By Shawn Macomber on 1.7.08 @ 12:08AM
McCain's candidacy is resurrected in New Hampshire.
PORTSMOUTH, N.H. -- "The best-laid plans of mice and men go oft
awry."
The poet Robert Burns may have written that line more than two
centuries ago, but it holds up fairly well nonetheless on the
precipice of the New Hampshire primary as disciplined candidates
with well-calibrated paths to the nomination go into full meltdown
mode.
For John McCain, however, the awry has, bizarrely,
transmogrified into the best-laid plan. If McCain wins in a blowout
here tomorrow night -- and my notoriously unreliable inner Magic 8
ball currently reads, All Signs Point to Yes -- the
Arizona Senator will have his many policy liabilities to thank for
the turnaround.
After the Gang of 14, taking an Exacto blade to the First
Amendment, breaking with the party on "enhanced interrogation techniques," running out of
money and, especially, the immigration reform fiasco, few
Republican contenders saw much use in beating a politically dead
senator. Rudy Giuliani and Fred Thompson went out of their way to
praise McCain, likely suspecting kind words were more eulogy than
endorsement. Others ignored him. And so McCain went under the
radar, neither having to endure early scathing attacks nor sullying
himself in the agonizingly protracted campaign -- partly McCain's doing, ironically enough -- that tested
the patience of virtually everyone in the state.
As the surge began to pay what will hopefully be
sustainable dividends in Iraq and other candidates shot themselves
in the foot, McCain returned bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Despite
having been in the running for the Republican nomination years
longer than most of his opponents, the media's favorite maverick
found himself the fresh face of the race, playing his time in the
political wilderness off as a matter of not wanting to wrestle with pigs.
"I gotta tell you it feels a little like it did eight years
ago," McCain told well over 100 supporters at a post-debate rally
on Saturday night, all packed into a room that had reached capacity
two hours before he arrived. "Some call it Lazarus-like..."
This political resurrection indeed borders on the miraculous.
Last week I attended five McCain events, sure at each I'd seen the
wave crest, only to watch it grow larger the next day. It began
with a surprisingly large midday crowd at a diner to greet McCain
and liberal pariah/Democratic endorser Joe
Lieberman. Two days later a small opera house just barely fit
everyone who turned out. Fire marshals had to turn people away from
a town hall meeting in Peterborough.
At the McCain debate watch party, a steady stream of political
celebrities came out of the woodwork to endorse their risen
colleague. Connecticut Representative Chris Shays said he was there
to do "penance" for not supporting McCain -- "the man I believe
will be a great, great president" -- in 2000. Maine Senator Olympia
Snowe called McCain "as authentic as you can be." Former Louisiana
Governor Buddy Roemer regaled with folksy stories before warning
the crowd the Republican primary field was full of "many good
people, but only one great leader."
Even ordinary supporters with no chance of meeting McCain filed
into the main section of the restaurant, commandeering televisions
from football fans. Boos erupted whenever Romney appeared on
screen. The crowd continued to grow as the debate progressed,
engulfing pool tables under framed stills from Rat Pack films and
The Hustler. When McCain finally arrived, the roar was
deafening.
Minnesota Fats never pulled off a hustle this smooth. McCain has
many grassroots Republicans he was so estranged from not so long
ago laying their chips on him again.
AT A PANERA BREAD in Portsmouth on Sunday morning I met an
evangelical minister who had been nearly committed to Romney until
the former Massachusetts governor's debate performances and
advertising began to feel too mean-spirited for his tastes. After a
brief flirt with Huckabee -- "he seems like a socially conservative
Democrat to me" -- he decided not only to vote for McCain, but has
been making calls on his behalf.
"I never thought I'd be for McCain, but I think he's the only
conservative who's gone through this race with dignity," he said,
shrugging.
Even after going through the rationalization process, this
landscape shift can remain baffling. A little over a year ago
I
saw McCain speak in Keene, New Hampshire. When the senator
explained he didn't want to leave "millions of people in shadows,
not part of our society but working," the crowd sulked in stony
silence. A few minutes later a member of the audience called
illegal immigrants "parasites" and declared, "They should all be
thrown out. No amnesty, no exception. I don't care if they've been
here 50 years." McCain stood with a forced grin as applause
rivaling his entrance echoed off the walls.
Last Thursday McCain told a crowd not an hour south of Keene he
understood the American people didn't trust the government to do
the right thing on immigration. Considering how far out front he
was on the issue, this distrust presumably extends to McCain. Yet
instead of jeers, loud whoops and cheers followed this time. McCain
beamed and nodded.
The guys driving the McCain=Amnesty van seem shocked at
their target's newfound Teflon coating. Other concerns over McCain,
voiced
by such stalwart and astute observers as Quin Hillyer ("As truly
horrific as it would be for the liberal and unethical Mike Huckabee
to win the Republican presidential nomination, many Republicans
still believe it would be almost as difficult to stomach the
nomination of John McCain"), are gaining surprisingly little
traction under the new Ascendant McCain paradigm. There isn't
anyone giving him a hard time over McCain-Feingold for the First
Amendment. His fellow candidates are happy to note his opposition
to the Bush tax cuts, but voters appear disinclined to squawk about
neo-ancient history.
Even the dissenters in his crowds are content to mostly needle
him about the Iraq war -- the topic that inspires his most
eloquent, grassroots Republican-pleasing retorts.
Political predictions this year, as John Tabin notes,
are a Choose Your Own Adventure novel at best, a fool's errand at
worst. McCain may not, as Mark Steyn posits, be able to "contain the nastiness." If,
however, Romney's screeching implosion proceeds unabated and
Giuliani's one-note
campaign continues to falter, however, devotees of "National
Greatness" conservatism might very well flock to McCain to head
Mike Huckabee -- a man who believes childhood obesity is a matter of
national security -- off at the pass.
McCain couldn't have planned it any better. Now if the mice
could just get their act together.
American Spectator Contributing Editor Shawn Macomber is writing a book on the Global Class
War.
topics:
John McCain, Television, Iraq, NATO, Conservatism, Immigration