Oral Exam, Part II

Day Two: George Bush, Fred Thompson and Joe Lieberman
Posted 12:30 a.m. ET, Sept. 3

MICHAEL GERSON
Arriving earlier today at the Republican convention, I was reminded how cruel is the passage of time in the political world.  Four years ago, I stayed at a suite at the Waldorf; this afternoon I taxied between hotels in search of a misplaced reservation.  At the Xcel Energy Center, I was escorted to my nosebleed, "special press" seat with a close view of the acoustical tiles on the ceiling, and a distant view of every speaker's backside.

On the first real night of the Republican convention, the speakers were varied, to say the least.  Mrs. Bush, with perfect appropriateness, talked about her husband, laying special emphasis on his historic AIDS and malaria initiatives (topics close to my heart).  President Bush, with perfect appropriateness, talked about the nominee.  It was a memorable line to say that McCain has the "heart of a protector."  And with mock exasperation about McCain's independence, the president generously gave McCain permission to emphasize his disagreements with the administration. Apart from the brief mention of the "sunny side of the mountain"—reprise from his own first convention speech—Bush was unsentimental. I noticed he spared few words for Sarah Palin, but those duties seemed to fall to Mrs. Bush, who was warm about the vice presidential nominee.

Sen. Joe Lieberman hardly gave a barnburner, but he has never been a speaker prone to lighting farm buildings. It is not easy to deliver an attack on partisanship at the most partisan event of the political season. And he might have been more effective talking simply and personally about his friend John. But Lieberman—who seems so pleased when he delivers an applause line—is impossible to dislike. And he made one innovative and serious argument—comparing Bill Clinton's willingness to oppose his own party on trade, welfare reform and the budget with Obama's complete lack of courage in this department. 

The speech of the night was given by Fred Thompson, who will never be president, but should play one on TV. He is an enormously effective storyteller, weaving humor and moments of quiet intensity. And McCain has a story worth telling—a story of broken bones and rope torture and solitary confinement and defiance still shocking in its courage. Some personal stories get smaller the closer you approach. McCain's story gets larger. Thompson gave a narrative to McCain's life—a "mixture of rebellion and honor"—that made sense of McCain's entire career. And it was a strong relaunch for a Republican message drowned out, to this point, by high winds and soap operas.

MICHAEL WALDMAN
John McCain has an interesting and potentially powerful argument—the argument for reform.  The 19 percent of the voters who cast their ballots for Ross Perot in 1992 remains a decisive swing bloc in American politics, never fully absorbed by either party. The argument is that Obama's "change" is really just a swing to the left; McCain's change is government reform, far more appealing to the "radical center."
 
Tonight was a tepid and downright weird launch to that daring argument.  
 
First, the stilted and depressing Max Headroom video from the president of the United States. ("His arms had been broken, but not his honor," followed by a sarcastic little smile.)  Since presidents began going to conventions in 1932, only once—once—has an incumbent president been too unpopular to appear at his own party's gathering: Lyndon Johnson in 1968. (FDR didn't go in 1944 because he was on a "nonpolitical" fact-finding tour; he had an angina attack while phoning in his remarks.) Until now. The idea that George W. Bush is too busy to speak at the convention, or that the planners couldn't figure out a way to squeeze him in, is transparently absurd. It must be a deep humiliation for him. The Obama convention's gibes about McCain representing four years of Bush must really have hit home. (P.S., how could he give a political speech from the White House? When I worked for Bill Clinton, we would have faced a special prosecutor for that.)
 
Then the neutering of the moderates. We know, from reporting, that Tom Ridge  and Joe Lieberman were McCain's preferred choices for vice president, but were blocked solely because they are pro-choice. Now Rudy Giuliani (who won one delegate) apparently was replaced as keynote speaker in favor of Fred Thompson (who won none). Thompson gave a rambling, folksy, effective and instantly forgettable paean to McCain. 
 
Joe Lieberman was far more effective.  His most memorable statement was simply being there. Unlike Zell Miller in 2004, there was little anger and no visible spittle. He faintly praised Obama as an eloquent young man, and spoke directly to Democrats who are uncomfortable with their candidate. Casual viewers remember him as Al Gore's running mate; they don't know just how deeply estranged he is from his fellow party members. He praised McCain for taking on "corrupt Republican lobbyists," for being a senator respected by foreign leaders. He said you can count on McCain to be a "restless reformer." It was mostly focused on burnishing McCain's persona (rather than, say, policy issues such as campaign-finance reform).