Disappointment can wait

The world outside had collapsed into a spontaneous street party. Cars were hooting, people were yell

It was Pennsylvania when things started to get crazy.

We were in a bar somewhere on Capitol Hill, where a crowd of young Washingtonites were huddled round a television. And whenever the networks called a state for Obama, they started cheering, even when it was such a solidly blue state as Massachussets or Vermont. (Logic dictates there must be plenty of Republicans in this town somewhere, but I didn't seem many of them last night.)

But it was when they called Pennsylvania that things really took off. This was the state McCain had bet everything on, this was one he couldn't afford to lose - and within mere minutes of the polls closing, there it was, standing safely behind Barack Obama.

But still people didn't allow themselves to believe. By 9pm I was telling anyone who was foolish enough to come within three feet of me that this thing was over, that Obama would win and win big, but my American friend was having none of it. "He might just scrape past 270," he shrugged. But that was it.

When we got in a cab across town, the first words spoken by the Pakistani driver - I'm pretty sure he hadn't even asked us where we were going - were, "Is he winning?" He switched on the radio, where we heard that Fox were calling Ohio for Obama. "Ah, that is good," he said. "But he still needs Florida, I think."

By the time we found another television, somewhere on U Street, Obama had 204 in the electoral college, and the polls had yet to close on the west coast. That, best I could tell, made President Obama an inevitability.

But no-one was saying it. There were painful memories of 2004, and no-one wanted to jinx a possible victory.

So when, at 11pm, the magic words appeared on the screen, the place exploded. People were screaming, hugging, high fiving strangers. One of two girls at the back of the bar who looked like they hadn't noticed it was election day asked the room what had just happened, and received a unanimous cry of, "He won!". They looked bored. Maybe they were the ones who voted for McCain.

Meanwhile the world outside had collapsed into a spontaneous street party. Cars were hooting, people were yelling, and the crowd was spilling into the road. At the corner of 14th and U hundreds were dancing alongside four guys with steel drums. About a dozen had climbed onto a bus shelter that, contrary to popular expectations, didn't collapse. One guy was sitting on a traffic light. Another was in a tree.

And the police let it all happen. I'm pretty sure some of them even joined in the hooting.

In the middle of the dancing there was one guy in a suit, looking staid and calm and, frankly, lost. My American friend suggested we stick a McCain badge on his back, just to see what happened. But no-one wanted that on their conscience.

It was after the victory speech that everyone decided to march on the White House. Its staff had cleverly arranged to have some building work going on, so we could only get so close, but that didn't stop thousands of people from showing up with the express intention of making as much noise as they possibly could. "Let's wake the old guy up!" someone was yelling.

Two guys with a cardboard cut out of the President Elect found themselves besieged by people wanting to pose with it for a photograph. Another guy - and I make no claim to understand this - was running around in his underwear, looking for all the world like he'd just forgotten to get dressed for his midnight jog.

"You Brits do realise this isn't going to change US foreign policy even one little bit?" said my American friend, never to one to accept victory without declaring a defeat.

But it didn't matter. The inevitable disappointment could wait. America had voted for President Obama, and that was all we needed to know.

Jonn Elledge edits the New Statesman's sister site CityMetric, and writes for the NS about subjects including politics, history and Daniel Hannan. You can find him on Twitter or Facebook.

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What does François Bayrou's endorsement of Emmanuel Macron mean for the French presidential race?

The support of the perennial candidate for President will boost Macron's morale but won't transform his electoral standing. 

François Bayrou, the leader of the centrist Democratic Movement and a candidate for the French presidency in 2007 and 2012, has endorsed Emmanuel Macron’s bid for the presidency.

What does it mean for the presidential race?  Under the rules of the French electoral system, if no candidate secures more than half the vote in the first round, the top two go through to a run-off.

Since 2013, Marine Le Pen has consistently led in the first round before going down to defeat in the second, regardless of the identity of her opponents, according to the polls.

However, national crises – such as terror attacks or the recent riots following the brutal arrest of a 22-year-old black man, who was sodomised with a police baton – do result in a boost for Le Pen’s standing, as does the ongoing “Penelopegate” scandal about the finances of the centre-right candidate, François Fillon.

Macron performs the most strongly of any candidate in the second round but struggles to make it into the top two in the first. Having eked out a clear lead in second place ahead of Fillon in the wake of Penelopegate, Macron’s lead has fallen back in recent polls after he said that France’s rule in Algeria was a “crime against humanity”.

Although polls show that the lion’s share of Bayrou’s supporters flow to Macron without his presence in the race, with the rest going to Fillon and Le Pen, Macron’s standing has remained unchanged regardless of whether or not Bayrou is in the race or not. So as far as the electoral battlefield is concerned, Bayrou’s decision is not a gamechanger.

But the institutional support of the Democratic Movement will add to the ability of Macron’s new party, En Marche, to get its voters to the polls on election day, though the Democratic Movement has never won a vast number of deputies or regional elections. It will further add to the good news for Macron following a successful visit to London this week, and, his supporters will hope, will transform the mood music around his campaign.

But hopes that a similar pact between Benoît Hamon, the Socialist Party candidate, and Jean-Luc Jean-Luc Mélenchon, the Left Front’s candidate, look increasingly slim, after Mélenchon said that joining up with the Socialists would be like “hanging himself to a hearse”. 

Stephen Bush is special correspondent at the New Statesman. His daily briefing, Morning Call, provides a quick and essential guide to British politics.