Before Biden’s basement, there was Mckinley’s front porch
Like a hibernating animal creeping from its lair in spring, Joe Biden is popping out of his basement more and more.
The COVID-19 quarantine proved a godsend for the gaffeprone Democratic standardbearer. It gave him an excuse to hunker down at home and control his messaging.
But with Election Day now six weeks off, he can’t afford to stay in America’s most celebrated subterranean sanctuary much longer. Which is why we’re seeing him on the campaign trail more often.
While 2020’s crazy campaign twists may feel unprecedented, there’s nothing new about a candidate using their homes to political advantage. For several, it helped them trade up to that big white mansion in Washington.
In the republic’s early years it was thought unseemly for would-be presidents to seek the job. The presidency was considered a gift awarded by the people, not a prize to win in competition.
But presidential candidates are often masterful politicians. Many, including Abraham Lincoln, James Garfield and Benjamin Harrison, waged winning campaigns from the privacy of their home.
However, it took a lackluster Civil War veteran to turn it into an art form.
A former Union army major, congressman, and Ohio governor, William Mckinley became the Republican nominee in 1896. He was the kind of drab guy you’d meet at a Rotary meeting.
His Democratic opponent was William Jennings Bryan. And that posed a serious problem for the GOP.
Bryan was a silver-tongued orator who could charm birds out of the trees with his flowery speaking. In fact, the former congressman and failed Senate candidate from Nebraska unexpectedly won the nomination after delivering his “Cross of Gold Speech” at the Democratic convention, considered one of the most remarkable pieces of oratory in political history.
Bryan promised to deliver more of it — lots more. Nicknamed the “Boy Orator of the Platte” (he was only 36), Bryan scrapped precedent and took his act on the road. Roaring into the campaign with youthful enthusiasm, he addressed big city crowds and clumps of people at country crossroads while racing around the country in a frenzy.
He was a populist who wanted to scrap the gold standard and make big corporations pay higher taxes; a Victorian Bernie Sanders, if you will.
Mckinley’s campaign manager leapt into action in response. Mark Hanna was a no-nonsense millionaire who relished playing political hardball. Think of him as Karl Rove in a frock coat. He developed a two-prong strategy to elect Mckinley.
First, Hanna shook down corporate CEOS for big bucks. They didn’t need much persuading. Terrifying by the financial hit they would take if Bryan won, money was showered on Mckinley’s campaign in record-setting levels. Hanna spread it around lavishly, widely, and wisely.
He also had Mckinley stay home in Canton, Ohio, which the candidate eagerly agreed to do.