Hendrik Hertzberg: Recession Election
[Hendrik Hertzberg is a senior editor and staff writer at The New Yorker, where he frequently writes the Comment, in The Talk of the Town.]
Franklin Roosevelt was a lucky man and, in 1932, a lucky candidate. Start with the name—or, as today’s political marketers would say, the brand. F.D.R.’s name paired that of the twinkly, kindly philosopher of the American Revolution—the Uncle of His Country—with that of his own distant cousin, the most popular and dynamic President of the still-young twentieth century and the namesake of the Teddy bear, to boot. On top of that, F.D.R. was born to wealth and position. Just in time for radio, he had a beautiful voice. His political base was the most populous state in the nation. He was even lucky in his bad luck: people knew, vaguely, that he had had polio, but the mannerly conventions of what was not yet called the media kept his disability below the level of public consciousness.
The current President of the United States is a lucky man, too, on the whole. He’s had to be, if only to surmount his name (a veritable catalogue of unfortunate rhymes and echoes) and his birth (which, besides providing fodder for malevolent fantasies, brought him no riches, no entrée into any élite, and a skin color that presented some challenges). Barack Obama won the Democratic Presidential nomination by dint of his own large talents, a superior strategy, and his opposition to the Iraq War, but his (and his party’s) victory in the general election was mainly a function of public unhappiness with the record of the outgoing Administration, culminating in the most serious crisis in the economy since the one that lifted Roosevelt to power. For both men, national economic disaster was electoral good fortune. But Obama’s luck ran out almost as soon as the votes had been counted. F.D.R.’s held. Many factors account for the difference, but the biggest is a mundane matter of timing.
Read entire article at New Yorker
Franklin Roosevelt was a lucky man and, in 1932, a lucky candidate. Start with the name—or, as today’s political marketers would say, the brand. F.D.R.’s name paired that of the twinkly, kindly philosopher of the American Revolution—the Uncle of His Country—with that of his own distant cousin, the most popular and dynamic President of the still-young twentieth century and the namesake of the Teddy bear, to boot. On top of that, F.D.R. was born to wealth and position. Just in time for radio, he had a beautiful voice. His political base was the most populous state in the nation. He was even lucky in his bad luck: people knew, vaguely, that he had had polio, but the mannerly conventions of what was not yet called the media kept his disability below the level of public consciousness.
The current President of the United States is a lucky man, too, on the whole. He’s had to be, if only to surmount his name (a veritable catalogue of unfortunate rhymes and echoes) and his birth (which, besides providing fodder for malevolent fantasies, brought him no riches, no entrée into any élite, and a skin color that presented some challenges). Barack Obama won the Democratic Presidential nomination by dint of his own large talents, a superior strategy, and his opposition to the Iraq War, but his (and his party’s) victory in the general election was mainly a function of public unhappiness with the record of the outgoing Administration, culminating in the most serious crisis in the economy since the one that lifted Roosevelt to power. For both men, national economic disaster was electoral good fortune. But Obama’s luck ran out almost as soon as the votes had been counted. F.D.R.’s held. Many factors account for the difference, but the biggest is a mundane matter of timing.