March 28, 2012        A publication of Thursday Review, copyright 2012

With nearly 100% of the Bayou State’s primary votes counted, and with Rick Santorum and his team celebrating their victory, the question quickly shifts to the road ahead, and to the justification for another month of caucuses and primaries for Republicans.  Why should this contest continue?  Is there a higher purpose served by prolonging the final selection of a GOP nominee?

The contemporary precedent is, of course, not hard to find: it was only four years ago that Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama battled feverishly and bitterly for every vote all the way to June.  Though there were plenty of loyalists within the Democratic Party and wise voices outside of the party who strongly advised moderation and an early resolution, both candidates had tactical and strategic rationales for continuing the fight.  Obama managed to get slightly ahead—and then stayed slightly ahead—but the contest remained maddeningly tight right to the finish line.  The battle was symmetrical: two massive fundraising machines, two behemoth organizations, two titans of the Senate and their party; two candidates with only marginally different liberal legislative agendas

But that’s where the comparison to this year’s Republican race quickly breaks down, and the current battle we are witnessing is far from symmetrical.

For the GOP, a decades-old struggle over ideological purity has once again been illuminated, with Santorum representing a long tradition of challenge to the establishment and insurgent rhetoric: from Wendell Willkie to Barry Goldwater, from Ronald Reagan to Philip Crane, from Patrick Buchanan to Michelle Bachmann.  Furthermore, over the long arc of the 1980s and 1990s, Republicans got what they wished for: success among social conservatives and evangelicals in the South, Midwest and Plains States.  Add to this metric the more recent phenomena of the Tea Party, with its measurable impact on the Congressional elections of 2010 and its seemingly irresistible sway over the tone and tenor of anti-Obama rhetoric.  The Republican Party should (as it often has) benefit from this energetic expansion of its activist base.

But a deep and painful recession—along with a significant distrust of Wall Street and financial institutions—has exposed social differences between establishment bluebloods and traditionalists (often high earners) and the more insurgent populist forces of the middle classes, evangelicals and Reagan Democrats.  The narrative too easily presents itself: Romney as Wall Street versus Santorum as Main Street.

This is not an unfamiliar script for Republicans, and though the actors change—and though they are sometimes miscast—we have seen this Shakespearean play before: Rockefeller versus Goldwater; Ford versus Reagan; Bush versus Dole.  Richard Nixon made it a more-or-less permanent part of his persona to be at war with what he called “the East Coast Elites.”  And in the long primary campaign of 1980, the storyline easily unfolded for journalists and news editors to grasp: George H.W. Bush as a product of Andover, Yale and Skull & Bones; Ronald Reagan as a product of the Illinois heartland, summer jobs as a lifeguard, and Eureka College.

Historically, the GOP has been adept at bringing these two socially and culturally diverse factions together under one banner by stressing commonalities and shared beliefs, and by reminding adherents of the Party of Lincoln that success in November outweighs ideological fealty.  But this election cycle shows us an insurgency unwilling as yet to concede defeat to the establishment, even as Gingrich downsizes his underfunded campaign and Santorum all but acknowledges the long odds ahead.

Tactically, too, this is anything but the symmetrical warfare we witnessed among the Democrats four years ago.

Mitt Romney’s on-the-ground organization has been impressive, and his ability to channel money—either directly through his campaign or by way of his Super PAC—has been astounding.  In some states Romney has outspent his opponents seven-to-one.  His fundraising and spending capacities have given him a distinct advantage in those most complex and costly of TV markets—Florida, Ohio, Illinois, as examples.  Romney’s superior management team has been able to direct—and redirect—resources and cash wisely and efficiently, targeting population centers and winnable suburbs, focusing on the right Congressional districts when delegates are at stakes, ignoring or bypassing regions and locales which may produce limited success.  All told, these advantages have brought him over halfway toward the required 1144 delegates needed to claim the nomination.

For Santorum (and for Gingrich as well) the primary and caucus season has been a continuous learning curve.  Santorum has faced multiple setbacks: missed deadlines for filing as a candidate; an inability to gather minimum signatures required in some areas and in some states (neither Santorum nor Gingrich made the ballot in Virginia, essentially ceding the entire state to Romney); wasted travel time and on-the-ground exposure in locations not likely to produce results. As an example Puerto Rico was, at best, a long-shot for Santorum.  The former senator could have easily used that valuable time and those precious resources campaigning more extensively in Illinois.  These logistical misfires and missed opportunities have measurably limited Santorum’s ability to acquire delegates, and in a few cases deprived him—narrowly in Ohio and Michigan—of moral victory as well.

It has been something like watching the Pittsburgh Steelers play against the best high school football team in Pennsylvania.  A far cry from symmetrical, but yet the football game continues, with Santorum continuing to exceed expectations.

So that raises the question: why does the insurgency still resonate?  Why does Rick Santorum’s quasi populist appeal still attract so many voters in so many areas?  Why do both Santorum and Gingrich still so clearly see an open path toward the convention? There are several possible answers.

For one, the depth of anti-Obama feeling among red state constituencies is deep, and it has intensified with time.  Though the President has been described by many in the mainstream press as governing from the center-right, his critics define him as sharply left-of-center.  Further, despite the President’s many attempts at conciliation and pragmatism—for example, his recent partial turnaround on the proposed Keystone pipeline project—voter frustration is still high.  The economy has improved, but only in small increments, and often these forward steps are accompanied by setbacks.  Rising gas prices may yet quash many of the recent gains.  Despite small moves forward on jobs, millions of Americans are still unemployed and under-employed.  And when it comes to home prices, there are few optimists.  All told the economy remains anemic.  This generalized lack of confidence has hammered the President’s approval ratings back below the water line.

Despite President Obama’s success as extracting the U.S. from Iraq, the American military remains entangled in Afghanistan, and there is a sense that we have overstayed.  Recent violent events in Afghanistan indicate clearly that we have crossed the threshold into diminishing return.

And, finally, there is Obama Care—the constitutionality of which is being argued this very week before the Supreme Court.  This health care package remains one of the hottest of the hot button issues for many Americans.

Mitt Romney should, on the face of it, benefit strongly and decisively from any Obama slump, but it is largely the insurrectionists within the GOP who reap the larger rewards when primary and caucus-goers go to the polls.  Romney’s words as a gubernatorial candidate—and his record as governor of Massachusetts—continue to limit his penetration into GOP voters who describe themselves as conservative or very conservative, and the governor is linked, fairly or unfairly, to “Romney Care” as the template for Obama Care.  Tea Partiers, social conservatives and evangelicals have not warmed to Romney despite his measurable success in the primaries and caucuses.

During the long series of GOP debates, the other candidates were largely successful in painting an unflattering portrait of Mitt Romney.  The attacks on the former governor were relentless and sometimes harsh, and the common themes—Romney’s flip-flips (real or perceived), his ideological flexibility on key issues (see this week’s Etch-a-Sketch visuals), his authorship of Romney Care, his cheerful pandering—created a narrative of Romney generally unpalatable to many social conservatives and movement rightists.

Now Romney’s supporters and surrogates point to Illinois, where many self-described conservatives broke with the pattern and voted for Romney, especially in the areas geographically closest to Chicago and Springfield—the cities, the affluent suburbs and commuter exurbs. These votes helped catapult Romney to a solid win which left Santorum nine points down.  But those who describe themselves as conservative or very conservative in places like Aurora or Skokie or Carol Stream are not the same as their conservative counterparts in Iowa, South Carolina, Tennessee, Missouri or Alabama.

Outside of his comfort zone of cities and suburbs, Mitt Romney remains a candidate for whom there is substantial distrust among GOP voters who describe themselves as conservative or very conservative.  As I illustrated in my previous article, Romney has been winning in what amounts to an immense chain of islands through the population centers.  Discounting his easy wins in Massachusetts (his home state), Virginia (where neither Santorum nor Gingrich were on the ballot) and New Hampshire (where historically neither southerners nor idealists perform well), Romney has largely left the landscape untouched.  For Romney, Illinois more closely resembles his wins in South Florida and Nevada. And a quick look at a map of Louisiana makes the point even sharper: Santorum won every parish in the Bayou State except Orleans. 

Tactically, of course, this is usually a smart way to win a nomination, but it carries with it a strategic danger.  Romney’s handlers and strategists predict that social conservatives and evangelicals will return to the fold.  Unlike the Democratic Party in contemporary times, the GOP’s gravitational forces are strong even among those predisposed toward the party but somewhat disaffected by a rancorous primary and caucus season.  But the strident revolutionary tenor of the insurrectionist movement—some have called the current mood apocalyptic—has led to a Goldwater-like determination by Romney’s opponents who envision stopping Romney short of the magic number before convention business begins in Tampa.

Even as he reduced his campaign staff to less than half and sharply reduced expectations in any of the remaining primary states, Gingrich vowed this week to press on right to the convention.

For Santorum there is little left except for the hope that he can pull off a series of high profile landslide wins—in virtually every remaining contest—something akin to drawing a royal flush followed by another royal flush in the same hour of poker.

Still, even with Romney picking up the endorsements this week of former President George H.W. Bush and Senator Marco Rubio of Florida, polls indicate that rank-and-rile Republicans—social conservatives, evangelicals and most Tea Partiers—remain wary of Romney.  Clearly, the GOP elders and power brokers want to bring this contest to a conclusion.  Just as clearly, the insurrection remains relevant, at least to those within the GOP who see a higher purpose in an ideological fight.



Copyright 2012, Thursday Review


 

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