Obama and the New American Exceptionalism

I have, for the last few months, been an ardent defender of both Bill and Hillary Clinton.  From my perspective, they have run a largely positive campaign and have been the victims of a permissive media environment, established long ago, in which unfair attacks on the Clintons are commonplace, no matter how deranged; it has been both a political and personal shock to see the reputations of two progressive lions maligned by fellow Democrats in a way of which I thought only Republicans were capable.  However, recognizing the difficulty inherent in Hillary's challenge and after promising myself that, if she didn't keep it close in NC, I would abandon my support, I gave my first donation to Obama's campaign on Wednesday morning.  I wanted to lay out what I see as the primary virtue of Obama's candidacy.    

It is largely emotional and not unrelated to the argument fronted by Andrew Sullivan back in the November edition of The Atlantic.  Sullivan's primary premise rested on the soft power potential of an Obama election; instead of the force of American arms, the force of American ideas, codified in our Declaration and made manifest by the election of a black man, would be the diplomatic equivalent of "shock and awe."  

But, for me, the overriding appeal of Obama's candidacy has to do with the domestic political transformation that it could bring about.  For too long the Republican Party has been the primary beneficiary of American exceptionalism--the idea that the United States has a unique role to play in this ongoing historical drama, that the American experiment in representative democracy has been a qualified, but nevertheless, inspired success.  The GOP has a largely martial concept of this exceptionalism, forged during the military adventures of the Cold War--Vietnam, the Gulf War, Iraq, and Afghanistan. For progressives, American exceptionalism has always rested upon more domestic concerns, most recently the triumphs of the Civil Rights movement.  But, because for the last 30 years we've been fighting a rear-guard action on the civil liberties front, with the liberal consensus slowly being whittled away by the Republican resurgence, it's been hard for us to muster the enthusiasm to convincingly make the Exceptionalist case. Obama's candidacy again provides us with the private confidence and public opportunity to speak convincingly of what we find great about our American heritage--but without having to get bogged down in the nitty-gritty partisan issues on which the Republicans would slyly snipe us to death.

Obama's most impressive political feat has been his seamless integration of his personal narrative into the arc of a greater American narrative that runs from Shiloh to Selma.  "They said it couldn't be done..."--a simple phrase with an emotional impact that is usually reserved for battlefield victories.  We are, and will continue to be, a reality based community, but Democrats must not fear the emotional fervor that has for too long been the sole purview of the GOP.  We finally have a candidate whose personality and story embodies our policies--who speaks to us both intellectually and emotionally.          

I think Michelle Obama misspoke when she said that Barack's candidacy has made her proud of her country for the first time in her adult life.  I would argue that it has simply allowed us to remember why, deep down, despite the setbacks, we always have been.