Steamroll vs. Handshake

Toward the end of this week’s cover story in New York magazine, John Heilemann sums up what he sees as the difference between Clinton and Obama supporters:

If you find yourself drawn to the Clinton candidacy, you likely believe that politics is politics, that partisanship isn’t transmutable, that Republicans are for the most part irredeemable. You suspect that talk of transcendence amounts to humming “Kumbaya” past the graveyard. ... If you find yourself swept up in Obamamania, on the other hand, you regard this assessment as sad, defeatist, as a kind of capitulation. You’re perfectly aware that politics is often a dirty business. But you believe it could be a bit cleaner, a bit nobler, a bit more sustaining. You think that paradigm shifts can happen, that the system can be rebooted. Most of all, an attraction to Obama indicates you are, on some level, a romantic. You never had your JFK, your MLK, and you desperately crave one: What you want is to fall in love.

There’s certainly something to this. It’s true that I’m more romantic than some of my friends who are still leaning toward (or at least willing to consider) Hillary. But I also think this clever summary doesn’t do enough rigorous thinking about the key difference upon which Heilemann bases his piece -- the difference between the candidates' "worldviews."

(Obama) believes that, as he often says, “we can disagree without being disagreeable.” He’s convinced that unity is attainable through the right kind of leadership: his.

Clinton doesn’t say so quite this bluntly, but she manifestly considers Obama’s outlook woefully naïve. Her view of the culture of Washington is darker, and of transforming it, more skeptical. And while she prefers to speak of achieving change through hard work—to paint herself as the candidate of perspiration as opposed to inspiration—at bottom she conceives of politics as an endless series of skirmishes.

I hope we can agree that describing Clinton’s outlook as “more skeptical” is an understatement. This is the woman who called imminent mudslinging against a fellow Democrat “the fun part,” and who, after losing Iowa, was talking most loudly about the fact that she can “survive the Republican attack machine.”

Despite the impression I may have given in past posts, I think Hillary Clinton is brilliant. She’s forgotten more about policy than many lifetime politicians will ever know. And to her credit, her aspect is much sharper and more pragmatic than the soft, creepy tones with which Bill promises to feel people’s pain.

But time and again -- even as Obama piles up endorsements from “red state” Democrats, and is spoken highly of by Republican colleagues -- Clinton trumpets her merciless combativeness as her greatest strength. But I believe part of the reason this country is so close to 50-50 in so many major elections is because all people have is their party. Uninspired candidates who don’t even attempt to transcend party have been the norm as long as I’ve been of voting age (which hasn’t been tremendously long, I admit, but neither am I a young idealist besotted with Obama).

But Hillary Clinton doesn't just decline to attempt transcending party, she insists we cannot. Her argument, as I see it, is that cynicism is productive. But hard experience would tell me that cynicism is only ever enervating in the long run. There’s a reason voter turnout is at an all-time high on the Democrats’ side -- many people are not just supportive of Barack Obama, they are excited by him. And excitement tends to spur action. Energy creates results, while cynicism might satisfyingly feed self-righteousness in true believers, but it creates deep apathy in anyone not interested in either side’s Kool-Aid.

In this week’s New Republic, a liberal blogger is quoted as saying, “Our community tends to be filled with people who ... are largely skeptical that it's possible to reach across the aisle and get anything other than slapped for your efforts.”

I get that. But what’s the alternative? If the majority of Americans believe the parties should move past their most cartoonish battles, won’t it take a three-dimensional person to help do that? Clinton firmly believes in the need to steamroll her opponents; Obama believes in shaking their hand while changing their mind. Has the former approach ever helped you get someone to work with you? (Not work for you; that’s a different story, though you could certainly make the case for Obama's approach there, too.)

I suppose this is the last I'll say on the subject until the Super Tuesday results are in. Happy voting, everybody.