Letter of Warning from a Young Patriot

On Tuesday, Barack Obama won decisively in Maryland, Virginia, and the District of Columbia. He was expected to win these contests, but he was not expected to win by such overwhelming margins, and he was not expected to carry women, Latinos, and poor whites.

After the results came in, Obama delivered yet another masterful speech, the kind of speech most politicians would be lucky to give once in their careers—in short, the kind of speech we have come to expect from him nightly. Meanwhile, John McCain gave the keynote address at the Geriatric Narcoleptics’ Convention.

In her concession speech, Hillary Clinton failed to concede anything. She fell back on her standard “I’ll fight for you” formula, never mentioning that there had been any voting earlier in the day. Whether you attribute this to defensiveness or denial or carelessness, it highlighted a stunning fact: for the first time in this campaign, Hillary looks like a loser.

There is no way to predict what will happen in the coming weeks. However, assuming that Obama keeps up his winning streak, one can imagine a not-too-distant future in which most Democrats agree that Hillary should step aside for the good of the party. The question then is whether Hillary would listen. As Peggy Noonan asked in a recent column, “If it comes to it, down the road, can she give a nice speech, thank her supporters, wish Barack Obama well, and vow to campaign for him?”

All I can say is: I hope so.

Because if we know anything about the Clintons, we know that they love a good fight. They also love an ugly, drawn-out, mutually destructive fight. After decades of tilting at the vast right-wing conspiracy, Hillary may now be poised to battle a left-wing conspiracy—also known as a majority—if that’s what it takes to win.

And if that happens—if Senator Clinton uses her political capital to cut shady deals with superdelegates, or tries to force the DNC to seat the delegates from Florida and Michigan, or injects more of her own millions into her campaign—it would be shameful, not only for the Democrats, but for democracy.

Of course, it may never get to that point. It may be alarmist of me even to worry about such a thing. But remember: I was sixteen when the Supreme Court handed the presidency to George W. Bush. My political consciousness was forged during his disastrous administration. The politics I know has been dominated by swiftboating, fearmongering, and fundamentalism. In the politics I know, there is no limit to how dark things can get.

For as long as I can remember, Washington has been a punching bag, a laughingstock, a source of shame. It has never inspired my respect, much less my hope. I have voted against politicians, but rarely for them.

Among people over 30, there is a common misperception that my generation has an apathy problem. But young people like me are not apathetic. We are distrustful — and reasonably so — that electoral politicians are willing to engage with real problems.

Somehow, Barack Obama has transcended that distrust. He has built a base out of those who were least likely to get involved: young people, minorities, first-time voters, independents. For many of us, he is the only candidate we would imagine referring to not “the President,” but “my President.” He is the only candidate in our lifetimes who has seemed to us more human than machine.

Another misperception rampant among talking heads—most of them, uncoincidentally, over 30—is that this allegiance is based on style, not substance. That the kids are just thrilling to Obama’s charisma, not to his proposals or his resume. But I have news for them: Obama is saying something. He wouldn’t get the kind of reception he does if he just stood up and said, “Change! Hope! I’m handsome! Goodnight!”

We all know he is the only pure anti-war candidate. But listen to how he says it: “I don’t want to just end the war; I want to end the mindset that got us into war.” This may sound like a cliché, but it is actually slyly subversive.

We all know that Democrats favor social services. At the debate at Howard University, back when there were eight Democratic candidates, they were all asked about education, and they all said the right things: “I will fight” for higher pay for teachers, “I will fight” for early education, and so on. Gravel shouted when he said it, Hillary droned when she said it, but they all said it. Obama said all those things too, and then he said this:

“But the most important thing is that we recognize these children as our children. The reason that we have consistently had under-performance among our children is because too many of us think it is acceptable for them not to achieve…We need somebody in the White House who’s going to recognize these children as our own.”

There is a big difference between a politician who vows to “fight for” kids in underperforming schools and one who professes to love them, to treat them as his own. Yes, the difference is largely rhetorical; but rhetoric is important. Rhetoric can articulate a society’s values. Rhetoric can change history. “Bring ‘em on” is also mere rhetoric, but it is of dire importance. Whereas Bush’s rhetoric brings out the worst in the American psyche, Obama consistently aims to bring out the best. That’s what his “Yes We Can” slogan is all about—not Yes We Can elect Obama as president, but Yes We Can fix our communities, if we have the right leadership. There is a world of difference between “I will fight for you” and “I will inspire you to fight for yourself.”

Remember “Ask not what your country can do for you”? Those were just words, too; but they made a difference in people’s lives, largely because of the inspiring personality behind them. Hillary is fond of warning, “You campaign in poetry, but you govern in prose,” but this is not quite right. Great leaders govern in poetry as well as prose, because great leaders use rhetoric to inspire their citizens to greatness.

Obama’s vision is ambitious, and it cannot be achieved simply by being “tough,” or by pushing bills through Congress. It can only be achieved by transformative leadership.

Improbably, Obama has already convinced thousands of volunteers, hundreds of thousands of donors, and millions of voters to believe in his message of hope. If the Democrats nominate Obama, they can tap into the spontaneous, unprecedented movement that has formed around that message. If, on the other hand, his message is crushed in Denver by the same old cynical dealmaking we have come to expect, people like me might never have the courage to care about politics again.

Legend has it that Lyndon B. Johnson, moments after signing the Civil Rights Act, lamented, “We have just lost the South for a generation.” Since Hillary is fond of comparing herself to LBJ, she should take heed: if she strong-arms this nomination process, she risks alienating an entire generation from politics.