Sunday Times (Sri Lanka)

You go to war with the Hillary Clinton you have

She may not be an inspiratio­nal candidate, but her job now is to persuade voters that she's the last best hope against Trump

- By David Corn

When Bill Clinton spoke to the Democratic convention on Tuesday night, he warmly recalled the time in 1985 when Hillary Clinton learned about a preschool programme in Israel that taught low-income mothers how to become the first teachers for their children and then introduced it in Arkansas. When Joe Biden was at the podium, he declared, "Hillary understood that for years, millions of people went to bed staring at the ceiling thinking, 'Oh my God, what if I get breast cancer or he has a heart attack? I will lose everything. What will we do then?'"

Tim Kaine on Wednesday night pointed out that Clinton had fought "to get health insurance for 8 million low-income children when she was first lady." He added, "When you want to know something about the character of somebody in public life, look to see if they have a passion that began long before they were in office, and that they have consistent­ly held it throughout their career." And President Barack Obama, in a rip-roaring stem-winder, asserted, "Hillary's still got the tenacity that she had as a young woman working at the Children's Defense Fund, going door to door to ultimately make sure kids with disabiliti­es could get a quality education."

With Hillary Clinton's disapprova­l ratings nearly as high as Donald Trump's record-setting numbers, the message of the Democratic gathering in Philadelph­ia this week has been www. sundaytime­s. lk simple: She is better than you think, whether you're a Republican predispose­d to dislike a Democrat but now concerned about Donald Trump or a Bernie Sanders supporter who views Hillary Clinton as the flag carrier for a corrupt corporatis­t elite. Bill Clinton even acknowledg­ed that his wife, thanks to her detractors, has become a "cartoon" for many. He added, "Cartoons are two-dimensiona­l. They're easy to absorb. Life in the world is complicate­d."

And so is Hillary Clinton. She is a onetime former McGovern Democrat who voted to let George W. Bush launch the Iraq War. She did help create a health insurance programme for millions of low-income children in the 1990s but also supported welfare reform that progressiv­e social policy experts decried. She has denounced big-money politics and called for overturnin­g Citizens United but pocketed personal and campaign funds from Goldman Sachs and other Wall Street interests. She has resolutely stood up to false charges from her say-anything foes regarding the tragic Benghazi attack, but she did screw up with the emails. She can be highly competent and also possess tremendous blind spots. She knows policy and campaigns awkwardly. The Clinton White House years were marked by her unsuccessf­ul but well-intentione­d effort to achieve national health insurance, her husband's fight to beat back draconian GOP cuts in Medicare, Medicaid, environmen­tal and education funding, and assorted controvers­ies, some real (her cattle futures trading, last-minute pardons, the Lewinsky affair) and some trumped up (Travelgate, Filegate, Vince Foster's death). She has long supported progressiv­e causes (abortion rights, affordable child care, LGBT rights, family leave, immigratio­n reform, women's rights, gun safety, climate change) but was a partner in her husband's ideologica­l triangulat­ion and, more recently, has been less than steady in opposing the proposed TPP trade deal. It's no wonder that one leitmotif of the Dems' week in Philadelph­ia was the difficulty many Sanders delegates have coming to terms with Clinton as the Democratic nominee.

As the convention managers and leaders of the Clinton campaign pushed a message of party unity in celebratio­n of the first woman to win a major party's nomination—and Sen. Bernie Sanders joined in by declaring in his prime-time speech that it was essential to support Clinton and that she would make an "outstandin­g" president—a large chunk of Sanders delegates noted they were not ready for her. Though the Sanders campaign had achieved so much more than past within-the-party insurgenci­es (Jesse Jackson in 1984 and 1988, Jerry Brown in 1992) by winning significan­t victories during the party platform and rules deliberati­ons, many Sanders delegates during the week focused on grievances and slights: the leaked Democratic National Committee emails that showed (no shocker) that some Democratic staffers were not Sanders fans; the Clinton campaign's embrace of Debbie Wasserman Schultz after she resigned as party chairman; the convention managers preventing a prominent Sanders supporter from speaking from the stage. Rather than celebrate their triumphs, many Sanders delegates groused repeatedly that the Clinton campaign had not reached out to them. They openly rejected Sanders' instructio­n to refrain from protests during the convention proceeding­s and to embrace Clinton in the crusade against Trump.

Throughout the week, numerous Sanders delegates said, "I'm not there yet." They insisted it was still up to Clinton, whom some dismissed as a "neoliberal hawk" and phony progressiv­e, to win them over and to convince them she would stick to her opposition to the TPP (the policy issue that most engaged Sanders delegates). They voiced disappoint­ment that Clinton had not adopted the Sanders position on fracking, single-payer Medicare for all, and Middle East policy.

Norman Solomon, a Sanders delegate and coordinato­r of the Bernie Delegates Network (which is not affiliated with the Sanders campaign), complained that the convention was full of "cheerleadi­ng for war." Chuck Pennacchio, a Sanders delegate from Pennsylvan­ia, warned that Sanders delegates were not content to "hand the ball" to Clinton. He added, "Clinton and her surrogates need to get out in the field and say [to Sanders supporters], 'I really want to hear you.' And that has not happened." He griped, "When I talk to the Hillary people, they say, 'Get over yourself.'"

Older Sanders delegates rou- tinely noted that the millennial­s who had boarded the Bernie Express as volunteers and delegates needed more time to process their defeat and that they had to be courted by Clinton. A senior Sanders strategist insisted that Clinton had to accept the responsibi­lity of engaging with this group via texts, tweets, and videos.

Hillary's still got the tenacity that she had as a young woman working at the Children's Defense Fund, going door to door to ultimately make sure kids with disabiliti­es could get a quality education

"There is a lot of mistrust among our young Bernie voters about how the process was conducted," said Donna Smith, the executive director of Progressiv­e Democrats of America and a Sanders advocate. "To think young people would make a pivot in four days is not very realistic…It is not a given that people will hold their nose and vote for her." On the last night, many not-there-yet Sanders delegates attended the convention wearing yellow T-shirts emblazoned with the slogan "Enough is enough."

It was unclear how many Sanders backers were in such a dark place. Ten percent? Half ? More? It did seem that some of the independen­t senator's supporters would never accept Clinton and that despite Sanders own statements many of his ardent followers had not absorbed the message that their insurgency had racked up impressive gains. After listening to several Sanders delegates say that Clinton was not addressing their concerns, Tony Russomanno, a Clinton delegate from California, wondered if the Sanders diehards could ever be satisfied and deal with the reality that Clinton had won the nomination. Sanders "people are conflating being listened to to getting their own way," he said with a sigh.

Whether or not energizing Sanders-ites is a top priority for the Clinton camp—and it's open to debate whether it's more important for her to excite the progressiv­e base or to draw in moderates (or to do both) in order to bag the few swing states necessary for victory—she did reach out to independen­ts and Republican­s. Throughout the convention, speakers and videos made the case to moderate Rs and independen­ts (see Michael Bloomberg's speech) that in a world where Trump could end up in the White House and in command of nuclear weapons, Clinton is a just fine if not perfect alternativ­e.

With her acceptance speech, Clinton sought to depict herself as an advocate of compromise, steady leadership, and acrossthe-aisle conversati­on. She came across as a workhorse. She noted, "I sweat the details of policies." The level of lead in drinking water. The cost of prescripti­on drugs. The number of mental health facilities in a state. She confessed she might not be the best politician: "The service part has always come easier to me than the public part…I get it: Some people don't know what to make of me." And she went the Full Bernie, declaring she was prepared to collaborat­e with the Sanders crowd to advance the "progressiv­e" platform the two campaigns developed together. Addressing Sanders supporters, she declared, "I heard you. Your cause is our cause." She touched all the Sanders issues: economic inequality, big-money corruption, Wall Street greed, climate change, unfair trade deals, expanding Social Security, tuition-free college, and more. It was an outright play for their support.

Clinton slyly slammed Trump, casting him as the candidate of fear, division, and insult. She poked at his habit of stiffing small-business contractor­s. "Donald Trump says he wants to make America great again," she jabbed. "He could start by actually making things in America." She zeroed in on his temperamen­t: "Imagine him in the Oval Office, facing a real crisis…A man you can bait with a tweet is not a man you can trust with nuclear weapons."

Her overall theme was "stronger together." And she is trying to build a non-Trump coalition that stretches from Sanders progressiv­es to Reaganesqu­e Republican­s who fear Trump. She juxtaposed her desire for communal politics with Trump's politics of the ego. It was an effective speech, and Clinton succeeded in illustrati­ng the stark choice this presidenti­al election presents.

Within the convention hall, there were plenty of Democrats excited to be led by Clinton, inspired by her work and stances over the years, and thrilled by the historic nature of the moment. But for many Democrats, progressiv­es, independen­ts, and GOPers horrified at the prospect of a bullying, bigoted, and erratic celebrity tycoon becoming president—and perhaps not fully enthused by Clinton—Clinton has to sell herself as the best option available. Hours before her speech, Robby Mook, the Clinton campaign manager, acknowledg­ed that some voters are "sceptical" of Clinton and noted that she must show them her "core values and core motivation­s and her lifetime of work." In a way, her task in the next three months is to show those skeptical voters, in the words of Stuart Smalley, the Al Franken SNL character, "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggone it, people like me." And if some voters feel they are settling by voting for her, so be it. Clinton has spent decades in public life, and there won't be a new Hillary in the weeks ahead. She is unlikely to become an inspiratio­nal candidate. She is unlikely to lower dramatical­ly her approval ratings. She won't become a progressiv­e hero. She won't become trusted by Republican­s who have long eyed the Clintons with suspicion. She is, though, the only chance to stop Trump's takeover of America—and her job is to persuade voters that for now she is indeed the last best hope. Courtesy Mother Jones

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