Thoughts on Hil’s Concession
Andrew Sullivan has an interesting take, noting that Hil suggested she ran because of her gender. He goes on to write:
“I think history will show that she didn’t quite have the talent to do it on her own steam, but that she made it much easier for another woman to become president one day. Her two biggest problems: She first married a man who was her political superior and was then defeated by one. She is a very talented politician but it was her fate to find her career hemmed in by two even more talented ones: Bill and Barack. She made up for it all with enormous hard work, diligence and ruthlessness. At any other moment, she would have won. But this is history and politics at the highest level. You cannot defeat such a moment if you are a Salieri. And she had to deal with two Mozarts.”
Here’s my take on it:
Hillary’s concession speech gives us another example of her major shortcoming: she’s been too guarded all along. Today’s speech was dignified, regal even—but very far from personal. There wasn’t any heart in it. At a moment when the entire country (maybe the world) wants to know exactly how Hillary feels, she gets up there and gives a robust speech about supporting the Democratic cause.
Hillary had an incredible opportunity today. Her campaign angered a lot of people, but she had a chance to win everyone back with a fabulous, honest, soulful speech. Yes, 18 million people voted for her—but more voted against her. Now was Hillary’s chance to appeal to everyone, to take off the gloves and remind us that she’s a person, too. We were ready to feel for her. We just needed a bit of reflection, a bit of Hillary to shine through. Instead, the speech was boilerplate, totally forgetful. The moment had a huge amount of dramatic possibility. Clinton failed to recognize this—or perhaps it was too much for her to bear. In either case, we should expect more from a President.
Consider Hillary’s cry right before her huge upset in New Hampshire. I happened to see it live, and while I thought it could turn out poorly for her, my initial reaction was one of support—Hillary needs more moments like those, I said to myself. Her huge victory in New Hampshire seemed to confirm this. On the day of the cry, most polls predicted a tight race with Obama slightly ahead. Twenty-four hours later, Clinton had won the state by two percentage points. Despite all this, her campaign completely ignored the good news. Clinton soldiered on. She was never so frank again.
Can you really blame her? For over fifteen years Hillary has been the victim of a vast, right-wing attack machine. What sane person, in her shoes, would be willing to reveal herself to the public? To open up her heart, even for a moment, like she did in New Hampshire? Even if, for a time, people embraced her? I can’t blame Hillary for being too guarded. She has every right to be. But in 2008, the last thing we need is a wounded warrior.
3 years ago • Notes