Is America Ready?

But the voters' fear of an unwelcome blast from the past remains. "It's a subliminal thing," says another friend, also insisting that he not be named. "People don't want to be dragged back into their marriage when we're in a major crisis. People believe the right wing is loading up the cannons in anticipation, and even if what they have is not true, it will be printed, rebutted and will distract."

The former president will campaign separately from his wife across the country, almost as if he's a vice presidential candidate. This will multiply their impact, but it also avoids the direct side-by-side comparison that hurts Hillary, as it did when both spoke at the funeral of Coretta Scott King. Friends predict she will take speaking lessons (as he did some years ago) so that her speeches are less like policy-wonk laundry lists. They also believe she needs to show her sense of humor more in public, but in a way that's self-deprecating, not the sometimes sarcastic wit she wields in private.

It's hard to assess the strength of anti-Hillary sentiment in the country. Her advisers point to her huge re-election victory in New York, where she crushed her Palookaville opponent among independents and even scored well with Republicans, sweeping all but four counties. The national polls sponsored by "Hillaryland" (as her universe is known) are similarly encouraging. But the gap between what voters say they would do and how they think their neighbors would react raises suspicions. "It makes me think these polls are phony as hell," says former representative Pat Schroeder, who abandoned a possible presidential campaign in 1988. "There's a hard core out there who won't vote for a woman."

Or perhaps just not for Hillary. A recent Marist Poll showed that 47 percent of respondents nationwide "definitely will not consider" voting for her, a percentage that alarms some former aides to President Clinton. Those numbers will need to change for Democratic primary voters--now comfortable with assessing electability--to move her way.

A sobering message for Obama is the example of Tennessee Rep. Harold Ford Jr. in the 2006 midterms. Ford ran a strong campaign for the Senate, but he lost by three points to Republican Bob Corker. The GOP sponsored an ad featuring a blonde cooing, "Call me, Harold," in reference to Ford's appearance at a Super Bowl party for Playboy. Ford's bachelorhood gave the Republicans the opening they needed to push age-old racist fears of miscegenation, but if that commercial hadn't worked, they would likely have found something else with racial overtones. (The producer of the ad now works for John McCain.)

As it was, a second, lesser-known attack ad was more troubling to Ford and could be used someday against Obama, too. It showed Ford in a church as the narrator tags Ford as a hypocrite on religious values. Then there was Ford's decision to ambush Corker in a parking lot. It may be that black candidates seeking white votes have less room than other politicians to go on the attack. That could leave Obama trapped between his positive tone and the need to be tough. If he loses his temper in the process, it might prove fatal politically. The margin for error for a rookie is small.