Did Romney throw his presidential bid away for $10,000?

The Republican frontrunner tried to make a bet with a rival candidate during a televised debate, she

Mitt Romney may have got a bit carried away during the GOP candidates' debate on Saturday, when he extended a hand to candidate Rick Perry and said: "Rick, I'll tell you what: $10,000 bucks? Ten thousand bet?".

The bet -- which Perry declined to take part in, saying "I'm not in the betting business" -- was about a line in Romney's book No Apology. Perry claimed it showed support for national healthcare. .

Romney, who brought healthcare reform to Massachussets in a move that was unpopular with conservatives, said that he did not support the measure nationwide and denied that the passage appeaered in the first edition of the book.

The fact-checking site Politifact rated the claim made by Perry as "mostly false".

But although Romney might well have won the bet if Perry had accepted, he is more likely than not regretting it as he has given his rival candidates more ammunition against him.

The $10,000 bet (the first in 50 years of televised US debates) sheds light on Romney's personal wealth; he is thought to be the wealthiest candidate, with his latest financial disclosure in 2008 putting his personal wealth at between $190m and $250m. The median average income in America is $26,197. The bet could even go against his Mormon faith. But most importantly, his political rivals now have the opportunity to accuse him of being flimsy.

Both Perry and Jon Huntsman have come out with ads focusing on this debate faux pas, one titled "The truth cannot be bought" and the other "Challenge Accepted". And the Huntsman team even bought the domain name

Over at Marbury, Ian Leslie argues that the Romney campaign might even have premeditated the bet in a spectacular misjudgement:

The mistake wasn't so much the size of the bet as the fact that by attempting to create a 'moment', the Romney camp have only ended up drawing attention to their candidate's fatal flaw.

Romney's press secretary, Eric Fehrnstrom, tried to downplay the damage, claiming that Romney was joking in the way that friends might make million dollar bets with each other. It seems like the joke is on the Romney campaign.


Show Hide image

What it’s like to be a Syrian refugee in Paris

“We fled from terror and it found us again here. It feels like it is always behind us, stalking us.”

Walid al Omari arrived in Paris a little less than a month ago. Having fled the slaughter of his homeland and undertaken the long and dangerous journey, like tens of thousands of other Syrian refugees, to western Europe, he was finally safe.

Ten days later, a wave of brutal violence tore through the French capital as gunmen and suicide bombers put an end to the lives of 130 people who had been out enjoying a drink, dinner, a concert or a football match.

“It felt like terrorism was everywhere,” recalls the 57-year-old Walid, a former small business owner and journalist from the suburbs of Damascus.

“We fled from terror and it found us again here. It feels like it is always behind us, stalking us.”

Syrian refugees, not just in Paris but across Europe and North America, have since found themselves caught up in a storm of suspicion. The backlash started after it emerged that at least two of the attackers arrived in Europe among refugees travelling to Greece, while a Syrian passport was found next to one of the bodies.

It has not yet been confirmed if the two men were really Syrian – all suspects whose identities have so far been made public were either French or Belgian – while the passport is widely believed to be a fake. But, already, several US states have said they will not accept any more refugees from Syria. In Europe, Poland has called for the EU’s quota scheme for resettling refugees to be scrapped, while lawmakers in France, Germany and elsewhere have called for caps on refugee and migrant numbers.

“I fear the worse,” says Sabreen al Rassace, who works for Revivre, a charity that helps Syrian refugees resettle in France. She says she has been swamped by calls by concerned refugees in the days following the attacks.

“They ask me if the papers they have been given since they arrived in France will be taken away, if they’ll be sent back to Syria,” she says.

Anas Fouiz, who arrived in Paris in September, has experienced the backlash against refugees first hand.

“One waiter at a bar asked me where I was from and when I said Syria he said that I must be a terrorist, that all Arab people are terrorists,” says the 27-year-old from Damascus, who had been a fashion student before leaving for Europe.

The irony is that the terrorist organisation that claimed responsibility for the Paris attacks, the Islamic State, is, along with Bashar al Assad’s army and other militant groups, responsible for the long list of atrocities that prompted many like Walid and Anas to flee their homes.

“As a man in Syria you have the choice of joining the Syrian army, the Islamic state or another militant group, or you run away,” says Anas.

He remembers seeing news of the attacks unfold on television screens in bars and cafés in the Bastille area of Paris – close to where much of the carnage took place – as he drank with a friend. Desensitised by having seen so much violence and death in his home city, he didn’t feel any shock or fear.

“I just felt bad, because I know this situation,” he says. “You just ask yourself ‘why? Why do these people have to die?’.”

Perhaps a more pressing cause for concern is how easily extremists in Europe can travel to Syria and back again through the porous borders on the EU’s fringes – as several of the Paris attacks suspects are thought to have done.

Both Anas and Walid speak of the lax security they faced when entering Europe.

“Turkey lets people across the border for $20,” says Walid.

“In Greece, they just ask you to write your nationality, they don’t check passports,” adds Anas. “It’s the same in Hungary and Macedonia.”

Nevertheless, and despite his experience with the waiter, Anas says he is happy with the welcome he has received by the vast majority of the French people.

In fact, at a time when fear and violence risk deepening religious and social rifts, Anas’s story is a heartening tale of divisions being bridged.

Upon first arriving in Paris he slept on the streets, before a passer-by, a woman of Moroccan origin, offered him a room in her flat. He then spent time at a Christian organization that provides shelter for refugees, before moving in with a French-Jewish family he was put in touch with through another charity.

He says the biggest problem is that he misses his parents, who are still in Damascus.

“I speak to my mum twice a day on the phone,” he says. “She asks me if I’m okay, if I’m keeping safe. She’s worried about me.”