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4.20.00 4.20.00 4.20.00 4.19.00 4.19.00 4.18.00 4.18.00 4.17.00 4.14.00 4.14.00 4.14.00 4.14.00 4.14.00 4.13.00 4.12.00 4.10.00 4.06.00 4.06.00 4.04.00 4.04.00 4.03.00 4.03.00
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4/20/00
12:15 p.m. |
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McCain surrounded those words with a mea culpa, an apology, of sorts. "I should have done this earlier, when an honest answer could have affected me personally," he conceded. "I did not do so for one reason alone. I feared that if I answered honestly I could not win the South Carolina primary." McCain's adviser-fed premise — that a call for the removal of the Confederate flag that flies atop the South Carolina statehouse meant losing that state's primary — may have been wrong. In reality, had McCain spoken those words at the outset of the three-week campaign between the New Hampshire and South Carolina primaries, he may well have become the Republican nominee. Instead, his uncomfortable political maneuvering began to undermine the straight-talk rationale that had propelled him to legitimacy in the first place. Though he was far more scripted than the fawning media coverage led people to conclude, McCain did campaign with a consequences-be-damned attitude. He spoke with national Republican Party leaders about his ideas for campaign-finance reform. He spoke with the Log Cabin Republicans about his desire to ban gay marriage. He spoke to Iowans about his the need to eliminate ethanol subsidies. Just as his advisers wanted voters to believe, McCain seemed willing to talk about anything, at anytime, with anyone. So the contrast was glaring when, in the weeks leading up to the South Carolina primary, McCain refused to talk at length about the one issue that South Carolinians couldn't stop talking about: the flag. He was noticeably nervous in television interviews. He spoke guardedly to print reporters. At one press conference, McCain — the same candidate who waxed extemporaneously for hours on his bus about trade with China and debt-reduction plans — even responded to a Flag question with a stilted, cringe-inducing reading from a press release. McCain's South Carolina advisers had told him calling for the removal of the Flag would be politically suicidal — not shocking advice, given that his South Carolina inner circle included at least one leader of South Carolina's "heritage" movement, the informal group spearheading the defense of the flag. The conventional wisdom coming out of Washington echoed these sentiments, and George W. Bush had already indicated that he would sidestep the controversy by declaring it a local issue, one for South Carolinians to decide without outsiders imposing their views. Safe. McCain accepted the advice of his advisers and took a position similar to Bush's, ensuring that neither would gain a political advantage over the other by using the issue. But McCain's self-flagellating oratory yesterday signaled that he considers his campaign position a moral mistake. "I broke my promise to always tell the truth," he acknowledged. "I'm not so naive to believe that politics must never involve compromise. But I was raised to know that I should never sacrifice a principle for personal ambition." McCain's failure to talk straight in South Carolina began to chip away the very rationale for his candidacy. (Just a few days later, he did irreparable damage with his dissembling on the Catholic Voter Alert Calls.) But he also missed a tremendous opportunity to give the kind of remarkable speech he hoped his Virginia Beach harangue would be. The ingredients for grand political theater were there: A true war hero offering a passionate reflection on the war that nearly ended the world's greatest nation, a war fought over that nation's founding principle--that all men are created equal. Abraham Lincoln. Patriotism. The founding of the Republican Party. The American flag. Two months to the day after he was defeated in the South Carolina primary, McCain gave South Carolinians a taste of what could have been included in a great speech. "My ancestors fought for the Confederacy, and I'm sure many, maybe all of them, fought with courage and with faith that they were serving a cause greater than themselves. But I don't believe their service, however distinguished, needs to be commemorated in a way that offends, that deeply hurts people whose ancestors were once denied their freedom by my ancestors." But the most ironic element of McCain's SC mistake is this: It was based on the flawed premise that McCain couldn't do what he felt was right, and win. Thirty percent of South Carolina voters are black, virtually all of them Democrats. But South Carolina's primary was open. Democrats and independents could vote in the Republican primary, and Bush had already staked his claim to religious conservatives, a bloc that features many of the pro-flag "heritage" South Carolinians and were less likely to vote for McCain (even before his ill-advised comments in VA) over Bush or Keyes. By campaigning on the flag issue, especially because he genuinely wanted it removed, McCain may very well have been able to energize black voters — who overwhelmingly stayed home — to vote for him. Minority turnout generally spikes when race issues figure prominently in elections, and, in retrospect, McCain's eventual loss by 11 percentage points doesn't seem insurmountable with a potential new constituency of some 30 percent of the state's voters. McCain's speech also signaled that despite his pledge to support "the Republican nominee," he's not yet playing for Bush's team. Bush has spent the bulk of his time since the primary trying to recapture the sense that he is, indeed, a "compassionate conservative," in his mind, a different kind of Republican. If a city he visits has a "barrio," it's a good bet Bush will hold an event there. He has gotten good press for this. But McCain's remarks today remind voters of Bush's non-position position on the flag. Bush offered one statement on McCain's reversal in which the governor basically confirmed his it's-none-of-my-business view. His advisers say they aren't terribly worried about the story's impact, convinced that McCain's reversal is a one-day story. They may be right in the short term, but it's worth noting that Gore spokesman Chris Lehane jumped at the opportunity to tell any news organization that would listen (most of them), that Bush is an extremist who lacks leadership skills. Lehane's eagerness to attack isn't news. But given Gore's willingness to use race shamelessly to win support, and some early signs that Gore will try to build on the success Democrats had with minority voters in 1998, Bush would do well to soften his position a bit. Bush need not make a McCain-like reversal or offer any dramatic mea culpa. But just as McCain damaged his reputation as a straight-talker by taking a pass on the flag, by saying nothing Bush risks tarnishing the image of being a "uniter, not a divider" that he's working so hard to refine. The Flag issue will fly again this fall. |
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ohn McCain yesterday
spoke the ten words that he and his advisers believed would have brought
a swift end to his presidential bid had they escaped his lips two months
earlier: "I believe the flag should be removed from your capitol."
