
Triumphant: Ali over Liston. Bettmann-Corbis
In his Senate office, on a wall near his desk, Barack Obama has a
framed copy of a famous boxing picture. It is of young Muhammad Ali
standing in triumph over the prostrate hulk of the aging Sonny Liston.
Ali has just leveled the supposedly fearsome champ. Ali is shouting,
exulting in his conquest.
Well, I know Ali a bit--have shaken his mammoth hand, chatted with
him and been around him in my second hometown of Louisville. I watched
him fight. He liked to say that he floated like a butterfly and stung
like a bee. It was more like a whole swarm.
So, I know Ali and senator: you are no Ali.
For whatever reason (I think there are several, personal and
strategic), you either don’t know how to or can’t be a closer. You
can’t finish with the kind of flurry that drops your foe to the canvas.
You didn’t do it to Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton and, at least Friday
night here at Ole Miss, you didn’t do it to Sen. John McCain.
But here’s the question: Is a devastating puncher who we want in a president? Is that who we want in our next president?
Well, maybe not. Maybe we’ve had enough pugnacity for a while. Maybe
George W. Bush and Dick Cheney have given pugnacity a bad name. Maybe
voters want a more peaceable style. Maybe right now they want an open
hand, not another closed fist.
That’s the only reason I can think of why most of my colleagues
(and, apparently, judging from the instant polls of viewers) decided
that Obama had “won’” the debate here in Oxford.
On debating points--and if campaigns are boxing--McCain won. He was
the sneering aggressor. He had Obama backpedaling for much of the night
on foreign policy. Obama, for his part, missed several chances to
counterattack, especially on the economy. Obama’s answers were strewn
with annoying “ums” and “ahs” as he played for time to calibrate the
least-damaging response.
Note to colleagues on the White House beat, especially any of you
who are (sub-consciously perhaps) cheerleading for Obama: I predict
that you are going to come to hate his press conferences; they are
going to make you hunger for sound bites.
But maybe: so what? Maybe boxing is the wrong metaphor. Maybe voters
are fed up with leaders who start wars without studying the possible
consequences. Maybe voters are tired of the kind of presidency that
blows off Congress and its critics as unpatriotic. Maybe voters are
tired of my-way-or-the-highway thinking.
Surely, this is Obama’s own calculation. His operative metaphor
isn’t boxing, but bodysurfing. He is the product of Hawaii, where they
learn to wait for and ride the wave. He thinks he is riding the Big
Curl now: a new generation, a new demographic, a new global framework
at a time when voters urgently want “change” and Obama, by default, is
the only one who plausibly can provide it.
Maybe that explains why Obama had openings in the debate and didn’t
take them. The economy is the best example. Yes, I know: McCain did not
use the words “middle class” and he sometimes got lost in beltway
jargon about earmarks and “the DOD.”
But Obama could have leveled him. All he had to do was keep
mentioning Bush, especially now. Leave it to our callow president to
use cringe-inducing frat-house lingo to summarize our dire economic
predicament. If there is no bailout of the mortgage-credit markets, he
said the other day, “this sucker is going down.”
Obama didn’t mention this. Did he need to bother? I guess not.
He was content, also, to let McCain natter on about all the places
he had been and all the world leaders he had met. At one point, McCain
noted that no one--even Alexander the Great--had been able to conquer
Afghanistan. I half expected the senator to brag about the meeting he
had had with Alexander himself. It would have been a funny line.
Obama was secure, if not serene, in the knowledge that the more
McCain talked, the more he was talking about the past--and that he,
Obama, was by his very being a representative of the future. McCain was
winning battles in a war that seems to have ended.
Also, Obama was being graded on a curve. McCain spoke more sharply,
bluntly, and, for most of the night, more effectively. But that
mattered less than whether there was a “game-changer.” Because there
was not, and because Obama is ahead in the polls, you have to
ultimately score Ole Miss as a miss for McCain.
And here in Mississippi, they know something about game changers. It
was called the Civil War. More than two thirds of the Mississippi men
who went off to fight in it died or were wounded. The numbers from the
Battle of Vicksburg alone are stunning: 10,000 dead or injured in one
decisive, disastrous battle.
There was no Vicksburg-like wipeout here at the first presidential
debate, on the woodsy campus of the University of Mississippi. By that
measure, Obama, fighting most of the night on McCain’s turf, did enough
not to lose--which means that he did enough to “win.”