Endorsements

Originally published in the Valley News on December 19, 2007

It is entirely possible that at age 71, Sen. John McCain of Arizona is now making his last stand in presidential politics. That almost certainly will be the case unless New Hampshire Republicans rally to his cause in the Jan. 8 primary. We hope that they do, not only because McCain's life reflects the highest ideals of service to the nation, but also because he represents the best hope to liberate a party that is being held hostage to its own worst instincts.

McCain is by no means a perfect candidate, or, as he is the first to admit, a man without flaws. We disagree with him on several fundamental issues, including his longstanding opposition to abortion rights. Nevertheless, the case for McCain is a strong one: Duty and honor are to him living imperatives forged in family tradition, not mere rhetorical flourishes calibrated to the exigencies of the campaign trail. He should be just the ticket for Republicans astonished and appalled that, during the Bush years, their party has become identified with a brand of evangelical, anti-immigrant, big-government, borrow-and-spend "conservatism" that is antithetical to its best traditions.

The senator's current struggles in the polls are probably largely the result of his continuing support for the unpopular war in Iraq. It must be noted, however, that McCain's judgment in this matter has been vindicated in several important respects. He warned early on about the dangers of trying to fight a war on the cheap, with too few troops and without a comprehensive plan for victory. He was among the first to call for the sacking of Donald Rumsfeld, one of the chief architects of the fiasco. And he also, almost alone, was a vigorous champion of the troop-surge strategy eventually adopted by President Bush, which almost certainly has improved the security situation in Iraq, despite a lack of accompanying progress toward political reconciliation.

And although we do not agree with McCain's thesis that prompt withdrawal of American troops from Iraq would necessarily have dire consequences throughout the Middle East and the world, we do not dismiss it lightly, either. His case is plausible, and his credentials in national security matters impeccable.

McCain, of course, is literally battle-tested. He springs from a distinguished line of admirals and himself served with distinction as a Navy pilot during the Vietnam War, when he was shot down over North Vietnam and held as a prisoner of war for five and a half years. His stubborn defiance while being tortured by his captors is the stuff of legend. But just as heroic, we think, is his principled stand against the use of torture by the United States against detainees in the war on terrorism. He alone among the major Republican candidates seems to understand that failure to adhere to civilized standards of conduct during war not only puts our own servicemen and -women in jeopardy in the future, but also grievously wounds America's moral standing in the world.

Nor do we assume that a McCain presidency would necessarily be bellicose because of his military background. It is often the case that leaders who have themselves served in the armed forces have a fuller appreciation of just what committing troops to combat entails than do those who feel the need to demonstrate their toughness. It ought to be noted that McCain has a son now serving with the Marines in Iraq and another soon to graduate from the Naval Academy. It is difficult to credit the notion that he would be reckless with their lives or put them in harm's way without a compelling reason to do so.

There are other reasons to prefer McCain to the rest of the Republican field. He not so respectfully declines to pander to party orthodoxy on several important matters. He understands that sealing the borders is not a substitute for rational immigration reform; he disdains pork-barrel spending and the lobbyists who corrupt the public purpose; he remains a small-government Republican and a fiscal hawk; he does not regard the dangers of climate change as mumbo-jumbo cooked up by liberals; he champions campaign-finance reform.

Yes, by all accounts he has a short fuse. His candor can border on simple meanness. He would be the oldest man ever elected to the presidency if he were to prevail next November. But those flaws may be kept in perspective when his main competition for the Republican nomination comes from the likes of Mitt Romney, who combines a justifiable claim to executive competence with opportunistic serial flip-flopping; and Rudy Giuliani, whose life work in recent years has largely been to wring political advantage out of his response to the 9/11 attacks. As for Mike Huckabee, well, it is perhaps enough to say that he's no John McCain.

Originally published in the Valley News on December 20, 2007

Of all the contenders for the Democratic presidential nomination, only Sen. Barack Obama seems intent on restoring a measure of common sense to the political discourse. He recognizes a simple but powerful truth: that people must come together around the shared values that define the American democratic experience. The message sounds fresh, even transcendent, because for too long the ugly politics of division have cast a pall on government and alienated voters. We think Obama has the sound character, intuitive understanding and charismatic leadership to break old patterns and unify the country.

Too few people, let alone politicians, talk anymore about the commonweal. But Obama does, insistently. As a little-known Illinois state senator at the 2004 Democratic National Convention, he stood on the podium before a pumped-up crowd and challenged America to think differently: "There's not a liberal America and a conservative America — there's the United States of America," he said. "There's not a black America and white America and Latino America and Asian America — there's the United States of America." The speech, a personal and direct appeal for national unity, was one of the finest examples of political oratory in many years, and it helped to propel Obama onto the national stage.

Having served barely three years in the U.S. Senate, Obama's bid for the Democratic presidential nomination is audacious. But then audacity is the 46-year-old senator's stock in trade. In his political memoir, The Audacity of Hope, he confesses to a certain restlessness — both for himself and for the nation. The vast majority of Americans, he points out, are weary of the dead zone that politics has become. It's time to think and act boldly, to transform a nation long paralyzed by partisanship and prone to ideological rift.

Obama melds political philosophy and personal history, to good effect. The son of a white woman from Kansas and a black man from Kenya, Obama looks beyond racial and geopolitical divides. His upbringing in Hawaii and Indonesia, as well as his quest as an adult to discover more about his absent African father, naturally informs his global worldview.

A compelling biography, however, is not enough to lead a country. The rap against Obama is that he lacks sufficient experience for the presidency despite an impressive intellect honed at Columbia University and Harvard Law School, where he became the first African-American to edit the law review. While it may be true that he lacks some of the conventional qualifications that have led politicians to the White House, it's also true that some of America's finest presidents — Abraham Lincoln, Woodrow Wilson — did not sharpen their skills long in Washington before taking the oath of office. More to the point, the experience Obama does have should not be dismissed. His work as a community organizer, civil rights lawyer and law professor, in addition to state politician, surely taught him as much if not more about the lives of ordinary Americans than a prestigious posting on Capitol Hill. His time in Chicago's South Side offered him an intimate view of people struggling with the country's most vexing social problem — poverty.

Part of Obama's appeal is that he doesn't claim to have all the answers. On the other hand, when he's right, he isn't afraid to speak his mind to the constituencies that least want to hear it. He traveled to Detroit and told the automakers to make more fuel-efficient cars, a suggestion that Ford Motor Co. didn't take too kindly. And he wasn't exactly pandering to teachers when he endorsed merit pay at a meeting of the National Education Association. He's also taken on the lobbyists, helping to write a reform law earlier this year. Like his Democratic rivals, he offers a progressive domestic agenda, including more affordable health care, which would help the working poor and middle class regain equilibrium in a country where the inequality of incomes threatens the social fabric.

Obama has not wavered in his opposition to the Iraq war and would draw down combat troops. But that is not to say he's an isolationist or opposed to a just war. To the contrary, he knows that stability in the Middle East must be part of a U.S. strategy to defeat terrorism and that a strong military is essential to national security. He recognizes the absolute necessity to reduce the threat posed by nuclear proliferation; he is the co-author of a law that aims to reduce stockpiles of conventional weapons and to help other nations detect and interdict weapons of mass destruction.

Ultimately, though, the case for Obama is not just what he proposes to do but how he proposes to do it. Voters who doubt Obama's leadership skills need only look at his well-run primary campaign, which has taken on the Hillary Clinton juggernaut. Clinton is a formidable candidate — knowledgeable on the issues, a sharp debater, tenacious. She is more polished and more practiced than Obama. But she is less candid and less likely to create the working majority needed to govern effectively. She describes herself as battle-hardened, the candidate most able to beat back the Republicans. But that's precisely the problem: She is an armored warrior in a country weary of partisan and cultural warfare; Obama wears no armor. He seeks reconciliation — at home and abroad — and steps forward, ready to speak a language of common understanding.