Republicans, we all know, do not know how to campaign --
which is why they lose elections. In the modern period, political jousting is
either murderous or feckless. Twitterdom is full of deadly thrusts unleavened
by humor, the opposite of wit.
Let’s suppose Republican gubernatorial hopeful Bob “the
re-builder” Stefanowski were Abe Lincoln, sans beard but with a similar sense
of humor. Someone at a political rally once accused Lincoln of being two-faced
– he was being rather subtle on the issue of slavery– at which point Lincoln stopped
his speech and shouted back, “If I had two faces, do you think I’d be wearing
this one?” The audience shivered with appreciative laughter, and laughter in
politics is better than votes because it engages the stomach muscles and the
thorax. Voting is a public duty most people choose to ignore, particularly in
our day of snake oil salesmen. But laughter cleanses the soul and shocks the
memory. Remembering a good joke is so much more pleasant than remembering a
humorless politician.
So then, here is Lincoln Stefanowski ruminating – from the
stump – on a recent Ned Lamont campaign rally in Hartford, Connecticut’s capital
city recently bailed out by the political money lenders under the gold-guilt
dome in Hartford:
“I see the Democrats
had a rally in Minuteman Park in Hartford. All the usual celebs were there,
minus Governor Dan Malloy, who’s in hiding. Democrats do not want the
infectious Malloy touching their campaigns. CTPost reported,
“[Democrat candidate for State Treasurer Shawn] Wooden produced an awkward moment during the rally when he introduced Lamont
as ‘Governor Malloy’ in an apparent slip of the tongue. Republicans continually
paint Lamont as an extension of the unpopular Democratic governor, while Lamont
emphasizes his differences from Malloy.” You see, at bottom – THEY KNOW – there
are no policy differences between Malloy and Ned Lamont, who I hear is a
wealthy businessman with only a smattering of political experience like… well,
never mind. The paper tells us that “Lamont, in his speech, emphasized that the
Democratic ticket represented ‘change.’” But Ned favors more taxes and tax
hand-outs to corpulent big businesses fleeing the state. All this sounds wearily
familiar: Lamont is the Malloy who wasn’t there. And the only real change that
can be expected of the man I called “Ned Malloy” is a sweep of change from
people’s pockets. My campaign offers real political change, and we won’t
assault your wallets or put a regulator under your bed to adjust the pictures in
your house.”
A close friend, Philip Clark, remembered well Lincoln’s 1846
campaign against Peter Cartwright. Lincoln “asked Cartwright if General
[Andrew] Jackson did right in the removal – I believe it was – of the bank
deposits. Cartwright evaded the question” – no big surprise there; it
happens all the time among politicians on the stump – “and gave a very indefinite answer.
Lincoln remarked that Cartwright reminded him of a hunter he once knew who
recognized the fact that in summer the deer were red and in winter gray, and at
one season therefore a deer might resemble a calf. The hunter had brought down
one at long range when it was hard to see the difference, and boasting of his
own marksmanship had said: ‘I shot at it so as to hit it if it was a deer and
miss it if it was a calf.’ This convulsed the audience, and carried them with
Lincoln.”
The pundits are telling us that the upcoming gubernatorial
campaign will be vicious though, one hopes, not quite a vicious as the John Adams-Thomas
Jefferson campaign of 1800. Students of history will recall that all the
elements of a modern campaign sprouted from this nursery bed.
Jefferson, it will be recalled, was Adams' Vice President. The
principals, Jefferson and Adams, were of course above campaigning; the slugfest
was run by associates. The Jefferson camp boldly asserted Adams was a
"hideous hermaphroditical character, which has neither the force and
firmness of a man, nor the gentleness and sensibility of a woman." The Adams
camp said Jefferson was “a mean-spirited, low-lived fellow, the son of a
half-breed Indian squaw, sired by a Virginia mulatto father." The two
contestants viewed the battle from afar. Jefferson was not
above hiring a hatchet man, James Callender,
a political pamphleteer and newspaper editor, to spread campaign muck,
while Adams considered himself above such low tactics. Callender proved
effective in convincing dupable Americans – presidents at the time were elected
through the Electoral College -- that Adams desperately wanted to attack France,
and Jefferson prevailed in the election.
Eventually, the free roving Callender turned against both Alexander Hamilton, whom he rightly accused of infidelity, and Jefferson, for having
produced children by one of his slaves. Callender eventually was undone by his
own bitterness and alcoholism. He was seen in drunken stupor in 1803, and later
his body was recovered from the James River.
More Lincoln and less Callender would better suit the temperament
of non-twittering voters in Connecticut.
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