by Steve Kornacki on October 2, 2008
If she lives up the ditzy Tiny Fey caricature that has come to define her, Palin will complete a five-week transformation from political sensation to liability, severely complicating John McCain’s effort to win over swing voters and erase Barack Obama’s slight but steady lead. But if she somehow defies the low expectations – maybe with a brilliant, pre-rehearsed one-liner, or perhaps by baiting Joe Biden into an impolitic remark or two – she could ease one of the prime reservations that those same swing voters have about voting for McCain.
But much more is at stake for Palin than just next month’s election. When McCain plucked her from Wasilla at the end of August and turned her into a political celebrity, Palin instantly became – like all vice presidential nominees – a future presidential prospect. For the remaining 68 days of the campaign, the spotlight would be hers, a chance to prove that she belonged on the national stage and to build her own army for a future campaign of her own.
Initially, she was a smash hit. Among the Republican Party’s conservative base, she was greeted as a dream come true – a exceptionally attractive and authentically conservative small-town woman who loves hunting, hates abortion and isn’t afraid to choose sides in the “culture war.” No other VP selection by McCain would have had even a fraction of Palin’s energizing effect on the ticket and the party. And when the McCain campaign expertly framed the press’ inevitable questions about her preparation for national office as a concerted attack by “the liberal media,” it only cemented Palin’s heroine status on the right.
More importantly, Palin was at first received warmly by independent voters, who were intrigued by the unorthodox nature of her selection and taken by her mesmerizing address to the Republican National Convention (a speech that scored nearly as many viewers as Barack Obama’s did at the Democratic convention). Democrats frantically talked up her thin résumé and a host of controversies from her political career in Alaska, but her command performance in St. Paul essentially won Palin the benefit of the doubt. Polls even showed most independents buying into the McCain campaign’s line that the media had unduly singled out the G.O.P.’s VP nominee for scrutiny, and by early September, the McCain-Palin ticket had opened leads in all of the major national polls.
At that point, Palin’s long-term political prospects looked bright. Suddenly plausible, a McCain victory would certify her as the heir apparent for the next open G.O.P. nomination, allowing her to use the vice presidency (as Al Gore, George H. W. Bush and Walter Mondale all did) to build credibility as a national leader and to amass IOU’s within her party. But a McCain defeat wouldn’t hurt her, either: The abiding adoration of conservatives coupled with her popularity among independents would give Palin a broad coalition heading into 2012 – one capable of winning in both activist-dominated caucus states and in primaries with broader, less ideologically rigid electorates.
That was last month. In the weeks since, Palin’s star has faded considerably, mainly among independents but also with some conservatives. It’s easy to blame the McCain campaign’s strategy of walling her off from just about every media outlet, but that may simply be a symptom of a larger problem with the candidate herself. Because in the few formal interviews that Palin (through her handlers) has consented to, she has appeared alarmingly unfamiliar with basic matters of policy – and thoroughly incapable of faking it. The result has been a series of widely circulated, cringe-inducing clips that have affirmed every doubt that Democrats have been trying to raise about Palin – and, by extension, McCain’s judgment in picking her – since she joined the ticket.
Kathleen Parker, a conservative writer who initially praised Palin’s selection, wrote this week that “Palin’s recent interviews with Charles Gibson, Sean Hannity, and now Katie Couric have all revealed an attractive, earnest, confident candidate. Who Is Clearly Out Of Her League.”
“I think she has pretty thoroughly – and probably irretrievably – proven that she is not up to the job of being President of the United States,” David Frum, another conservative, told The New York Times.
Sure, Palin still has her defenders, but now they are all on the right, not in the middle. Public opinion has shifted against her, and polls now show that a majority of voters don’t believe she’s qualified for national office.
This has dramatically altered her post-2008 political prospects – and changed the dynamics of the (for now) underground race for the next open Republican nomination.
Before Palin’s selection, the clear front-runner for the next G.O.P. nomination was Mitt Romney, who didn’t so much drop out of this year’s race as suspend his campaign until after the November election. Romney aggressively pursued McCain’s running-mate slot, believing that it would cement his already strong claim to the “next in line” mantle – a powerful tool in a party that has a habit of anointing its heir apparent years before the primary campaign. Romney enjoyed solid support from the party base and had potential appeal to moderates and independents – and, best of all, had time to improve his standing among all of those groups before the next go-round. A National Journal Republican “insiders” poll at the G.O.P. convention – conducted before Palin-mania took hold – confirmed that Romney was the runaway favorite for the '12 nod.
Palin threatened all of that. Because of his Mormonism and his suspicious conversion from Massachusetts social liberal to fire-breathing social conservative, expanding his support among the G.O.P. base for 2012 was going to be a project for Romney. Aided by the stamp of inevitability, though, he’d be able to do it. But Palin, a fundamentalist Christian without a trace of liberalism in her background, is a natural fit with these same voters. With the celebrity she accrued as this year’s VP nominee, she seemed poised to deny Romney the “clear front-runner” label heading into 2012 – thus preventing him for corralling the right ahead of time.
Plus, the initial support Palin received from independents suggested that she’d be able to avoid being pigeonholed as a candidate of the Christian right. The same independent and moderate voters who Romney can potentially appeal to were, it seemed, potential Palin backers as well.
Not so anymore. Palin’s awful performance these past few weeks has ruined those early inroads with middle-of-the-road voters and eaten into her support on the right. Instead of looming over the 2012 race as a threat to Romney, she now seems like a more natural rival to Mike Huckabee, who enjoys a committed following on the right but faces a clear ceiling because he’s been defined as a niche candidate. Palin remains a credible candidate for 2012 – anyone with her name recognition would be – but at this point, she would be a second-tier candidate.
Which brings us to her debate with Biden, the best – and likely only – chance between now and Election Day for Palin to earn a second look from the independents who have abandoned her. Conventional wisdom says she’s not up to the task. After all, if simple questions from Charlie Gibson and Katie Couric flustered her, how could she possibly field the more-pointed queries of a formal debate? But it’s worth remembering that Palin is, under the right circumstances, a capable public performer, and a charming woman who honed her communication skills as a television anchor early in her career.
A home run on Thursday may or may not be enough to save McCain this year – but it would go a long way toward making Sarah Palin a serious player the next time her party needs a presidential candidate.