At a campaign stop in a picturesque Wisconsin town, Mandela Barnes makes the usual progressive promises.
Sturgeon Bay, Wis. — This morning, Mandela Barnes started a full day of campaigning, in his effort to unseat Senator Ron Johnson, in picturesque Door County, a peninsula between Green Bay and Lake Michigan considered by some the “Cape Cod of the Midwest.” In this affluent topographical “thumb” of the Dairy State, the Democrat made his pitch to the white-collar retirees who so often remove there from Chicago. The event was hosted at Lawlss Coffee, an ironic launch location for a candidate accused by his opponent of being soft on crime. A second irony stems from the history behind Door County’s name: Among the Europeans and natives who once sailed its dangerously fickle waters and passages, it gained a reputation as “Death’s Door.”
The turnout at the beautifully appointed bank-building-turned-coffee-shop numbered around a hundred Barnes supporters — a small number of them wearing medical masks. The two baristas, buried under coffee orders, were nonetheless delighted with the mustering throng and stopped to snap pictures, beaming all the while. The venue was so beyond capacity that an aide came in to inform us that the event would be held outside in front of the campaign bus. The group dutifully trooped outside and formed a semicircle to await the candidate’s emergence from the bus. When he did come forth, it was to much applause but a muted, seemingly self-conscious chant of “Mandela, Mandela, Mandela!”
Barnes made his way through the crowd shaking hands — each and every hand. He stopped to pet the dog beside me (which had previously taken a sizable nibble of an unguarded poppyseed scone in my hand), and the campaign photographer moved quickly to get the “He loves dogs!” shot. Barnes and I shook hands immediately following, the dog having captured the scone as well as the higher rung in the handshake hierarchy. I’ve previously reported on the Republican slate’s handshakes, and Barnes beat out Michels by a mile and Johnson by a shade. Barnes has larger hands and a strong shake, but failed to make eye contact.
Mandela Barnes greets a crowd of supporters before giving a stump speech in Sturgeon Bay, Wis. (Luther Abel)
Having observed Barnes in a debate setting, I can say he is much more in his element in front of an adoring crowd. He’s a far cry from a natural talent — one can see the gears lurch as he reminds himself to smile, look people in the eyes, and be confident — but it’s a relatively slime-less procedure. Indeed, Barnes struck me as an utterly average political operator. As I wrote of Johnson, I’m confident that Barnes believes what he says, but his base assumptions about the world range from impractical to objectionable and result in terrible policy prescriptions.
For the stump speech, aides had brought out a small stage made of plywood, along with a small PA system. From that perch, Barnes was visible to all, wearing the white-collar version of blue collar — a black-and-white checkered flannel shirt and maroon vest, dark jeans, fashionable high-tops, and a gray beanie cap. He fit in with the self-conception of the Midwestern upper middle class — earthy yet subtly wealthy.
Barnes began by leaning into this humble conception, speaking about how Ron Johnson had doubled his wealth in office while Wisconsin families were struggling to make ends meet. (A good wealth adviser should have your portfolio doubled every seven years on average, but it didn’t seem like a Dave Ramsey crowd.) The “Washington elites getting rich while Wisconsinites suffer” thing went on for about five minutes.
Then the candidate shifted to discussing Roe and the need to codify unlimited abortion access at the federal level. Referring to Johnson’s saying that Wisconsin women could move if they didn’t like the state’s rejection of Roe abortion policy, Barnes quipped, “Instead of women moving, how about we move Johnson out of office?” This was a crowd-pleaser, as the plurality of attendees were older, white women.
Barnes then went on to list how Johnson and Republicans have failed Wisconsin, said that Democratic senator Tammy Baldwin needed a good partner in Washington, and asked the gathering, “What can we [Democrats] offer?” Universal health care through federal action was the answer, a leapfrogging of a Republican Wisconsin legislature that has not adopted Medicaid expansion as established in the Affordable Care Act (Obamacare). He wrapped by asking all in attendance to try and win over a new voter every day until Election Day — whether previously unregistered to vote or just not intending to.
Barnes and his team — a diverse array of young people, with the bus driver seemingly a punk-styled trans woman in Doc Martens boots — stayed for 20 minutes after the speech, taking pictures with many in the crowd. I ducked inside Lawlss to write this up before heading to Green Bay, where Barnes is scheduled to speak to organized labor at the union pub later in the afternoon.
