South. Oklahoma did not join the Union until the 20th century.
Oklahoma is every bit as conservative as any traditional Southern state, though, and that could certainly be bewildering at first glance. There are, after all, more registered Democrats than registered Republicans in the state. But, in many cases, Democrat has a more middle–of–the–road definition in Oklahoma than it does anywhere else, and the truth is that Oklahomans have only voted for the Democrats' presidential nominee once in the last 60 years.
Sometimes their support is a bit tepid, but more Oklahomans vote for the Republican than the Democrat. Every time.
Consequently, if Romney wins the nomination, I think he can count on Oklahoma's support in November — but I don't think he can count on Oklahoma tomorrow. Only registered Republicans will be voting, and they are a decidedly conservative bunch in Oklahoma.
There was a definite evangelical influence in Oklahoma politics when I lived there, and I have no reason to think that has changed. My sense is that Santorum's anti–abortion, anti–contraception fervor will resonate with Oklahoma Republicans, and I expect him to win the Sooner state. - Massachusetts (41): I've heard nothing to indicate that Romney won't win the state where he served as governor.
He beat McCain in the 2008 primary, and I expect him to win easily tomorrow. - Idaho caucuses (32): This one bewilders me. Idaho held a primary four years ago but switched to a caucus, which tends to appeal to party activists more than casual participants.
The 2008 primary offers no clues to how Idahoans might vote. McCain won it with 70%. Paul received 24%.
But Idaho is a rock–ribbed Republican state. Three–quarters of its state senators and more than 80% of its state representatives are Republicans, as are Idaho's governor and both of its U.S. senators.
No Democrat has won Idaho since 1964, and, in most elections, Democratic presidential nominees cannot count on the support of as much as 40% of the voters on Election Day.
I feel confident in predicting that the Republican nominee will win Idaho this fall, but I don't have a clue who will win there tomorrow. - North Dakota caucuses (28): North Dakota is as much an enigma to me as Idaho.
It has roughly the same history of supporting Republican candidates — albeit not as decisively — although, to be fair, it was fairly competitive in 2008.
Nevertheless, I am inclined to think that the Republican nominee will win North Dakota in November. Who will win it tomorrow is less certain. - Alaska district conventions (27): I haven't heard any poll results from Alaska, and I am unaware of any campaign appearances that any of the Republicans have made there.
But Alaska is like North Dakota and Iowa. It is likely to vote Republican in November. Of the 13 presidential elections in which it has participated, Alaska has voted Republican in 12.
Alaska does seem to have something of a libertarian streak so it wouldn't surprise me if, in a four–way race, Paul might be able to win Alaska. - Vermont (17): Vermont was once a reliably Republican state.
In the 19th century, Vermont routinely gave at least 70% of its votes to the Republicans. In the 20th century, it never voted for Franklin D. Roosevelt, even though it had four opportunities.
But the Democrats have carried Vermont in the last five presidential elections, and they probably will again. Vermont leans to the left these days — it gave two–thirds of its ballots to Obama in 2008. Even its Republicans, who have a lot more in common with retiring Maine Sen. Olympia Snowe than they do with most of the Republicans who are seeking the presidency, are more centrist than most.
My guess is that Vermont's Republican primary will have a fairly low turnout and that Romney, the former governor of neighboring Massachusetts, will finish on top.
But if no one wins more than three, it will be inconclusive.
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Sunday, January 8, 2012
The Battle for the Senate
If I've heard it once, I've heard it a thousand times.
Practically since the last vote was counted in the 2010 midterm elections, supporters of the administration have bemoaned the difficulty of accomplishing anything with this Congress. Barack Obama can't do anything with this do–nothing Congress, they say.
I find myself struggling to follow the logic.
If the administration has been unable to accomplish its objectives because the Congress — more specifically, the House because that is the chamber that is controlled by the Republicans — has been obstructing its efforts, then it seems to me there are really only two options:
I mean, for Democrats to control both chambers of Congress, they would need to reverse the outcome of the midterm House elections, and that's a very tall order.
In 2010, Republicans took 64 seats from the Democrats. It wouldn't be necessary for Democrats to win that many to reclaim control of the House — unless the objective was not merely to win control of it but to regain the margin Democrats enjoyed in Obama's first two years in office.
To seize an extremely narrow majority (but a majority nevertheless) in the House, Democrats would need to increase their total by 25 seats in November. That certainly isn't impossible. Americans have taken at least 21 House seats from one party and given them to the other in the last three elections — but two of those elections were midterm election years, not presidential election years.
Historically, such turnover in Congress typically happens in midterm elections.
The party of an incumbent president who is seeking another term usually wins a few House seats in the process, whether the president wins or not, but only one such incumbent in the last 60 years has seen his party win as many seats as Democrats need to capture the House in 2012.
And no one has been suggesting that Democrats are likely to do that.
Larry Sabato's Crystal Ball indicates that Republicans currently are likely to hold 234 seats, which is 16 more than they need to ensure a majority in 2013 and 2014. Democrats can expect to hold 186. A total of 15 seats are regarded as tossups.
The Rothenberg Political Report says only six House seats are "pure tossups" — and there are five more, although Rothenberg indicates that those seats are leaning, however slightly, to one party or the other.
Well, one thing is certainly clear. Barring the development of something totally unexpected, the numbers just don't seem to be there to flip the House back to the Democrats.
That doesn't faze some of the Democrats I know.
It's no secret that Congress isn't popular, but many Democrats appear to be gambling that, because of that unpopularity, not only will Obama be re–elected but the voters, frustrated by gridlock, will give him a Congress that will work with him.
Don't hold your breath — at least on the latter — writes Alan Abramowitz for Sabato's Crystal Ball.
"[D]espite the abysmal approval ratings that Congress has been receiving," Abramowitz writes, "2012 will not be an anti–incumbent election. That's because opinions about the performance of Congress and opinions about whether most congressional incumbents deserve to be re–elected have little or no influence on the outcomes of congressional elections."
Sweeping losses in the House in a presidential election year (in which a 25–seat turnover is possible) tend to happen when the president (or his surrogate) is in trouble with the voters — in 2008, for example, when Obama was elected after eight years of Republican rule, and in 1980, when Jimmy Carter lost in a landslide.
If a change is going to come in Congress, it seems more likely to come in the Senate, where the Democrats' once filibuster–proof majority was reduced significantly in the 2010 midterms but they still clung to a bare majority.
Only 51 members of the Senate are Democrats, and two independent members of the chamber typically vote with the Democrats, giving them 53 seats. Forty–seven members of the chamber are Republicans.
It's safe to say that — numerically, at least — the bar for success is much lower in the Senate.
If Obama is re–elected, Republicans would need to win four Senate seats to have control of both chambers. That might be easier said than done, but incumbents who win re–election have been known to lose some ground in the Senate simultaneously. Bill Clinton's Democrats lost three Senate seats when he was re–elected in 1996, and Ronald Reagan's Republicans lost a single Senate seat in 1984.
If Obama is defeated, Republicans would need to win only three seats. That would produce a 50–50 tie, but the Republicans would have effective control of the chamber because the new vice president, who would be responsible for casting any tie–breaking votes, would be a Republican.
The fortunes of the individual presidential nominees in certain states could influence the outcome of the battle for the Senate. Rothenberg observes that ticket splitting, in which someone votes for the nominee of one party at the top of the ticket but votes for nominees from the other party in races down the ballot, is "increasingly rare" in America.
Thus, the trend to straight–ticket voting should work in Obama's favor in places like Hawaii and Massachusetts. Both states have long histories of supporting Democrats for president, and both will have Senate races this year. Logically, both seats should be in Democratic hands after the votes are counted, but both are a bit shaky.
In Hawaii, Democratic incumbent Daniel Akaka is retiring, and in Massachusetts, Scott Brown is running for a full six–year term after winning last year's special election to succeed Ted Kennedy. Obama's presence on the ballot could help his party retain — or regain — those seats.
But Obama could just as easily hurt Democratic prospects in states like Missouri, Montana, Nebraska and North Dakota, Rothenberg says. Presently, Democrats hold all four seats, but two are retiring, and those seats are regarded as likely to flip to the Republicans. The incumbents are running in the other two states, and those races are regarded as tossups by both Sabato and Rothenberg.
Nebraska was already likely to elect a Republican senator before incumbent Democratic Sen. Ben Nelson opted to retire, Sabato writes, so that didn't significantly alter the terrain, and that certainly makes sense, given the state's electoral history. But Nelson's decision "makes a Republican takeover of the Senate a little more likely," Sabato observes.
The task could be made even easier in the weeks and months ahead — and Rothenberg points out that it all could come down to half a dozen states that are considered battlegrounds in the presidential race — and also happen to have Senate races on the ballot: Florida, Nevada, New Mexico, Ohio, Virginia and Wisconsin.
Five of those seats (all but Nevada's) are currently held by Democrats, and three of those Democrats (the ones from New Mexico, Virginia and Wisconsin) are retiring.
New Mexico may be small, but it bears watching. With a reputation for being a bellwether (it's been on the winning side in 23 of the last 25 elections), it might be the most accurate political barometer on Election Night — in more ways than one.
Virginia, as I wrote last month, had been in the Republican column for more than 40 years until it voted for Obama in 2008. But his popularity has declined there, and I am sure that the state will vote Republican in November. The next question would be, will the Republican nominee's coattails help the GOP retake the seat it lost in 2006?
I don't know what to expect in Wisconsin. The state has supported Democratic presidential nominees in the last six presidential elections, and it has seldom sent Republicans to the Senate since the days of Joe McCarthy — but it voted for a Republican over three–term Sen. Russ Feingold i 2010, and it has frequently elected Republican governors, including the one who was elected in 2010.
Both Obama and his eventual opponent can be expected to spend a lot of time and money in those states. It remains to be seen what kind of an effect the presidential race has on the Senate campaigns there.
Practically since the last vote was counted in the 2010 midterm elections, supporters of the administration have bemoaned the difficulty of accomplishing anything with this Congress. Barack Obama can't do anything with this do–nothing Congress, they say.
I find myself struggling to follow the logic.
If the administration has been unable to accomplish its objectives because the Congress — more specifically, the House because that is the chamber that is controlled by the Republicans — has been obstructing its efforts, then it seems to me there are really only two options:
- Change the president to one who will work with the Congress or
- Change the majority in Congress to one that will work with the president.
I mean, for Democrats to control both chambers of Congress, they would need to reverse the outcome of the midterm House elections, and that's a very tall order.
In 2010, Republicans took 64 seats from the Democrats. It wouldn't be necessary for Democrats to win that many to reclaim control of the House — unless the objective was not merely to win control of it but to regain the margin Democrats enjoyed in Obama's first two years in office.
To seize an extremely narrow majority (but a majority nevertheless) in the House, Democrats would need to increase their total by 25 seats in November. That certainly isn't impossible. Americans have taken at least 21 House seats from one party and given them to the other in the last three elections — but two of those elections were midterm election years, not presidential election years.
Historically, such turnover in Congress typically happens in midterm elections.
The party of an incumbent president who is seeking another term usually wins a few House seats in the process, whether the president wins or not, but only one such incumbent in the last 60 years has seen his party win as many seats as Democrats need to capture the House in 2012.
And no one has been suggesting that Democrats are likely to do that.
Larry Sabato's Crystal Ball indicates that Republicans currently are likely to hold 234 seats, which is 16 more than they need to ensure a majority in 2013 and 2014. Democrats can expect to hold 186. A total of 15 seats are regarded as tossups.
The Rothenberg Political Report says only six House seats are "pure tossups" — and there are five more, although Rothenberg indicates that those seats are leaning, however slightly, to one party or the other.
Well, one thing is certainly clear. Barring the development of something totally unexpected, the numbers just don't seem to be there to flip the House back to the Democrats.
That doesn't faze some of the Democrats I know.
It's no secret that Congress isn't popular, but many Democrats appear to be gambling that, because of that unpopularity, not only will Obama be re–elected but the voters, frustrated by gridlock, will give him a Congress that will work with him.
Don't hold your breath — at least on the latter — writes Alan Abramowitz for Sabato's Crystal Ball.
"[D]espite the abysmal approval ratings that Congress has been receiving," Abramowitz writes, "2012 will not be an anti–incumbent election. That's because opinions about the performance of Congress and opinions about whether most congressional incumbents deserve to be re–elected have little or no influence on the outcomes of congressional elections."
Sweeping losses in the House in a presidential election year (in which a 25–seat turnover is possible) tend to happen when the president (or his surrogate) is in trouble with the voters — in 2008, for example, when Obama was elected after eight years of Republican rule, and in 1980, when Jimmy Carter lost in a landslide.
If a change is going to come in Congress, it seems more likely to come in the Senate, where the Democrats' once filibuster–proof majority was reduced significantly in the 2010 midterms but they still clung to a bare majority.
Only 51 members of the Senate are Democrats, and two independent members of the chamber typically vote with the Democrats, giving them 53 seats. Forty–seven members of the chamber are Republicans.
It's safe to say that — numerically, at least — the bar for success is much lower in the Senate.
If Obama is re–elected, Republicans would need to win four Senate seats to have control of both chambers. That might be easier said than done, but incumbents who win re–election have been known to lose some ground in the Senate simultaneously. Bill Clinton's Democrats lost three Senate seats when he was re–elected in 1996, and Ronald Reagan's Republicans lost a single Senate seat in 1984.
If Obama is defeated, Republicans would need to win only three seats. That would produce a 50–50 tie, but the Republicans would have effective control of the chamber because the new vice president, who would be responsible for casting any tie–breaking votes, would be a Republican.
The fortunes of the individual presidential nominees in certain states could influence the outcome of the battle for the Senate. Rothenberg observes that ticket splitting, in which someone votes for the nominee of one party at the top of the ticket but votes for nominees from the other party in races down the ballot, is "increasingly rare" in America.
Thus, the trend to straight–ticket voting should work in Obama's favor in places like Hawaii and Massachusetts. Both states have long histories of supporting Democrats for president, and both will have Senate races this year. Logically, both seats should be in Democratic hands after the votes are counted, but both are a bit shaky.
In Hawaii, Democratic incumbent Daniel Akaka is retiring, and in Massachusetts, Scott Brown is running for a full six–year term after winning last year's special election to succeed Ted Kennedy. Obama's presence on the ballot could help his party retain — or regain — those seats.
But Obama could just as easily hurt Democratic prospects in states like Missouri, Montana, Nebraska and North Dakota, Rothenberg says. Presently, Democrats hold all four seats, but two are retiring, and those seats are regarded as likely to flip to the Republicans. The incumbents are running in the other two states, and those races are regarded as tossups by both Sabato and Rothenberg.
Nebraska was already likely to elect a Republican senator before incumbent Democratic Sen. Ben Nelson opted to retire, Sabato writes, so that didn't significantly alter the terrain, and that certainly makes sense, given the state's electoral history. But Nelson's decision "makes a Republican takeover of the Senate a little more likely," Sabato observes.
The task could be made even easier in the weeks and months ahead — and Rothenberg points out that it all could come down to half a dozen states that are considered battlegrounds in the presidential race — and also happen to have Senate races on the ballot: Florida, Nevada, New Mexico, Ohio, Virginia and Wisconsin.
Five of those seats (all but Nevada's) are currently held by Democrats, and three of those Democrats (the ones from New Mexico, Virginia and Wisconsin) are retiring.
New Mexico may be small, but it bears watching. With a reputation for being a bellwether (it's been on the winning side in 23 of the last 25 elections), it might be the most accurate political barometer on Election Night — in more ways than one.
Virginia, as I wrote last month, had been in the Republican column for more than 40 years until it voted for Obama in 2008. But his popularity has declined there, and I am sure that the state will vote Republican in November. The next question would be, will the Republican nominee's coattails help the GOP retake the seat it lost in 2006?
I don't know what to expect in Wisconsin. The state has supported Democratic presidential nominees in the last six presidential elections, and it has seldom sent Republicans to the Senate since the days of Joe McCarthy — but it voted for a Republican over three–term Sen. Russ Feingold i 2010, and it has frequently elected Republican governors, including the one who was elected in 2010.
Both Obama and his eventual opponent can be expected to spend a lot of time and money in those states. It remains to be seen what kind of an effect the presidential race has on the Senate campaigns there.
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Friday, December 9, 2011
Georgia On My Mind
I have this friend who lives in Atlanta. I would describe him as a devoted supporter of Barack Obama.
He says he has been disappointed and frustrated with Obama at times, but it often seems to me that he finds ways to justify or excuse those policies that he says have been disappointing and frustrating. This also leads, at times, to overly optimistic electoral expectations.
At one time, we were living parallel lives. We were pursuing our master's degrees in journalism at the University of North Texas, we were working full time at the same newspaper, and we were working part time as graduate assistants in UNT's editing lab.
Frequently, we were enrolled in the same classes. I used to tease him that I saw more of him than his wife or children did.
We got to know each other pretty well, and we found that we had a lot in common. We both considered ourselves Democrats, and we shared much the same world view.
Anyway, that friend and I went our separate ways eventually. He got his degree, and I got mine. He went on to get his doctorate at another school. I got a job teaching journalism. We had our different life experiences, as friends do.
To an extent, we've moved in different directions. He still considers himself a Democrat; I consider myself an independent. I guess his philosophy hasn't changed much; perhaps mine has, although I don't think of it that way.
But even if it is true, I don't look at it as a bad thing — more like what Joni Mitchell described in "Both Sides Now."
Life has taken my friend to Atlanta, as I say — where, I presumed, he would obtain unique insights into the voting behavior of people in Georgia.
Maybe he has, but I'm inclined to think they are colored by his personal political perceptions, not necessarily by reality.
In 2008, he told me that Obama would win Georgia for two reasons — the black population of Georgia (roughly 30% of the total) would vote heavily for him (which it did, I suppose) and the presence of Libertarian — and Georgia native — Bob Barr on the ballot.
Barr, he said, would siphon off enough votes from John McCain to hand the state to the Democrats. He didn't.
More than 3.9 million people voted in Georgia in November 2008. About 28,000 of them voted for Barr.
That didn't really surprise me. Georgia has never struck me as being unusually susceptible to quixotic third–party candidacies.
When such a third–party candidate has caught fire elsewhere, in the region or the country at large — i.e., Ross Perot in '92 or George Wallace in '68 — Georgia has jumped right in there.
But, otherwise, third–party candidates have been non–factors in Georgia. Maybe the concept of a two–party system is too deeply ingrained in Georgians.

As someone who has lived in the South all his life, that sort of seems to me to be true of the South in general, and the percentages from the last election in which a third–party candidate played a prominent role — 1992 — support that.
According to "The Almanac of American Politics 1994," states in the South Atlantic region of the country (Florida, Georgia, Virginia and the Carolinas) gave a much smaller share of their vote to Perot (16%) than almost any other region. The states in the Mississippi Valley — Alabama, Arkansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Mississippi and Tennessee — gave the smallest (11%).
In other words, even in a year in which the third–party candidate was bringing millions of previously politically inactive voters into the process, the South resisted the temptation to abandon the two–party arrangement.
The authors of the 1994 "Almanac," Michael Barone and Grant Ujifusa, used the numbers from the 1992 election to make the case for their observation of the "phenomenon" of straight–ticket voting that year. And I suppose it was a compelling argument for those who sought to explain what had happened that year.
Their analysis always struck me as being somewhat short–sighted, focused as it was on a single election.
See, I never really bought the idea that it was an isolated phenomenon. I have long believed that straight–ticket voting is a reality of American politics, particularly Southern politics. It was true in 1992. I believe it will be true in 2012 — and that the numbers from 2010 and recent presidential elections clearly suggest that the Democrats will lose every Southern state next year.
I know it was always a reality in Arkansas — but that was due, in large part, to the fact that there was really only one political party in Arkansas when I was growing up. The Democrats had a near monopoly on political power in Arkansas — and most of the South — in those days.
But that was really a different Democratic Party. As I have noted before, the politicians who led the Democratic Party in those days probably had much more in common philosophically with today's Republicans.
Eventually, in fact, many of them switched their party affiliations, but it took some time. The Southern Democrats of a generation or two back were trained at their mother's knees to be wary of Republicans.
Republicans were damn yankees, and the transition was a long time coming and really achieved incrementally. Southerners were voting for Republicans for president long before they started voting for Republicans for state and local offices.
The GOP, they were told, had inflicted Reconstruction on the South after the Civil War — and had been responsible for the poverty and misery that afflicted most who lived there, white and black, ever since. It was an article of faith, and so, with the exceptions of a few isolated pockets, most places in the South were run by Democrats for decades.
Many people mistakenly believe the South began moving away from the Democrats to the Republicans in 1980, when Reagan conservatives joined forces with Jerry Falwell and the Moral Majority, but, in hindsight, that was really more symbolic of the completion of the shift than its beginning. It was in 1980 that the Moral Majority served as the bridge for the last holdouts, the Christian evangelicals, who seemed, prior to that time, to exist outside politics — at least as an interest group or voting bloc.
The real breaking point came in the 1960s, in the midst of the civil rights conflict, campus unrest and general social upheaval. Even Lyndon Johnson, the architect of the Great Society, acknowledged that his greatest legislative triumphs, the ones that guaranteed voting rights and civil rights to all Americans, likely had handed the South to the opposition for a generation or more.
His words have truly been prophetic. Of the 11 elections that have been held since Johnson won by historic proportions in 1964, the Democratic nominee has lost every Southern state in six of them — and has only come close to sweeping the region once (in 1976) even though the party has nominated Southerners for president five times.
Most Southern states have voted for the Republican nominee for president even in years when Republicans were struggling elsewhere ... even in years when native Southerners were on the Democrats' national ticket.
I have always had mixed feelings about the fierce loyalty of Southerners. I have often felt it was more a point of pride, of not wanting to admit when one has been wrong, than a point of principle.
When Southerners give their hearts to someone, it is usually for life. Likewise, when the South gives its allegiance to a person or a political party, it is a long–term commitment — in spite of the behavior of some philandering politicians.
Giving up on a relationship — be it social or political — is a last resort for most Southerners. It is what you do when all else has failed.
(Regarding the dissolution of social/legal relationships, I have always suspected that attitude has more to do with the regional stigma about divorce that still persists, to an extent, today and the reluctance of many Southerners to legally admit a mistake was made than any theological concerns about promises made to a higher power.)
That's probably the main reason why it was so surprising when Obama won the states of Virginia and North Carolina in 2008. Virginia hadn't voted for a Democrat since LBJ's day. North Carolina voted for Jimmy Carter in 1976 but had been in the Republican column ever since.
For those states to vote for a Democrat after regularly voting for Republicans for years was an admission that could not have been easy for many of the voters in those states to make.
Numerically, it seems to have come a little easier to Virginians, who supported the Obama–Biden ticket by nearly 250,00 votes out of more than 3.7 million cast. North Carolinians, on the other hand, barely voted for Obama, giving him a winning margin of less than 15,000 votes out of 4.3 million.
I'm not really sure what this means for 2012. I mean, the 2008 results can't be explained strictly in racial terms, can they? The white share of the population is about the same in both states (64.8% in Virginia, 65.3% in North Carolina), and the black populations are comparable as well (19.0% in Virginia, 21.2% in North Carolina).
If anything, one would expect that a higher black population (along with half a million more participants) would produce a higher margin for Obama in North Carolina than Virginia — but the opposite was true.
What can be said with certainty is that both states voted Republican — heavily — in the 2010 congressional midterms.
That's understandable. For quite awhile, Florida has been a melting pot for retirees from all over the nation so its politics tends to be quite different from just about any other Southern state. Until the advent of air conditioning, Florida was mostly a backwater kind of place with a population to match, but in recent decades, the only thing that has truly been Southern about Florida is its geographic location.
In many ways, its diverse population bears watching as an election year unfolds. It may be the closest thing to a political barometer, a cross–section of the American public, that one is likely to find.
The scene of an excruciating recount in 2000, Florida has now been on the winning side in 11 of the previous 12 elections — and conditions in 2008 were probably more favorable for the out–of–power party than at any other time that I can remember.
More than perhaps any other state in the region, Florida's vote seems likely to be influenced by prevailing conditions in November 2012. Obama won the state with 51% of the vote in 2008, but, again, few solid conclusions can be reached based on the racial composition of the electorate. Whites represent a smaller share of the population in Florida (about 58%) than in in Virginia or North Carolina.
But the black vote in Florida is also smaller (around 15%).
In fact, half again as many Floridians are Hispanic (more than 22%), and, while those voters will be affected by economic conditions like anyone else, they may also be sensitive to immigration issues and particularly responsive to proposed solutions to those problems.
There may well be compelling reasons for Hispanic voters to feel overly encouraged or discouraged by U.S. immigration policy under Obama.
What can be said of voting behavior in Florida in 2010 is that Florida's voters made a right turn.
Republicans seized four House seats from Democrats, elected one of the original tea partiers to the U.S. Senate and replaced an outgoing Republican governor with another Republican governor.
There has been persistent talk, in fact, that the senator — Marco Rubio — will be the GOP running mate, no matter who the presidential nominee turns out to be.
And if that turns out to be true, the party really will be over in Florida ...
... and elsewhere in the South.
He says he has been disappointed and frustrated with Obama at times, but it often seems to me that he finds ways to justify or excuse those policies that he says have been disappointing and frustrating. This also leads, at times, to overly optimistic electoral expectations.
At one time, we were living parallel lives. We were pursuing our master's degrees in journalism at the University of North Texas, we were working full time at the same newspaper, and we were working part time as graduate assistants in UNT's editing lab.
Frequently, we were enrolled in the same classes. I used to tease him that I saw more of him than his wife or children did.
We got to know each other pretty well, and we found that we had a lot in common. We both considered ourselves Democrats, and we shared much the same world view.
Anyway, that friend and I went our separate ways eventually. He got his degree, and I got mine. He went on to get his doctorate at another school. I got a job teaching journalism. We had our different life experiences, as friends do.
To an extent, we've moved in different directions. He still considers himself a Democrat; I consider myself an independent. I guess his philosophy hasn't changed much; perhaps mine has, although I don't think of it that way.
But even if it is true, I don't look at it as a bad thing — more like what Joni Mitchell described in "Both Sides Now."
"But now old friends are acting strange,
They shake their heads,
They say I've changed.
Something's lost
But something's gained
In living every day."
Life has taken my friend to Atlanta, as I say — where, I presumed, he would obtain unique insights into the voting behavior of people in Georgia.
Maybe he has, but I'm inclined to think they are colored by his personal political perceptions, not necessarily by reality.
In 2008, he told me that Obama would win Georgia for two reasons — the black population of Georgia (roughly 30% of the total) would vote heavily for him (which it did, I suppose) and the presence of Libertarian — and Georgia native — Bob Barr on the ballot.
Barr, he said, would siphon off enough votes from John McCain to hand the state to the Democrats. He didn't.
More than 3.9 million people voted in Georgia in November 2008. About 28,000 of them voted for Barr.
That didn't really surprise me. Georgia has never struck me as being unusually susceptible to quixotic third–party candidacies.
When such a third–party candidate has caught fire elsewhere, in the region or the country at large — i.e., Ross Perot in '92 or George Wallace in '68 — Georgia has jumped right in there.
But, otherwise, third–party candidates have been non–factors in Georgia. Maybe the concept of a two–party system is too deeply ingrained in Georgians.

As someone who has lived in the South all his life, that sort of seems to me to be true of the South in general, and the percentages from the last election in which a third–party candidate played a prominent role — 1992 — support that.
According to "The Almanac of American Politics 1994," states in the South Atlantic region of the country (Florida, Georgia, Virginia and the Carolinas) gave a much smaller share of their vote to Perot (16%) than almost any other region. The states in the Mississippi Valley — Alabama, Arkansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Mississippi and Tennessee — gave the smallest (11%).
In other words, even in a year in which the third–party candidate was bringing millions of previously politically inactive voters into the process, the South resisted the temptation to abandon the two–party arrangement.
The authors of the 1994 "Almanac," Michael Barone and Grant Ujifusa, used the numbers from the 1992 election to make the case for their observation of the "phenomenon" of straight–ticket voting that year. And I suppose it was a compelling argument for those who sought to explain what had happened that year.
Their analysis always struck me as being somewhat short–sighted, focused as it was on a single election.
See, I never really bought the idea that it was an isolated phenomenon. I have long believed that straight–ticket voting is a reality of American politics, particularly Southern politics. It was true in 1992. I believe it will be true in 2012 — and that the numbers from 2010 and recent presidential elections clearly suggest that the Democrats will lose every Southern state next year.
I know it was always a reality in Arkansas — but that was due, in large part, to the fact that there was really only one political party in Arkansas when I was growing up. The Democrats had a near monopoly on political power in Arkansas — and most of the South — in those days.
But that was really a different Democratic Party. As I have noted before, the politicians who led the Democratic Party in those days probably had much more in common philosophically with today's Republicans.
Eventually, in fact, many of them switched their party affiliations, but it took some time. The Southern Democrats of a generation or two back were trained at their mother's knees to be wary of Republicans.
Republicans were damn yankees, and the transition was a long time coming and really achieved incrementally. Southerners were voting for Republicans for president long before they started voting for Republicans for state and local offices.
The GOP, they were told, had inflicted Reconstruction on the South after the Civil War — and had been responsible for the poverty and misery that afflicted most who lived there, white and black, ever since. It was an article of faith, and so, with the exceptions of a few isolated pockets, most places in the South were run by Democrats for decades.
Many people mistakenly believe the South began moving away from the Democrats to the Republicans in 1980, when Reagan conservatives joined forces with Jerry Falwell and the Moral Majority, but, in hindsight, that was really more symbolic of the completion of the shift than its beginning. It was in 1980 that the Moral Majority served as the bridge for the last holdouts, the Christian evangelicals, who seemed, prior to that time, to exist outside politics — at least as an interest group or voting bloc.
The real breaking point came in the 1960s, in the midst of the civil rights conflict, campus unrest and general social upheaval. Even Lyndon Johnson, the architect of the Great Society, acknowledged that his greatest legislative triumphs, the ones that guaranteed voting rights and civil rights to all Americans, likely had handed the South to the opposition for a generation or more.
His words have truly been prophetic. Of the 11 elections that have been held since Johnson won by historic proportions in 1964, the Democratic nominee has lost every Southern state in six of them — and has only come close to sweeping the region once (in 1976) even though the party has nominated Southerners for president five times.
Most Southern states have voted for the Republican nominee for president even in years when Republicans were struggling elsewhere ... even in years when native Southerners were on the Democrats' national ticket.
I have always had mixed feelings about the fierce loyalty of Southerners. I have often felt it was more a point of pride, of not wanting to admit when one has been wrong, than a point of principle.
When Southerners give their hearts to someone, it is usually for life. Likewise, when the South gives its allegiance to a person or a political party, it is a long–term commitment — in spite of the behavior of some philandering politicians.
Giving up on a relationship — be it social or political — is a last resort for most Southerners. It is what you do when all else has failed.
(Regarding the dissolution of social/legal relationships, I have always suspected that attitude has more to do with the regional stigma about divorce that still persists, to an extent, today and the reluctance of many Southerners to legally admit a mistake was made than any theological concerns about promises made to a higher power.)
That's probably the main reason why it was so surprising when Obama won the states of Virginia and North Carolina in 2008. Virginia hadn't voted for a Democrat since LBJ's day. North Carolina voted for Jimmy Carter in 1976 but had been in the Republican column ever since.
For those states to vote for a Democrat after regularly voting for Republicans for years was an admission that could not have been easy for many of the voters in those states to make.
Numerically, it seems to have come a little easier to Virginians, who supported the Obama–Biden ticket by nearly 250,00 votes out of more than 3.7 million cast. North Carolinians, on the other hand, barely voted for Obama, giving him a winning margin of less than 15,000 votes out of 4.3 million.
I'm not really sure what this means for 2012. I mean, the 2008 results can't be explained strictly in racial terms, can they? The white share of the population is about the same in both states (64.8% in Virginia, 65.3% in North Carolina), and the black populations are comparable as well (19.0% in Virginia, 21.2% in North Carolina).
If anything, one would expect that a higher black population (along with half a million more participants) would produce a higher margin for Obama in North Carolina than Virginia — but the opposite was true.
What can be said with certainty is that both states voted Republican — heavily — in the 2010 congressional midterms.
- North Carolina re–elected Republican Sen. Richard Burr with 55% of the vote. That's pretty high for North Carolina. Statewide races frequently are much closer.
North Carolina Republicans also captured a House seat from the Democrats. - Virginia elected Republican Gov. Bob McDonnell in the off–year election of 2009, providing perhaps the first glimpse of what was to come.
Neither of the state's senators was on the ballot in 2010, but Democratic Sen. Jim Webb, who defeated George Allen in the 2006 midterm election, announced earlier this year that he would not seek a second term. Ostensibly, his reason is that he wants to return to the private sector, but I can't help wondering if he has concluded that he caught lightning in a bottle six years ago and cannot duplicate the feat in 2012.
Virginia Republicans grabbed three House seats from Democrats in 2010.
That's understandable. For quite awhile, Florida has been a melting pot for retirees from all over the nation so its politics tends to be quite different from just about any other Southern state. Until the advent of air conditioning, Florida was mostly a backwater kind of place with a population to match, but in recent decades, the only thing that has truly been Southern about Florida is its geographic location.
In many ways, its diverse population bears watching as an election year unfolds. It may be the closest thing to a political barometer, a cross–section of the American public, that one is likely to find.
The scene of an excruciating recount in 2000, Florida has now been on the winning side in 11 of the previous 12 elections — and conditions in 2008 were probably more favorable for the out–of–power party than at any other time that I can remember.
More than perhaps any other state in the region, Florida's vote seems likely to be influenced by prevailing conditions in November 2012. Obama won the state with 51% of the vote in 2008, but, again, few solid conclusions can be reached based on the racial composition of the electorate. Whites represent a smaller share of the population in Florida (about 58%) than in in Virginia or North Carolina.
But the black vote in Florida is also smaller (around 15%).
In fact, half again as many Floridians are Hispanic (more than 22%), and, while those voters will be affected by economic conditions like anyone else, they may also be sensitive to immigration issues and particularly responsive to proposed solutions to those problems.
There may well be compelling reasons for Hispanic voters to feel overly encouraged or discouraged by U.S. immigration policy under Obama.
What can be said of voting behavior in Florida in 2010 is that Florida's voters made a right turn.
Republicans seized four House seats from Democrats, elected one of the original tea partiers to the U.S. Senate and replaced an outgoing Republican governor with another Republican governor.
There has been persistent talk, in fact, that the senator — Marco Rubio — will be the GOP running mate, no matter who the presidential nominee turns out to be.
And if that turns out to be true, the party really will be over in Florida ...
... and elsewhere in the South.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Sic Semper Tyrannis

"Sic semper tyrannis — Thus always to tyrants."
Latin phrase
When I heard the news that Libyan dictator Moammar Gadhafi had been killed, it came as no real surprise to me.
It's been this way as long as I can remember — and, according to the undocumented history of the Latin phrase, it goes back at least to the time of Julius Caesar, when he was killed with the words "sic semper tyrannis!"
Modern historians have suggested that phrase wasn't really spoken when Caesar was killed, that it was a literary invention that came into existence upon the re–telling of his assassination. To my knowledge, there is no record of what was actually said (if anything was) when Brutus stabbed Caesar.
There is no real record of what Caesar said as he was dying, either. According to the play that Shakespeare wrote about the assassination roughly 1,500 years after the fact, Caesar uttered a brief phrase — "Et tu, Brute?" (which, in English, means, "And you, Brutus?" or "You, too, Brutus?"), suggesting that he was acquainted with his assailant.
I have seen no evidence that Gadhafi knew his killer(s) so "sic semper tyrannis" may not be entirely appropriate to this particular case, but the people of Libya knew him all too well. There can be no doubt that Gadhafi's was a brutal regime, as brutal as any dictatorship in the memory of any living person.
It isn't always appropriate to apply that phrase. The most blatant example of that, I think, was when John Wilkes Booth spoke those words after shooting Abraham Lincoln in the back of the head at point–blank range. Few people, even at the time, considered Lincoln a tyrant.
Also, I would argue that it is inappropriate as a state motto — which it is for the commonwealth of Virginia. But I guess that really isn't my business since I don't live in Virginia (neither, for that matter, do I live in New Hampshire, and I've never really felt that state's motto — "Live free or die" — was particularly appropriate, either — although a persuasive case can be made for its use since it is rooted in early American history).There clearly are times, though, when "sic semper tyrannis" fits the circumstances. The phrase comes to mind when one hears of notorious dictators who have been killed or driven from power by the people who have been subjugated.
For example, opinions of the invasion of Iraq were sharply divided, but few people would disagree that Saddam Hussein was a tyrant who deserved to be overthrown.
Likewise, it came to mind in the spring when Hosni Mubarak was overthrown in Egypt. In the 1980s, when Ferdinand Marcos was driven from the Philippines, it came to mind.
I guess it even came to mind when Osama bin Laden was killed in early May — although "tyrant" and "terrorist" are not really interchangeable terms.
No, that phrase isn't always applied appropriately — like the modern tendency for followers of a political ideology to compare leaders of other ideologies to Hitler and the Nazis — but I suspect there are few who would disagree with its application to Gadhafi.
He ruled Libya for more than four decades, and violence was a way of life for him. He sought to give the world the impression that the Libyan people were really in charge via "a nationwide system of congresses and committees," as Ronald Bruce St John writes at CNN.com, but, in truth, he controlled things with an iron fist.
Nearly all Libyans under the age of 50 have no memory of life under anyone but Gadhafi, but, on Thursday, they celebrated the opportunity to find out what that might be like. I saw footage on the news of Libyans celebrating in the streets, in their cars. Most looked like they couldn't have been born yet when Gadhafi seized power.It will be the responsibility of the United States and the other republics of the world to help Libya take its first fledgling steps into freedom. That is going to be a considerable undertaking, considering the many crises facing the world's economies.
No one knows yet what forms this challenge may take in the coming months or years. It may require money or military support. At times, lip service may be sufficient. All that is certain is that such a transition will be bumpy. It always is. It will require a long–term commitment.
In the end, the world's republics, like parents watching their children grow, will have to let Libya make its own mistakes and carve out its own path. Libya's path will never be the same as the one the early Americans walked more than 200 years ago, and Libya's experiences with its new government almost certainly will not duplicate the experiences of any other existing republic in the world.
Parents are often regarded as tyrants by their children. Over time, most prove to their children that they are not tyrants by gradually giving them more freedom to make and learn from their mistakes. It is often painful for parents, but they know they must do it, just as they know their children will never be carbon copies of themselves.
The United States will offer advice to Libya in the years to come, just as a parent would offer advice to a child, but Americans must be prepared to support Libya's maturation as a republic even if they don't always approve of the shape that republic may take.
Then, perhaps, Libya — and the rest of the world — will truly understand what has happened.
What is happening.
Sic semper tyrannis.
Labels:
death,
Libya,
Moammar Gadhafi,
New Hampshire,
sic semper tyrannis,
tyrants,
Virginia
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
All Shook Up

Earthquakes are different in the eastern United States than in the western United States, a fellow with a geological background was saying yesterday following the earthquake in northern Virginia.
I didn't catch everything he said because I was channel surfing, and I came across him midway through his segment, but I gathered from what I heard that the fault lines along the west coast are more active than the ones on the east coast.
I guess I didn't need anyone to tell me that. Folks speak of the period between earthquakes in California in terms of years — decades at the most.
Earthquakes in the eastern United States happen about once every 500 years. The fault line that was responsible for the 5.8 earthquake that shook the east coast yesterday may not even have a name.
The eastern earthquakes also don't pack the kind of punch that the earthquakes in places like California and Japan do. Something about how the fault lines along the east coast fill with accumulated sand and sea debris, making the seismic activity less intense — but, at the same time, helping to make it possible for the quake to be felt from greater distances.
That is why, this fellow was saying, an earthquake in northern Virginia is not as destructive as the 7s and 8s we've seen along the Pacific, but it could be felt in the Carolinas or Georgia as well as the much closer city of New York. I've also heard that it could be felt as far west as Chicago.
Now, science was never my strong subject in school so I have a little trouble understanding that part of it.
Wish I had caught the first part of what he was saying. Wish I knew more about why some earthquakes are more destructive than others — even when they strike areas that expect them and go to great lengths to be prepared for them.
A friend of mine moved to New York a few years ago. Yesterday, he posted on Facebook that he was sitting on his bed when the earthquake struck, and his bed shook.
I had some friends who lived through the San Francisco earthquake in 1989. They told me that their friends out there, who had joked for years about "the Big One," called that earthquake the "Pretty Big One." It only measured 6.9, and it only lasted 15 seconds, but it resulted in 63 deaths and more than 3,700 injuries.
There was also quite a bit of property damage.
Apparently, there was some damage yesterday as well, but it will take awhile to determine the extent. Most of it appears to have been done to older buildings that are ill prepared for an earthquake of just about any magnitude.
And I have heard no reports of deaths or injuries.
In fact, what happened along the east coast yesterday seems to be similar to the kind of thing that has been happening in recent years in my home county in central Arkansas. It is not far from the New Madrid Fault in the central United States that allegedly caused an earthquake in the 19th century strong enough to ring the bells in Boston.
Anyway, there was a series of earthquakes in my home county in the spring — most of which measured in the 3s, which admittedly isn't strong enough for most people to notice.
A 5.8 earthquake is strong enough to notice but not usually strong enough to cause death or injury — unless it strikes severely underdeveloped places. The government in D.C. may be dysfunctional, but the city itself is not underdeveloped.
Thus, I figured it wouldn't be long before some people began poking fun at the exaggerated response to the earthquake.
No deaths. No injuries. The most serious damage, by far, appears to have been psychological.
In both Washington and New York — and other places along the Eastern Seaboard — nerves are on edge less than three weeks before the 10th anniversary of September 11. And, as Marc Fisher reports in the Washington Post, terrorism was the first thought to cross the minds of lots of folks in D.C. yesterday afternoon.
And why not? An airplane piloted by a Islamic extremist crashed into the Pentagon a decade ago. The last earthquake on the east coast may predate the American Revolution.
Labels:
earthquake,
east coast,
September 11,
terrorism,
Virginia
Friday, April 9, 2010
Song of the South
On this day in 1865, the South surrendered to the North, bringing the Civil War to an end.
Well, that's the way it reads in the history books. It's too bad that most history textbooks don't seem to tell the most inspiring part of the story.
As Robert E. Lee rode to Appomattox Court House to meet with Union Gen. Ulysses S. Grant, he couldn't know what his fate would be. He was a rebel, and military tradition called for executing rebels.
In fact, as he left his troops, Lee said that he expected to be Grant's prisoner before the day was out, but he stoically rode to his rendezvous, presumably hoping that Grant would be merciful, prepared to sacrifice himself for his men. What he didn't know was that Grant had discussed this possibility with Lincoln, who wanted to welcome the South back to the Union with open arms. And, when Grant and Lee sat down to discuss the terms, Lee was pleasantly surprised to learn that Grant would insist only that the Confederate soldiers promise not to take up arms against the United States again, and they could return to their homes.
It was an incredibly generous gesture, virtually unheard of in the 19th century. A relieved Lee was only too eager to agree to the terms and told Grant they would have a "happy effect" on his men — as indeed they did. But less than a week later, Lincoln was dead, and the Northerners who were in control of the government gave in to the desire to punish the South in the form of Reconstruction. And that contributed to the rise of the Ku Klux Klan and the implementation of the Jim Crow laws.
Realistically, I suppose, a kind of a civil war raged on for another century. Most of the casualties were blacks, who continued to live a second–class existence, segregated from whites in schools, restaurants and all public facilities and transportation, systematically denied basic privileges, like the right to vote. Those who dared to resist were quickly silenced.
I grew up in the South — in Arkansas. Today, many people speak of the landmark moments in the civil rights movement as if they were the dates when things changed. They were the dates when things started to change where I lived. Central High School in nearby Little Rock was integrated in the late 1950s; segregation went on for many more years in Arkansas' country towns. The schools in my hometown remained segregated for several years. I have vague memories of segregated water fountains and bathrooms. I don't remember when the theatre in my hometown was desegregated, but I do remember going to the movies with my parents and seeing black patrons being ushered in to a separate section of the balcony.
I remember seeing Confederate flags — not on public buildings but just about everywhere else — on homes, in yards, flying from car antennas, draped across the rear windows of pickup trucks. Folks took pride in their heritage — not necessarily what it sometimes stood for.
"Separate but equal" was always more of a concept than a reality in the South. There were isolated pockets, communities that sincerely tried to make sure that schools and other public facilities were of the same quality. But, mostly, it was something white Southerners told themselves and each other to justify separating the races, to assure themselves that blacks were not being denied anything that whites had, they were just being denied the company of whites.
That, of course, was absurd.
I've been thinking about this in the aftermath of Virginia Gov. Bob McDonnell's decision to declare April "Confederate History Month." McDonnell's failure to mention slavery in his proclamation provoked quite a public outcry, prompting him to relent, apologize for his "omission" and add the following to the language of his proclamation:
Revisionist historians, perhaps overly influenced by the modern political correctness movement and the manner in which certain words and phrases (like Confederacy and states' rights) have become code for racism and bigotry, view the 19th century through 20th– and 21st–century lenses. They believe the Civil War was always about slavery — more to the point, they believe it was about ending slavery.
But, like most armed conflicts, it began as one thing and ended up being about something else. Isn't that what happened in Iraq? America invaded in 2003, intent upon ridding both the region and the world of the threat of Iraqi "weapons of mass destruction." When the alleged stockpiles of such weapons were not found, attention turned to liberating the Iraqi people.
If you have a conversation today with someone who supported the invasion of Iraq and continues to support the war there, you will not talk about vials of anthrax but rather about the liberation of an oppressed people. Is it good that oppressed people have been liberated? Of course, it is. But is that why the troops invaded Iraq to begin with? No.
I'm not saying McDonnell shouldn't have adjusted his proclamation to refer to slavery. He should have. Nor am I saying that slavery was not "an evil and inhumane practice." Clearly, it was.
I'm just saying it was not necessarily seen in the same light in the 19th century as it is today. Even Abraham Lincoln, who is rightfully remembered in history as the Great Emancipator, was far more concerned, upon entering the presidency, with preserving the Union than he was with ending slavery. In fact, I wrote about this on the occasion of his 200th birthday last year.
I don't have a problem with setting aside a month to remember the history of the South. I think McDonnell's mistake was in the name. "Confederate History Month" brings to mind images of slaves, the Stars and Bars, rebellion. The war is part of its history — there is no escaping that — but I don't really feel it is necessary to draw more attention to that than to the other part of its history. "Southern History Month" makes more sense — and would let everyone participate.
Sort of like the difference between having a "German History Month" and a "Nazi History Month."
I've spent nearly all of my life in the South, and I know there are things that are unique to this region, people who have made valuable contributions to the betterment of mankind. I know that there are fascinating stories from Southern history that people outside the region seldom know.
And, as for the Confederate part, I know that most of the men who fought for the Confederacy did not own slaves. You can try to hang the "racist" label on them all you want, but, if you could ask them, I doubt that many would say they were fighting to preserve slavery. They would say they were defending their homes, their families, their friends.
The Civil War was a tragedy for this nation, but the men who fought in it often displayed true heroism and self–sacrifice. Their sacrifices should be remembered and honored.
But the month need not be limited to the Confederacy. That ignores the contributions of too many generations of Southerners.
Well, that's the way it reads in the history books. It's too bad that most history textbooks don't seem to tell the most inspiring part of the story.
As Robert E. Lee rode to Appomattox Court House to meet with Union Gen. Ulysses S. Grant, he couldn't know what his fate would be. He was a rebel, and military tradition called for executing rebels.
In fact, as he left his troops, Lee said that he expected to be Grant's prisoner before the day was out, but he stoically rode to his rendezvous, presumably hoping that Grant would be merciful, prepared to sacrifice himself for his men. What he didn't know was that Grant had discussed this possibility with Lincoln, who wanted to welcome the South back to the Union with open arms. And, when Grant and Lee sat down to discuss the terms, Lee was pleasantly surprised to learn that Grant would insist only that the Confederate soldiers promise not to take up arms against the United States again, and they could return to their homes.It was an incredibly generous gesture, virtually unheard of in the 19th century. A relieved Lee was only too eager to agree to the terms and told Grant they would have a "happy effect" on his men — as indeed they did. But less than a week later, Lincoln was dead, and the Northerners who were in control of the government gave in to the desire to punish the South in the form of Reconstruction. And that contributed to the rise of the Ku Klux Klan and the implementation of the Jim Crow laws.
Realistically, I suppose, a kind of a civil war raged on for another century. Most of the casualties were blacks, who continued to live a second–class existence, segregated from whites in schools, restaurants and all public facilities and transportation, systematically denied basic privileges, like the right to vote. Those who dared to resist were quickly silenced.
I grew up in the South — in Arkansas. Today, many people speak of the landmark moments in the civil rights movement as if they were the dates when things changed. They were the dates when things started to change where I lived. Central High School in nearby Little Rock was integrated in the late 1950s; segregation went on for many more years in Arkansas' country towns. The schools in my hometown remained segregated for several years. I have vague memories of segregated water fountains and bathrooms. I don't remember when the theatre in my hometown was desegregated, but I do remember going to the movies with my parents and seeing black patrons being ushered in to a separate section of the balcony.I remember seeing Confederate flags — not on public buildings but just about everywhere else — on homes, in yards, flying from car antennas, draped across the rear windows of pickup trucks. Folks took pride in their heritage — not necessarily what it sometimes stood for.
"Separate but equal" was always more of a concept than a reality in the South. There were isolated pockets, communities that sincerely tried to make sure that schools and other public facilities were of the same quality. But, mostly, it was something white Southerners told themselves and each other to justify separating the races, to assure themselves that blacks were not being denied anything that whites had, they were just being denied the company of whites.
That, of course, was absurd.
I've been thinking about this in the aftermath of Virginia Gov. Bob McDonnell's decision to declare April "Confederate History Month." McDonnell's failure to mention slavery in his proclamation provoked quite a public outcry, prompting him to relent, apologize for his "omission" and add the following to the language of his proclamation:
"WHEREAS, it is important for all Virginians to understand that the institution of slavery led to this war and was an evil and inhumane practice that deprived people of their God–given inalienable rights and all Virginians are thankful for its permanent eradication from our borders, and the study of this time period should reflect upon and learn from this painful part of our history ..."
Revisionist historians, perhaps overly influenced by the modern political correctness movement and the manner in which certain words and phrases (like Confederacy and states' rights) have become code for racism and bigotry, view the 19th century through 20th– and 21st–century lenses. They believe the Civil War was always about slavery — more to the point, they believe it was about ending slavery.
But, like most armed conflicts, it began as one thing and ended up being about something else. Isn't that what happened in Iraq? America invaded in 2003, intent upon ridding both the region and the world of the threat of Iraqi "weapons of mass destruction." When the alleged stockpiles of such weapons were not found, attention turned to liberating the Iraqi people.
If you have a conversation today with someone who supported the invasion of Iraq and continues to support the war there, you will not talk about vials of anthrax but rather about the liberation of an oppressed people. Is it good that oppressed people have been liberated? Of course, it is. But is that why the troops invaded Iraq to begin with? No. I'm not saying McDonnell shouldn't have adjusted his proclamation to refer to slavery. He should have. Nor am I saying that slavery was not "an evil and inhumane practice." Clearly, it was.
I'm just saying it was not necessarily seen in the same light in the 19th century as it is today. Even Abraham Lincoln, who is rightfully remembered in history as the Great Emancipator, was far more concerned, upon entering the presidency, with preserving the Union than he was with ending slavery. In fact, I wrote about this on the occasion of his 200th birthday last year.
I don't have a problem with setting aside a month to remember the history of the South. I think McDonnell's mistake was in the name. "Confederate History Month" brings to mind images of slaves, the Stars and Bars, rebellion. The war is part of its history — there is no escaping that — but I don't really feel it is necessary to draw more attention to that than to the other part of its history. "Southern History Month" makes more sense — and would let everyone participate.
Sort of like the difference between having a "German History Month" and a "Nazi History Month."
I've spent nearly all of my life in the South, and I know there are things that are unique to this region, people who have made valuable contributions to the betterment of mankind. I know that there are fascinating stories from Southern history that people outside the region seldom know.
And, as for the Confederate part, I know that most of the men who fought for the Confederacy did not own slaves. You can try to hang the "racist" label on them all you want, but, if you could ask them, I doubt that many would say they were fighting to preserve slavery. They would say they were defending their homes, their families, their friends.
The Civil War was a tragedy for this nation, but the men who fought in it often displayed true heroism and self–sacrifice. Their sacrifices should be remembered and honored.
But the month need not be limited to the Confederacy. That ignores the contributions of too many generations of Southerners.
Labels:
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Thursday, November 5, 2009
What's the Meaning of it All?
Gail Collins has an amusing column in the New York Times that essentially rejects the claims one hears from both sides about what Tuesday's elections really mean or don't mean.
Collins, who, like many of her colleagues at the Times, is an unapologetic Barack Obama supporter, belittles the assessments that portend bad news for her president next year. Collins apparently doesn't think there is any lesson to be learned from the elections. That's true, of course.
Except that it isn't.
The point that Obama's supporters have been trying to make for months — that he is still personally popular — has been repeatedly shown to be correct in public opinion polls. But those supporters have been ignoring something else that the polls have been saying — that Obama's policies are not popular with voters.
When they go to the polls in 2010, voters will not find Obama on their ballots. But they will find senators and congressmen who voted on issues Obama has promoted. They won't be voting on Obama. They will be voting on his agenda. And, in the past, the American people have frequently shown that they have an intriguing relationship with presidents they like but whose agendas they do not like.
In part, that was a point the voters reminded us of Tuesday.
The voters said a lot of things on Tuesday. Some of it had to do with Obama. But there were other factors, too. In general, anyone who truly believes the election — which was as limited as an election held in an odd–numbered year can be — was a genuine referendum on the Obama administration either has no clue what he/she was talking about or was indulging in some wishful thinking.
But that doesn't mean there weren't some valuable lessons to be learned from the elections on Tuesday.
For that matter, in spite of her liberal leanings, Collins stumbled into truth when she remarked in her column: "The defeat of Gov. Jon Corzine made it clear that the young and minority voters who turned out for Obama will not necessarily show up at the polls in order to re–elect an uncharismatic former Wall Street big shot who failed to deliver on his most important campaign promises while serving as the public face of a state party that specializes in getting indicted. They would not rally around Corzine even when the president asked them!"
Yes, Corzine is all those things that Collins says — and less. Obama may have been snookered by polls showing that Corzine had a chance to be re–elected and, thus, unsuccessfully gambled with his political capital when he came to New Jersey to campaign for the governor.
But the election results show that those young and minority voters who helped Obama win last year were not enticed to return to the polls this year with the president's name absent from the ballot. That was a limited problem this year. It will be much more widespread next year.
Obama's victory in last year's presidential election clearly was historic. But history cannot be viewed in bits and pieces. It must be seen in total.
With that in mind, one of Collins' colleagues, Ruy Teixeira, has some worthwhile advice for folks in both parties — relax. It's not necessarily as bad for Democrats as Republicans would like to believe. And it's not as good for Democrats as they would like to believe.
"Far more consequential," Teixeira writes, "is the historical pattern that the new president's party tends to lose seats in the first midterm election."
And Teixeira is on to something with the suggestion that the gubernatorial elections in New Jersey and Virginia "tell you nothing about who will gain seats in 2010 or how large that gain will be."
Very true. What happens in November of 2010 will be determined, to a great extent, by what happens between now and then. From that perspective, Tuesday was a warning for Obama and the Democrats. You can't continue to pass the buck on unemployment, the voters were saying. Millions are hurting, but little has been done to encourage job creation.
That perception can be reversed, at least in part, but Obama and the Democrats will have to be more proactive. The House and Senate took a good first step by extending unemployment benefits, but that is, at best, a short–term answer. The ongoing problem will be apparent for all to see tomorrow when the jobless report comes out at the same time Obama is signing that legislation extending benefits.
The economy, especially unemployment, will be a huge player in 2010, and other charismatic presidents — notably Ronald Reagan and Bill Clinton — learned the hard way that voters have short memories. Reagan found that blaming Jimmy Carter and Clinton learned that blaming George H.W. Bush had no real value with the voters in the midterms.
In the modern vernacular, Reagan and Clinton took ownership of the economy when they were elected and, therefore, had shouldered the responsibility for it for two years when the midterm elections rolled around. Many Obama voters may not think that is fair. Indeed, it may not be. But that's been the truth about American politics for a long time.
That is the historical lesson with which each president must come to terms. And, in Obama's case, it is compounded by the problem that is presented by the demographics that led to his election. Young and minority voters do not have histories of regular participation in elections, but they turned out in droves to help Obama win last year.
The challenge for Democrats is to get these voters back to the polls when Obama is not on the ballot. History says it can't be done.
That does not mean it's all good news for the Republicans. The GOP's gubernatorial candidates in New Jersey and Virginia were more appealing than their Democratic counterparts, which made it easier for Republicans to draw their voters to the polls.
But if they are expecting to ride a wave of discontent to a 1994–like victory in next year's congressional elections, it's not going to be that simple.
Once again, Teixeira seems to be on to a truism. "If any repudiation is going on, perhaps it is of the conservative wing of the Republican Party," Teixeira writes, citing the special election in New York's 23rd congressional district.
New York is clearly — to use a popular phrase — a "blue state," but its individual districts have more distinct personalities, and the 23rd is a good example. For the first time in more than 100 years, a Democrat will represent that district. He defeated a conservative third–party foe when the Republican candidate, a moderate, withdrew and endorsed him.
Republicans have long spoken of being a "big tent," but the party appears to be little changed from the party that nominated Richard Nixon and Ronald Reagan and both Bushes. It still uses social wedge issues in a divide and conquer strategy that worked pretty well through most of the last four decades.
But in a place like America, where the electorate becomes more diverse with each passing day, it doesn't work as well as it did in 1968.
Again, what happens next November will be, to a great extent, the product of what happens between now and then, but common sense says the Republicans will need to nominate candidates who are more inclusive if they expect to make real headway. That means shifting more to the center and seeking candidates who are more representative of the Republican Party that existed when George Romney was mentioned as a potential president rather than the party that currently seems prepared to nominate his son in 2012.
If the GOP is successful in that endeavor, that will actually be good news. It will mean a reduced emphasis on wedge issues. That may necessitate giving up on active opposition to abortion rights or same–sex marriage or mindlessly supporting a wasteful, unwinnable war against marijuana. It should mean more of a debate on the role of government — and there could hardly be a better time to examine the role of government than a time of the greatest economic upheaval since the Depression — and sources of much–needed tax revenue.
That is the challenge for Republicans. Recent history says that cannot be done, either.
Well, one of those truisms most likely will fall next year. If neither does, there won't be much movement on either side.
And history says that won't happen, either.
Collins, who, like many of her colleagues at the Times, is an unapologetic Barack Obama supporter, belittles the assessments that portend bad news for her president next year. Collins apparently doesn't think there is any lesson to be learned from the elections. That's true, of course.
Except that it isn't.
The point that Obama's supporters have been trying to make for months — that he is still personally popular — has been repeatedly shown to be correct in public opinion polls. But those supporters have been ignoring something else that the polls have been saying — that Obama's policies are not popular with voters.
When they go to the polls in 2010, voters will not find Obama on their ballots. But they will find senators and congressmen who voted on issues Obama has promoted. They won't be voting on Obama. They will be voting on his agenda. And, in the past, the American people have frequently shown that they have an intriguing relationship with presidents they like but whose agendas they do not like.
In part, that was a point the voters reminded us of Tuesday.
The voters said a lot of things on Tuesday. Some of it had to do with Obama. But there were other factors, too. In general, anyone who truly believes the election — which was as limited as an election held in an odd–numbered year can be — was a genuine referendum on the Obama administration either has no clue what he/she was talking about or was indulging in some wishful thinking.
But that doesn't mean there weren't some valuable lessons to be learned from the elections on Tuesday.
For that matter, in spite of her liberal leanings, Collins stumbled into truth when she remarked in her column: "The defeat of Gov. Jon Corzine made it clear that the young and minority voters who turned out for Obama will not necessarily show up at the polls in order to re–elect an uncharismatic former Wall Street big shot who failed to deliver on his most important campaign promises while serving as the public face of a state party that specializes in getting indicted. They would not rally around Corzine even when the president asked them!"
Yes, Corzine is all those things that Collins says — and less. Obama may have been snookered by polls showing that Corzine had a chance to be re–elected and, thus, unsuccessfully gambled with his political capital when he came to New Jersey to campaign for the governor.
But the election results show that those young and minority voters who helped Obama win last year were not enticed to return to the polls this year with the president's name absent from the ballot. That was a limited problem this year. It will be much more widespread next year.
Obama's victory in last year's presidential election clearly was historic. But history cannot be viewed in bits and pieces. It must be seen in total.
With that in mind, one of Collins' colleagues, Ruy Teixeira, has some worthwhile advice for folks in both parties — relax. It's not necessarily as bad for Democrats as Republicans would like to believe. And it's not as good for Democrats as they would like to believe.
"Far more consequential," Teixeira writes, "is the historical pattern that the new president's party tends to lose seats in the first midterm election."
And Teixeira is on to something with the suggestion that the gubernatorial elections in New Jersey and Virginia "tell you nothing about who will gain seats in 2010 or how large that gain will be."
Very true. What happens in November of 2010 will be determined, to a great extent, by what happens between now and then. From that perspective, Tuesday was a warning for Obama and the Democrats. You can't continue to pass the buck on unemployment, the voters were saying. Millions are hurting, but little has been done to encourage job creation.
That perception can be reversed, at least in part, but Obama and the Democrats will have to be more proactive. The House and Senate took a good first step by extending unemployment benefits, but that is, at best, a short–term answer. The ongoing problem will be apparent for all to see tomorrow when the jobless report comes out at the same time Obama is signing that legislation extending benefits.
The economy, especially unemployment, will be a huge player in 2010, and other charismatic presidents — notably Ronald Reagan and Bill Clinton — learned the hard way that voters have short memories. Reagan found that blaming Jimmy Carter and Clinton learned that blaming George H.W. Bush had no real value with the voters in the midterms.
In the modern vernacular, Reagan and Clinton took ownership of the economy when they were elected and, therefore, had shouldered the responsibility for it for two years when the midterm elections rolled around. Many Obama voters may not think that is fair. Indeed, it may not be. But that's been the truth about American politics for a long time.
That is the historical lesson with which each president must come to terms. And, in Obama's case, it is compounded by the problem that is presented by the demographics that led to his election. Young and minority voters do not have histories of regular participation in elections, but they turned out in droves to help Obama win last year.
The challenge for Democrats is to get these voters back to the polls when Obama is not on the ballot. History says it can't be done.
That does not mean it's all good news for the Republicans. The GOP's gubernatorial candidates in New Jersey and Virginia were more appealing than their Democratic counterparts, which made it easier for Republicans to draw their voters to the polls.
But if they are expecting to ride a wave of discontent to a 1994–like victory in next year's congressional elections, it's not going to be that simple.
Once again, Teixeira seems to be on to a truism. "If any repudiation is going on, perhaps it is of the conservative wing of the Republican Party," Teixeira writes, citing the special election in New York's 23rd congressional district.
New York is clearly — to use a popular phrase — a "blue state," but its individual districts have more distinct personalities, and the 23rd is a good example. For the first time in more than 100 years, a Democrat will represent that district. He defeated a conservative third–party foe when the Republican candidate, a moderate, withdrew and endorsed him.
Republicans have long spoken of being a "big tent," but the party appears to be little changed from the party that nominated Richard Nixon and Ronald Reagan and both Bushes. It still uses social wedge issues in a divide and conquer strategy that worked pretty well through most of the last four decades.
But in a place like America, where the electorate becomes more diverse with each passing day, it doesn't work as well as it did in 1968.
Again, what happens next November will be, to a great extent, the product of what happens between now and then, but common sense says the Republicans will need to nominate candidates who are more inclusive if they expect to make real headway. That means shifting more to the center and seeking candidates who are more representative of the Republican Party that existed when George Romney was mentioned as a potential president rather than the party that currently seems prepared to nominate his son in 2012.
If the GOP is successful in that endeavor, that will actually be good news. It will mean a reduced emphasis on wedge issues. That may necessitate giving up on active opposition to abortion rights or same–sex marriage or mindlessly supporting a wasteful, unwinnable war against marijuana. It should mean more of a debate on the role of government — and there could hardly be a better time to examine the role of government than a time of the greatest economic upheaval since the Depression — and sources of much–needed tax revenue.
That is the challenge for Republicans. Recent history says that cannot be done, either.
Well, one of those truisms most likely will fall next year. If neither does, there won't be much movement on either side.
And history says that won't happen, either.
Labels:
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elections,
Gail Collins,
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Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Split Decision
In the light of day, it appears that voters in Maine repealed the same–sex marriage law.
The law was receiving a narrow endorsement last night, but late returns ultimately went against it.
Not so the vote on the medical marijuana law. More than 58% of Maine's voters supported easier access to the substance.
Maine's vote on same–sex marriage seems to be the only thing that changed overnight.
The outcome in Virginia is unchanged from last night. Republican Bob McDonnell was declared the winner of the governor's race early in the evening, continuing a trend that has been constant for more than 30 years.
And, in what may be the biggest election surprise of 2009, New Jersey still has a Republican governor–elect this morning, in spite of the fact that the president and several other high–profile Democrats came to the state to campaign for the Democratic governor.
So now we move on to 2010.
Perhaps Democrats have learned — once again — that they are not imbued with the divine right of kings because they won a majority in Congress in 2006 and 2008 and won the presidency in 2008. I had hoped they had learned that lesson in the 1990s, but it appears they will need more than one lesson.
And my guess is they will get more than one lesson.
The law was receiving a narrow endorsement last night, but late returns ultimately went against it.
Not so the vote on the medical marijuana law. More than 58% of Maine's voters supported easier access to the substance.
Maine's vote on same–sex marriage seems to be the only thing that changed overnight.
The outcome in Virginia is unchanged from last night. Republican Bob McDonnell was declared the winner of the governor's race early in the evening, continuing a trend that has been constant for more than 30 years.
And, in what may be the biggest election surprise of 2009, New Jersey still has a Republican governor–elect this morning, in spite of the fact that the president and several other high–profile Democrats came to the state to campaign for the Democratic governor.
So now we move on to 2010.
Perhaps Democrats have learned — once again — that they are not imbued with the divine right of kings because they won a majority in Congress in 2006 and 2008 and won the presidency in 2008. I had hoped they had learned that lesson in the 1990s, but it appears they will need more than one lesson.
And my guess is they will get more than one lesson.
Labels:
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Tuesday, November 3, 2009
The Votes Are In
Turnout for today's elections was light, as it usually is in odd–numbered years. And I know that polls close at different times in each state. But the results seem to be coming in at a frustratingly slow pace.
The battle of the 2010 midterms began in earnest tonight.
- I've been watching the election returns, and I've heard a lot of theories about what has happened in Virginia. There will be theories about New Jersey and New York, too, I'm sure, but, at this point, Virginia is the only place where today's election results are known.
Some people have spoken of the Democrats' inability to bring young and minority voters to the polls without Barack Obama on the ballot, and I think that may be a factor, but I think it is more likely to be a problem next year.
Most people seem to agree that this election is not a referendum on Obama's presidency. Nevertheless, I have heard some saying the results represent an anti–incumbent mood. That's a tougher case to make, as far as I am concerned, at least in Virginia. State law bars the incumbent from seeking a second consecutive term, and he seems to be personally popular, but his popularity doesn't seem to be transferring easily to the Democratic standard bearer.
The Republican's triumph doesn't seem to be connected to any sort of anti–incumbent mood in Virginia.
My suspicion is that it has much more to do with what I believe to be the real historical trend. The party that has won the White House has lost the governor's office the next year ever since the Carter presidency, as I wrote in May. - But an anti–incumbent mood may well have played a role in New Jersey; if the projection that was just made a few minutes ago by CNN holds up, the Republicans are going to win the governor's office there. And the Democratic incumbent is on the ballot — so it is plausible to conclude that this is a referendum on his performance in office.
For that matter, the outcome in New Jersey could be seen as, if not a referendum on Obama, certainly an early temperature reading. And there may be some findings Obama would do well to heed. - But the White House says Obama isn't watching the election returns. It will say that he is "watching the game." It won't positively confirm which game. Football? Can't be the NFL, unless he's watching a recording of the Falcons–Saints game from last night. ESPN2 is showing a college game, but do you suppose Obama is really more interested in the Bowling Green–Buffalo game than the outcome of the New Jersey election? He was campaigning in New Jersey last week. He had some interest in it then.
Baseball? Can't be. Today is a travel day in the World Series.
I suppose he could be watching the NBA, as some of his aides speculate, but that season is just getting started, and the NBA will still be playing in April. Over the next three years, Obama will have to work with the New Jersey governor, in one way or another, because of the economic difficulties with which the state is being forced to contend.
So I find it hard to accept that he is paying no attention to the election returns tonight or that an NBA game has his attention instead. - I think 2010 probably will be the real backlash election. The hurdles facing the president and his party seem clear. Obama won't be on the ballot. And he risks alienating some supporters by actively trying to transfer some of his star power to incumbents who may be in trouble, like Chris Dodd and Harry Reid. But he is the leader of the party, and his personal appeal was responsible for attracting many voters who belong to demographic groups that are not normally electorally active. It will be a challenge to get them to return to the polls. Many are ignorant about the way things work and somehow got the idea that a single election could be eternally binding, whereas the folks from the opposition party already are motivated — as they usually are.
Nothing gets a politician's attention like election returns — normally, unless one happens to be the president and thinks that, in some way, he is above such things. But I doubt there is any truth to that tale about his election night activities. And one can sense something of a sea change already occurring within the ranks. Democrats already are making noises about delaying action on health care reform until next year — if not sometime after the midterm elections.
The window of opportunity for Obama and the Democrats to get some things done in the first half of his term seems to be slamming shut.
Perhaps some of the Democrats who were on Capitol Hill in the first years of the Clinton presidency now remember the beating the party took when it emphasized health care reform over job creation and, perhaps belatedly, want to take steps that can avoid a repeat of that experience.
Based on what I'm seeing tonight, I think the battle next year will be won and lost with independent voters. Since independents seem to favor a progressive social agenda, that might be a good place to start in the campaign for their allegiance. On the surface, it looks like more of a reach for Republicans than it is for Democrats. - A couple of social issues were on the ballot in Maine, though, and supporters of both are leading with just under 30% of the vote counted. About 51% of the voters are endorsing the law that was approved by the legislators and signed by the governor allowing same–sex marriage. And more than three–fifths of voters support expanding the list of conditions that could be treated with medical marijuana.
Once a reliably Republican state in presidential elections, Maine has shifted toward Democrats in recent decades, but it is represented in the Senate by what may be the last Republican moderates — Olympia Snowe and Susan Collins. Neither will face the voters in 2010 so it does retain some of its political roots. But the Republican Party that is admired in Maine has more in common with Abe Lincoln than Newt Gingrich.
For many years, though, Maine had a reputation for recognizing emerging social issues. "As Maine goes, so goes the nation," the saying went. The saying originally referred to Maine's tendency to be on the winning side in presidential contests, but it also has been a political barometer for social issues. The present political climate may be giving it the opportunity to reclaim that role.
But there, as elsewhere, the returns tonight seem to be driven by independent voters.
Neither party is in the position of claiming a majority among self–identified voters in most states. The ones who call themselves independents typically hold the key to electoral success. To ignore what their votes can tell you is to court disaster.
That may hold some cues for Obama, who has not been an advocate of either cause but may want to revise his position to curry favor with independent voters, many of whom supported him last year but seem to be abandoning his party in New Jersey and Virginia this year — and might abandon it in other places next year.
The battle of the 2010 midterms began in earnest tonight.
Labels:
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Monday, September 21, 2009
The 'R Word' Isn't What You Think it Is
While those on the left insist on fanning the flames of racism and those on the right are equally insistent that race is not a factor in their opposition to Obama administration policies, a few people do seem to grasp what is really at stake — the future of the political realignment that left–leaning Americans believed had begun in 2006 and 2008.
Last week, Brent Budowsky pondered the prospects for realignment in The Hill. With more than 40% of Americans identifying themselves as independents, Budowsky writes, "Realignment is dead. President Barack Obama and Democrats blew it. Dealignment has arrived. Republicans blew it, and are now so repellent that Americans increasingly reject both political parties."
That supports something I have heard frequently — that neither party is really interested in the problems of ordinary Americans, that what politicians on both ends of the spectrum really care about is being re–elected, and a new party is needed.
But that isn't an original theme in American politics. Didn't we hear much the same thing when Ross Perot ran for president in 1992? Wasn't that a big part of George Wallace's message when, as an independent candidate for president in 1968, he carried five states after arguing that there wasn't "a dime's worth of difference" between the two parties and nearly sent the presidential selection to the House of Representatives?
In fact, these cries for a new political party have been amplified from time to time since the Democrats and Republicans emerged as the major parties in the mid–19th century. The cries seem to be louder when circumstances are bad — and most people appear to agree that things haven't been this bad — economically, anyway — since the Great Depression.
Those who have studied the history of political trends in America aren't surprised by periodic calls for a new party. But neither should they be surprised by the re–emergence of established trends — nor should they conclude that those trends have any special significance.
Which is why I was bemused to read Fred Barnes' piece in the Wall Street Journal the other day.
"Virginia has been kind to Democrats as of late," Barnes wrote, "[b]ut now the Democratic tide is ebbing in Virginia. In January Mr. Obama's approval rating was 62%, according to a Survey USA. By August it had fallen to 42%."
Barnes, a conservative commentator, observed that the Republican candidate leads the Democratic candidate in polls regarding this year's gubernatorial campaign. He wrote hopefully about the possibility that a Republican triumph in November "will demonstrate that 2008 may have been an aberration." But that, to me, is like comparing apples and oranges.
I don't know what the vote in Virginia will say about attitudes toward Obama and his policies. At the moment, I'm not inclined to think there are any conclusions to be drawn — unless either side wins by a landslide.
If the Republican wins in Virginia, I don't think it will necessarily suggest that Obama's coalition has crumbled. I think it is more likely to confirm what I wrote about four months ago — that the party that loses the presidency wins the governor's office in Virginia the next year.
Admittedly, Obama accomplished something unusual for Democratic presidential nominees when he carried Virginia last year. He was the first Democrat to do so since 1964 — and he was the first non–incumbent Democrat to carry the state since Franklin Roosevelt in 1932.
But the gubernatorial trend seems to function independently of the state's preference in presidential politics. Nominees of both parties have won the governor's office in the last 32 years — including Doug Wilder, the first black elected governor in any state — even though Virginia voted for Republican presidential candidates in 10 straight elections before voting for Obama last year.
If Democrat Creigh Deeds wins the election in six weeks, that may be a tangible sign that a realignment is taking place. But if Republican Bob McDonnell wins, it would be wrong to assume that it indicates anything more than business as usual.
And if the theory of realignment is dealt a setback in next year's midterm elections, it would be a serious mistake for Democrats to assume it is due to racism. It will be an indication that another political trend is alive and well, one I wrote about last month.
A president's party almost always takes it on the chin in the midterms. Obama knows what will minimize those losses — job creation — and claims he asks his economic advisers about job creation regularly. But promises he made on the campaign trail appear to have been abandoned in favor of political expedience.
Well, the nation is fast approaching a 10% unemployment rate — something with which more than a dozen states already are dealing. Unless there is clear improvement in the next six months, Obama's party is likely to lose ground in Congress in 2010.
Talk of a realignment will fade — and racism will have little, if anything, to do with it, regardless of how each side chooses to spin it.
Last week, Brent Budowsky pondered the prospects for realignment in The Hill. With more than 40% of Americans identifying themselves as independents, Budowsky writes, "Realignment is dead. President Barack Obama and Democrats blew it. Dealignment has arrived. Republicans blew it, and are now so repellent that Americans increasingly reject both political parties."
That supports something I have heard frequently — that neither party is really interested in the problems of ordinary Americans, that what politicians on both ends of the spectrum really care about is being re–elected, and a new party is needed.
But that isn't an original theme in American politics. Didn't we hear much the same thing when Ross Perot ran for president in 1992? Wasn't that a big part of George Wallace's message when, as an independent candidate for president in 1968, he carried five states after arguing that there wasn't "a dime's worth of difference" between the two parties and nearly sent the presidential selection to the House of Representatives?
In fact, these cries for a new political party have been amplified from time to time since the Democrats and Republicans emerged as the major parties in the mid–19th century. The cries seem to be louder when circumstances are bad — and most people appear to agree that things haven't been this bad — economically, anyway — since the Great Depression.
Those who have studied the history of political trends in America aren't surprised by periodic calls for a new party. But neither should they be surprised by the re–emergence of established trends — nor should they conclude that those trends have any special significance.
Which is why I was bemused to read Fred Barnes' piece in the Wall Street Journal the other day.
"Virginia has been kind to Democrats as of late," Barnes wrote, "[b]ut now the Democratic tide is ebbing in Virginia. In January Mr. Obama's approval rating was 62%, according to a Survey USA. By August it had fallen to 42%."
Barnes, a conservative commentator, observed that the Republican candidate leads the Democratic candidate in polls regarding this year's gubernatorial campaign. He wrote hopefully about the possibility that a Republican triumph in November "will demonstrate that 2008 may have been an aberration." But that, to me, is like comparing apples and oranges.
I don't know what the vote in Virginia will say about attitudes toward Obama and his policies. At the moment, I'm not inclined to think there are any conclusions to be drawn — unless either side wins by a landslide.
If the Republican wins in Virginia, I don't think it will necessarily suggest that Obama's coalition has crumbled. I think it is more likely to confirm what I wrote about four months ago — that the party that loses the presidency wins the governor's office in Virginia the next year.
Admittedly, Obama accomplished something unusual for Democratic presidential nominees when he carried Virginia last year. He was the first Democrat to do so since 1964 — and he was the first non–incumbent Democrat to carry the state since Franklin Roosevelt in 1932.
But the gubernatorial trend seems to function independently of the state's preference in presidential politics. Nominees of both parties have won the governor's office in the last 32 years — including Doug Wilder, the first black elected governor in any state — even though Virginia voted for Republican presidential candidates in 10 straight elections before voting for Obama last year.
If Democrat Creigh Deeds wins the election in six weeks, that may be a tangible sign that a realignment is taking place. But if Republican Bob McDonnell wins, it would be wrong to assume that it indicates anything more than business as usual.
And if the theory of realignment is dealt a setback in next year's midterm elections, it would be a serious mistake for Democrats to assume it is due to racism. It will be an indication that another political trend is alive and well, one I wrote about last month.
A president's party almost always takes it on the chin in the midterms. Obama knows what will minimize those losses — job creation — and claims he asks his economic advisers about job creation regularly. But promises he made on the campaign trail appear to have been abandoned in favor of political expedience.
Well, the nation is fast approaching a 10% unemployment rate — something with which more than a dozen states already are dealing. Unless there is clear improvement in the next six months, Obama's party is likely to lose ground in Congress in 2010.
Talk of a realignment will fade — and racism will have little, if anything, to do with it, regardless of how each side chooses to spin it.
Labels:
Brent Budowsky,
history,
Obama,
politics,
realignment,
The Hill,
Virginia,
Wall Street Journal
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Random Thoughts
Today is one of those days when I have several things I'd like to write about, and they all kind of lead me in the same direction, but you have to follow a long and winding road to reach the common destination.
So I'll resort to a tactic often used by the late Blackie Sherrod in his sports columns for the Dallas Morning News and do some "scattershooting:"
So I'll resort to a tactic often used by the late Blackie Sherrod in his sports columns for the Dallas Morning News and do some "scattershooting:"
- The Virginia governor's race: Rosalind Helderman reports, in the Washington Post, that Attorney General Bob McDonnell, the Republican candidate for governor, congratulated Democrat Creigh Deeds on his victory in yesterday's gubernatorial primary.
That, of course, is the kind of thing that is expected in American politics. McDonnell beat Deeds in the race for attorney general four years ago, and, as I understand it, the campaign was vicious. It seems to be understood in Virginia that the two men don't like each other, and neither man made much of an effort to change that impression in 2005.
"The campaigns will also almost certainly become personal," writes Helderman.
Nevertheless, common courtesy dictates that you congratulate the winner of the opposing party's primary, and that is precisely what McDonnell did.
And he also seemed intent on setting a different tenor for this campaign than we've been accustomed to from Republicans in the first half of 2009.
The GOP has been dubbed "the party of no," but McDonnell apparently wants to change the language — and, with it, the drift of the debate — in the gubernatorial race.
"This campaign is saying yes to new jobs for our citizens," McDonnell said. "Yes to offshore drilling and more energy. Yes to charter schools and performance pay and to real education reform, and yes to greater access and affordability at our colleges and universities to serve our young people better."
Does that mean the "party of no" is now the "party of yes?"
In a word ... no. - Car loans: They say that the credit freeze is thawing, but if it is thawing in the realm of auto loans, it's doing so very slowly.
Mina Kimes writes in Fortune.com that car dealers have managed to get more people into their showrooms with "rebates, discounts and other incentives," but it's still tough to get financing.
In 2007–2008, Kimes reports, "loan approval rates for prime applicants, who have credit scores above 750, fell from 95% to 84%. ... Subprime applicants were far worse off — just 17% of them were approved last December, down from 66% in 2007."
Kimes says there has been a "slight uptick" in loan approvals in 2009 "with 89% of prime applications and 20% of subprime borrowers receiving loans in May."
But Greg McBride, a senior financial analyst at Bankrate.com, observes, "The days of showing up with nothing but a smile on your face are over. Today, stories are legion of people who have great credit and still can't get car loans."
I worked for many years in the auto loan industry. I knew at the time that many loans were being approved that could not possibly be repaid. But I was merely a cog in the industry. I had no authority to approve or disapprove of loans. And I knew only too well that those who did have that authority were under intense pressure to approve damn near everything that crossed their desks.
From that perspective, it's a good thing that lenders are being more responsible. But I fear the pendulum may have swung too far in the other direction.
As long as lenders are saying no to loan applicants, there will continue to be problems in the auto industry.
And with them, problems in the economy.
Cash flow is the fuel of the economy. Few things generate cash flow like car payments. - "Saved" jobs: Perhaps nothing has been subjected to as much spin in recent months — from both the right and the left — as the stimulus package and its impact on the economy.
The monthly jobs reports continue to tell a tale of hundreds of thousands of jobs that are being lost each month, and that is something the right seizes upon. Then the left insists that things are getting better because we aren't losing as many jobs each month as we were, which — supposedly — is because of the stimulus package.
But, as I mentioned in this blog last week, news that is less bad is not the same as news that is good. So Barack Obama feels compelled now to speak about the jobs that are being "saved" by the stimulus package. He claims that 150,000 jobs were "saved" in the first 100 days of his presidency.
Thus, that which appeared on the surface to be less bad news is transformed into good news.
I have to think about that one.
See, that presents me with a similar problem. I mean, maybe there are some jobs that are being saved because of the stimulus package. But, if that is true, is that the same thing as creating jobs? I don't think so.
If Person A's job doesn't disappear, Person A doesn't wind up being one of the millions of unemployed Americans, and that's good. But how does that help Person B, who has been out of work since last summer? Or the millions of others who have lost their jobs in the last year or so? How does that help Person C, who is about to lose his/her job through no fault of his/her own?
As much as I hate to give Rush Limbaugh credit for anything, I have to admit he makes a good point when he says there is no reliable way to prove that jobs have been saved.
It seems to me that, if you claim to have saved jobs and then the numbers show jobs have been lost during the time period in question, you can then claim that the number of jobs lost would have been greater if not for your efforts — without having to substantiate your claim.
How can you establish which jobs definitely are going to be cut? There is no rhyme nor reason to it, as nearly as I can tell. And, once you have arrived at that number, how can you calculate the ones that were saved?
How does one prove or disprove a negative?
The entire concept of "saving" jobs is troublesome for me — and so is the notion being floated by the Obama administration about more than half a million summer jobs that will be created by ratcheted–up stimulus spending.
I wasn't anywhere close to being the best student in my class in math so it's hard for me to get a handle on the logic supporting this claim.
But the part that I can get a handle on raises some red flags in my head.
I've heard nothing that suggests that these jobs will be anything more than temporary, make–work jobs. Maybe I've missed something. I admit, I'm hardly a mathematician so, if you can explain to me how it is possible to determine how many jobs have been saved in a given period of time, I'd appreciate it.
Because it would be encouraging to be able to look at some daunting figures and spot the daylight at the end of the tunnel.
And, while losing 350,000 jobs in May isn't as bad as the 520,000 lost jobs that were predicted, it's still hard to find the silver lining in that cloud.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Deeds Wins in Virginia
The Clinton connection has worked well in some states, but Virginia isn't one of them.
Last year, for example, Barack Obama beat Hillary Clinton in Virginia's presidential primary by 25 percentage points. And Bill Clinton did better in Virginia in 1992 and 1996 than most Democrats have done in the last 40 years — but he still lost the state both times.
Close does count for something in political races, whether good or bad, and, even though Terry McAuliffe, Mrs. Clinton's former campaign chairman, was leading his rivals in polls I saw last month, state Sen. Creigh Deeds has won the primary.
He will face state Attorney General Bob McDonnell, the Republican who beat him in 2005 by 360 votes.
Turnout, while still low, was higher than expected, reports the Charlottesville Daily Progress.
As I wrote last month, for more than 30 years, the party that lost the White House has won the Virginia governor's office the following year. If that trend continues in 2009, then that will mean good news for Republicans in general and McDonnell in particular.
Last year, for example, Barack Obama beat Hillary Clinton in Virginia's presidential primary by 25 percentage points. And Bill Clinton did better in Virginia in 1992 and 1996 than most Democrats have done in the last 40 years — but he still lost the state both times.Close does count for something in political races, whether good or bad, and, even though Terry McAuliffe, Mrs. Clinton's former campaign chairman, was leading his rivals in polls I saw last month, state Sen. Creigh Deeds has won the primary.
He will face state Attorney General Bob McDonnell, the Republican who beat him in 2005 by 360 votes.
Turnout, while still low, was higher than expected, reports the Charlottesville Daily Progress.
As I wrote last month, for more than 30 years, the party that lost the White House has won the Virginia governor's office the following year. If that trend continues in 2009, then that will mean good news for Republicans in general and McDonnell in particular.
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