The best that I can come up with in explaining what we see in the news is the idea that those Clinton supporters are the extremists, or perhaps the almost-extremists (the real extremists are the ones who, Scaife-like, claim that Obama was a drug-addicted murderer), and that most ardent Hillary supporters are not like the ones we usually see put forth in the media.
At the office where I work is a woman who fits the profile of a strong Hillary supporter–and older woman, a Democrat, a feminist and member of the civil rights generation. I asked her how she felt about the election. Her answer was instructive; not that I understood it fully, but it gave me a better idea of how some Hillary supporters feel.
Her primary reaction was anger at Obama. She surprised me by saying that the anger was for Obama just running against Hillary in the first place. But not for the reasons you might assume. My own thinking had been that Hillary supporters were angry at some slight they imagined coming from the Obama camp, but that wasn’t it. It was the idea that Obama is an upstart, an underachiever with little more than charisma, who has come to a race that was Hillary’s to win. Not that she was entitled because she is a woman, but rather because she had worked for so hard and for so long, and deserved the candidacy because of all that she had done, all the advancements she had fought for so hard. Furthermore, she is an icon of her generation, a representative of sorts for all the people who, like her, fought for civil rights, for women’s rights, and for the ideals of the party. This was to be Hillary’s time, her reward for all that she had worked for in her life–and this unknown guy just walked up and snatched it away from her with some smooth talk and a well-oiled campaign machine.
So the idea of Hillary’s entitlement was not one of “she’s a woman, so she’s entitled,” though for many that probably is an important component. It was not even so much that it was Hillary’s “turn”; the idea is that if someone else had worked harder and longer–or even if it were more close–it would not have been so much of a disappointment that Hillary lost. But Obama is a brand-new face, someone just out of state legislature, who hasn’t paid his dues or gained the necessary understandings or perspectives. He hadn’t sweat much for the party, but claimed the title nonetheless.
To my friend, it was like someone working hard and diligently in an office setting for decades, striving to reach a top management position; after so many years of labor and sacrifice, the position was almost in reach–only to have some new guy with charisma swoop in and get awarded the position because everybody liked him so much. That it was a man taking it from a woman is probably an added sting to the general insult. While my friend insisted that this was not about Hillary being a woman, I find it hard to shake the idea that this is not an important component, at least for many women.
Now, I say that I understand this a bit better than before, having heard this explained to me by someone I know and respect. But I do not understand it fully. True, in an office situation, I would join in the outrage; were Hillary such a worker and some upstart came in and took the position just like that, I would be crying foul just the same. The thing is, I never saw political nominating processes as being like that. My friend asked, “why shouldn’t they be?” and I had no good immediate answer. All I can say is, “because they’re not.” Politics simply doesn’t work that way. Had it been, Bill Clinton would not have won over George H. W. Bush. Fine, you might say–inter-party you can’t expect that, but what about intra-party? Well, again, there were others more qualified–Jerry Brown had political positions for a longer time than Clinton had, in a more important state, and had championed Democratic principles, the environment in particular, certainly much more than Clinton had. Yet Clinton blew past Brown. In 1988, Dick Gephardt had more experience than Michael Dukakis, and Jesse Jackson has more civil rights and general liberal credentials than Dukakis.
None of these cases are as striking a contrast as Obama and Clinton, but I think that a case can be made. Though perhaps the counter-argument would be, it wasn’t fair in those cases, either–and perhaps not. But my point would be that, for better or worse, the party does not entitle a candidate for service or seniority. These help, but they are not deciders.
The key point: this is not an appointment, it is an election. Potentially lesser candidates do not simply step aside out of respect for seniority or service. They run campaigns, and voters vote for them. The idea is to find the person who runs the best campaign, who appeals to the party members the most, who represents that ideas and the character of the party voters, and who stands the best chance of winning for the party, based on a wide range of variables, experience and service being just a few.
In an election, the millions of members of the party decide, based at least in part on who is capable of putting up a better fight. If it were even mostly about seniority and service, then there would be no need for an election–those properties would simply choose the candidate–but they do not. And though Hillary supporters say she put on a better campaign, the fact is that Obama won the fight–despite getting more negative media coverage, at that. The point is, this is not the way an office chooses a leader–that is not up to a vote, it is decided by a calculus where seniority and service do matter. An election simply is not like that.
And if your candidate loses the election, you are disappointed, but you understand that this is how it works; you don’t get bitter and divisive, you just forge ahead under the new banner. That’s why I don’t understand the anger; had my guy been the one with more experience, serving the party over a lifetime, and had been unseated by an upstart with charisma, I would have been disappointed, maybe even upset that my party made the wrong choice–but I would not be angry.
Even with this explanation from my friend, although I have a bit of a better understanding of the underpinnings of the resentment against Obama, I still do not fathom the intensity of the anger involved. My friend suggests that this is because I am not of that generation, I do not see things from that perspective. Maybe so.
Near the end of our conversation, my friend insisted that sexism hurt Hillary more than racism did Obama, and we could have debated the point, but I was not there to debate and it was late to boot–neither of us wanted to get into that right there. You have heard my reasoning on this before.
My friend will vote for Obama in November–no way she’s voting for McCain. I know that she’ll genuinely fight for Obama to win. But she’ll still be angry. And I’ll want to understand that better.