Why Ron Paul could still rain on Romney's parade

The libertarian candidate who won't go quietly.

Rick Santorum is gone. So is Newt Gingrich. Everything looked ready for a general election match-up between Republican Mitt Romney and President Barack Obama. Just one thing, though. Ron Paul. Most of us forgot he was still running, few of us realized he was pulling off a kind of quite coup, and no one seems to know what it means.

Paul is the libertarian candidate whose Old Right platforms were all the rage in 1939. Romney, Santorum or Gingrich have beaten him in all the primaries and caucuses. Even so, he and his small army of supporters, which by some estimates has doubled since his 2008 run for the White House, is slowly staking up delegates against frontrunner Romney in states that held nonbinding caucuses. Over the weekend, he took Nevada and Maine. The weekend prior, he dominated delegates in Louisiana's state convention. Others include Iowa, Minnesota, Colorado and Alaska.

Last week, news reports came out slowly and then more frequently on what Paul was doing and why he might be doing it. Bottom line: We know how, but not why. We also know that the Republican establishment isn't taking this well. An attorney for the Republican National Committee warned Nevada that it could forfeit its spot at the national convention if Paul walks away a winner. Fox News, when it covered the RNC's threat, summed up the establishment view: Paul's "renegade campaign" hopes to "tinker with the Nevada delegate count" in order to "hijack the GOP convention."

Before I get to why he's doing it, let me explain what he's doing and how. To that end, recall that the Republican Party changed the rules of the nomination process so that delegates to the national convention are awarded proportionally instead of winner-take-all. That is, a candidate gets a percentage of the delegates (the total of which differs from state to state) depending on how much of the popular vote he received. Some states, like Florida, rejected the new rules and remained winner-take-all. In any event, in states that held primaries, a candidate either won all delegates or some, and the results were binding.

This is not the case in caucus states. The results of the popular vote were not binding. So the real work of deciding which delegates were going to represent which candidates was done at the precinct and state levels. That's where the enthusiasm and organization of Paul's campaign was superior to Romney's even though Romney's campaign is much larger and more capitalized. In Nevada, Paul took 20 of 28 delegates. In Maine, it was 22 of 25. In Louisiana, he took 111 of 150 delegates going to that state's convention. And so on.

Still, it's small beer. Romney's delegate count is 865 and he's on course to win the 1,144 needed for the nomination. For Paul, despite a superior organizing effort and huge crowds greeting him at universities and college towns, the total is a mere 93. That's a lot of effort for so little in return.

So what does it amount to? No one knows. Paul could be making a point: the neoconservatives who currently dominate the party should not alienate the party's libertarian wing. It could be a power play. If Paul captures five states, he can force a floor vote at the convention. This vote will be immediately and overwhelmingly stomped, but it might give Paul a chance to push his agenda to a bigger audience. Other than this, most say little will come of Paul's mini-coup, but some are saying time will tell. We don't know which delegates are saying they represent Romney but are secretly supporting Paul for instance. Then there are all those delegates pledged to Santorum and Gingrich. They have only suspended their campaigns. The delegates are up for grabs if they're released.

But there might be another way of looking at this. Paul is already appealing to Tea Party voters. He's also appealing to some left-of-center voters who yearn for an end to the war on terror and the war on drugs (both Paul platforms). Given this, it would be possible, maybe plausible, for Paul to represent an alternative to Romney-Obama.

If rejected at the national convention (and he surely knows he would be), Paul might redirect his support to laying the groundwork for a third party challenge. Even then, he'd be stomped. Some say the point ultimately is about the man's ideas, not the man himself. By spreading his ideas, and converting the formerly unconverted to the joys of cold-blooded Ayn Rand-style libertarianism, Paul could be making a bid for himself as a high-profile party boss.

This is politics, after all -- the art of the possible.

This post was updated at 15.30 on 7 May 2012.

Republican presidential candidate, Ron Paul, talks to the media at the University of Maryland on 28 March 2012. Credit: Getty Images

John Stoehr teaches writing at Yale. His essays and journalism have appeared in The American Prospect, Reuters Opinion, the Guardian, and Dissent, among other publications. He is a political blogger for The Washington Spectator and a frequent contributor to Al Jazeera English.

 

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Martin McGuinness's long game: why a united Ireland is now increasingly likely

McGuinness died with his ultimate goal of a united Ireland arguably closer to realisation than at any other time since the island’s partition in 1921.

In late 2011 Martin McGuinness stood as Sinn Fein’s candidate in Ireland’s presidential election, raising all sorts of intriguing possibilities.

Raised in a tiny terraced house in the Bogside, Derry, he would have ended up living in a 92-room presidential mansion in Dublin had he won. A former IRA commander, he would have become supreme commander of Ireland’s defence forces. Once banned from Britain under the Prevention of Terrorism Acts, he would have received the credentials of the next British ambassador to Dublin. Were he invited to pay a state visit to London, a man who had spent much of his youth shooting or bombing British soldiers would have found himself inspecting a guard of honour at Buckingham Palace.

McGuinness would certainly have shaken the hands of the English team before the Ireland-England rugby match at the Aviva Stadium in Dublin every other year. “I’d have no problem with that,” he told me, grinning, as he campaigned in the border county of Cavan one day that autumn. Though a staunch republican, he enjoyed the “Protestant” sports of rugby and cricket, just as he supported Manchester United and enjoyed BBC nature programmes and Last of the Summer Wine. He wrote poetry and loved fly-fishing, too. Unlike Gerry Adams, the coldest of cold fish, McGuinness was hard to dislike – provided you overlooked his brutal past.

In the event, McGuinness, weighed down by IRA baggage, came a distant third in that election but his story was astonishing enough in any case. He was the 15-year-old butcher’s assistant who rose to become the IRA chief of staff, responsible for numerous atrocities including Lord Mountbatten’s assassination and the Warrenpoint slaughter of 18 British soldiers in 1979.

Then, in 1981, an IRA prisoner named Bobby Sands won a parliamentary by-election while starving himself to death in the Maze Prison. McGuinness and Adams saw the mileage in pursuing a united Ireland via the ballot box as well as the bullet. Their long and tortuous conversion to democratic politics led to the Good Friday accord of 1998, with McGuinness using his stature and “street cred” to keep the provisional’s hard men on board. He became Northern Ireland’s improbable new education minister, and later served as its deputy first minister for a decade.

His journey from paramilitary pariah to peacemaker was punctuated by any number of astounding tableaux – visits to Downing Street and Chequers; the forging of a relationship with Ian Paisley, his erstwhile arch-enemy, so strong that they were dubbed the “Chuckle Brothers”; his denunciation of dissident republican militants as “traitors to the island of Ireland”; talks at the White House with Presidents Clinton, George W Bush and Obama; and, most remarkable of all, two meetings with the Queen as well as a state banquet at Windsor Castle at which he joined in the toast to the British head of state.

Following his death on 21 March, McGuinness received tributes from London that would have been unthinkable 20 years ago. Tony Blair said peace would not have happened “without Martin’s leadership, courage and quiet insistence that the past should not define the future”. Theresa May praised his “essential and historic contribution to the extraordinary journey of Northern Ireland from conflict to peace”.

What few noted was that McGuinness died with his ultimate goal of a united Ireland arguably closer to realisation – albeit by peaceful methods – than at any other time since the island’s partition in 1921.

The Brexit vote last June has changed political dynamics in Northern Ireland. The province voted by 56 per cent to 44 in favour of remaining in the European Union, and may suffer badly when Britain leaves. It fears the return of a “hard border” with the Republic of Ireland, and could lose £330m in EU subsidies.

Dismay at the Brexit vote helped to boost Sinn Fein’s performance in this month’s Stormont Assembly elections. The party came within 1,200 votes of overtaking the Democratic Unionist Party, which not only campaigned for Leave but used a legal loophole to funnel £425,000 in undeclared funds to the broader UK campaign. For the first time in Northern Ireland’s history, the combined unionist parties no longer have an overall majority. “The notion of a perpetual unionist majority has been demolished,” Gerry Adams declared.

Other factors are also working in Sinn Fein’s favour. The party is refusing to enter a new power-sharing agreement at Stormont unless the DUP agrees to terms more favourable to the Irish nationalists. Sinn Fein will win if the DUP agrees to this, but it will also win if there is no deal – and London further inflames nationalist sentiment by imposing direct rule.

McGuinness’s recent replacement as Sinn Fein’s leader in Northern Ireland by Michelle O’Neill, a personable, socially progressive 40-year-old unsullied by the Troubles, marks another significant step in the party’s move towards respectability. As Patrick Maguire recently wrote in the New Statesman, “the age of the IRA old boys at the top is over”.

More broadly, Scottish independence would make the notion of Northern Ireland leaving the UK seem less radical. The Irish republic’s economic recovery and the decline of the Roman Catholic Church have rendered the idea of Irish unity a little less anathema to moderate unionists. And all the time, the province’s Protestant majority is shrinking: just 48 per cent of the population identified itself as Protestant in the 2011 census and 45 per cent Catholic.

The Good Friday Agreement provides for a referendum if a majority appears to favour Irish unity. Sinn Fein is beginning to agitate for exactly that. When Adams and McGuinness turned from violence to constitutional politics back in the 1980s they opted for the long game. Unfortunately for McGuinness, it proved too long for him to see Irish nationalism victorious, but it is no longer inconceivable that his four grown-up children might. 

This article first appeared in the 23 March 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Trump's permanent revolution