Romney still can't light a fire under Republicans

Evangelicals and others conservatives are still tepid about Romney's candidacy.

Mitt Romney's foot is having a love affair with his mouth. Instead of basking in the glow of victory after winning Florida, the GOP front-runner spent the week defending remarks he made about not caring for the poor and that if the safety net were broken, he'd fix it. Those are two things you don't want to say if you don't want to be blasted from the left and the right. Liberals thought it was heartless while conservatives wondered if this guy is really conservative (answer: no).

Romney didn't say anything that dumb after winning Illinois but Eric Fehrnstrom, his top aide, did. He told CNN that his candidate had not tacked too far to the right for the general election and that the summer offers the opportunity to start over: "It's almost like an Etch-A-Sketch," he said. "You can kind of shake it up and restart all of over again."

In the age of the internet, never give the enemy a meme to use against you. Unfortunately for Romney, that iconic kid's toy was just that kind of meme, a symbol that's ironic, retro and suggestive of the kind of president Romney might be. Within hours of Fehrnstrom's comment, wrote Benjy Sarlin of Talking Points Memo, operatives both Democratic and Republican were shoving the meme down the media's throat.

"It seemed every political flack in the country not aligned with Romney's campaign had their own video, one-off website or stunt to hammer the message home," Sarlin wrote.

This after Jeb Bush, the former governor of Florida and brother of former President George W. Bush, gave Romney his blessing. Bush's endorsement was widely seen as the final stage in Romney ascent to the nomination. Basically, Bush was saying: Hey guys, let's wrap this up.

Too bad no one knew that a majority of voters in Louisiana would cite the Etch-a-Sketch comment in their decision to vote for Rick Santorum. In fairness, Santorum was polling so well in the run-up to the primary that Nate Silver, of the New York Times, gave him a 97 per cent change of taking the state. And Santorum's social conservatism has performed well generally in the American South, where he took Mississippi, Alabama, Tennessee, Kansas and Oklahoma.

Even so, Romney still walked away with some delegates. As you know if you've been keeping score, the Republican Party changed the rules this year so that delegates are supposed to be awarded on a proportional basis. That means no one really "wins" a state unless the state has chosen to ignore the national party's rule (winner takes all, instead) or unless the candidate wins by a huge margin of victory. Because Louisiana is proportional, Romney, who won 26.7 percent of the votes to Santorum's 49, still gets a percentage of Louisiana's 20 delegates.

What does Santorum's victory mean? I suspect that not much has changed. Romney still has more than double the delegates that Santorum has. Upcoming primaries, moreover, are being held in states that favor Romney, like Maryland, Wisconsin, New York and Connecticut. In fact, a win in Santorum's home state of Pennsylvania would be the final nail in the coffin, as it would send the message: I'm the man.

So the numbers are in his favor, but numbers don't mean as much in the general election. What matters are votes -- and Romney can't light a fire under Republicans. Conservatives have a history of getting in line once a nominee has emerged, but they don't have a good history of voting if they don't feel something for the candidate.

That's what Karl Rove, George W. Bush's adviser, worried about in 2004 -- getting enough evangelical Christians out to tip the scales in his candidate's favor. Evangelicals and others conservatives are still tepid about Romney. They may get in line, but more importantly, they have to vote. With exit polls showing historically low voter turnout in every state except one, that doesn't bode well for Romney.

John Stoehr is a lecturer in English at Yale University.

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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France’s burkini ban could not come at a worse time

Yet more legislation against veiled women can only further divide an already divided nation.

Since mayor of Cannes David Lisnard banned the full-body burkini from his town’s beaches, as many as 15 French resorts have followed suit. Arguments defending the bans fall into three main categories. First, it is about defending the French state’s secularism (laïcité). Second, that the costume represents a misogynistic doctrine that sees female bodies as shameful. And finally, that the burkini is cited as a threat to public order.

None of these arguments satisfactorily refute the claims of civil rights activists that the bans are fundamentally Islamophobic.

The niceties of laïcité

The Cannes decree explicitly invokes secular values. It prohibits anyone “not dressed in a fashion respectful of laïcité” from accessing public beaches. However, the French state has only banned “ostentatious” religious symbols in schools and for government employees as part of laïcité (the strict separation between the state and religious society). And in public spaces, laïcité claims to respect religious plurality. Indeed, the Laïcité Commission has tweeted that the ban, therefore, “cannot be based upon the principle of laïcité”.

While veils covering the entire face such as the burqa or niqab are illegal, this is not to protect laïcité; it is a security matter. The legal justification is that these clothes make it impossible to identify the person underneath – which is not the case for the burkini.

 

By falling back on laïcité to police Muslim women in this way, the Cannes authorities are fuelling the argument that “fundamentalist secularism” has become a means of excluding Muslims from French society.

Colonial attitudes

Others, such as Laurence Rossignol, the minister for women’s rights, hold that the burkini represents a “profoundly archaic view of a woman’s place in society”, disregarding Muslim women who claim to wear their burkini voluntarily.

This typifies an enduring colonial attitude among many non-Muslim French politicians, who feel entitled to dictate to Muslim women what is in their best interests. Rossignol has in the past compared women who wear headscarves through choice to American “negroes” who supported slavery.

Far from supporting women’s rights, banning the burkini will only leave the women who wear it feeling persecuted. Even those with no choice in the matter are not helped by the ban. This legal measure does nothing to challenge patriarchal authority over female bodies in the home. Instead, it further restricts the lives of veiled women by replacing it with state authority in public.

Open Islamophobia

Supporters of the ban have also claimed that, with racial tensions high after recent terrorist attacks, it is provocative to wear this form of Muslim clothing. Such an argument was made by Pierre-Ange Vivoni, mayor of Sisco in Corsica, when he banned the burkini in his commune. Early reports suggested a violent clash between local residents and non-locals of Moroccan origin was triggered when strangers photographed a burkini-wearing woman in the latter group, which angered her male companions. Vivoni claimed that banning the costume protected the security of local people, including those of North African descent.

Those reports have transpired to be false: none of the women in question were even wearing a burkini at the time of the incident. Nonetheless, the ban has stood in Sisco and elsewhere.

To be “provoked” by the burkini is to be provoked by the visibility of Muslims. Banning it on this basis punishes Muslim women for other people’s prejudice. It also disregards the burkini’s potential to promote social cohesion by giving veiled women access to the same spaces as their non-Muslim compatriots.

Appeals to public order have, occasionally, been openly Islamophobic. Thierry Migoule, head of municipal services in Cannes, claimed that the burkini “refers to an allegiance to terrorist movements”, conveniently ignoring the Muslim victims of recent attacks. Barely a month after Muslims paying their respects to friends and family killed in Nice were racially abused, such comments are both distasteful and irresponsible.

Increased divisions

Feiza Ben Mohammed, spokesperson for the Federation of Southern Muslims, fears that stigmatising Muslims in this way will play into the hands of IS recruiters. That fear seems well-founded: researchers cite a sense of exclusion as a factor behind the radicalisation of a minority of French Muslims. Measures like this can only exacerbate that problem. Indeed, provoking repressive measures against European Muslims to cultivate such a sentiment is part of the IS strategy.

Meanwhile, the day after the incident in Sisco, riot police were needed in nearby Bastia to prevent a 200-strong crowd chanting “this is our home” from entering a neighbourhood with many residents of North African descent. Given the recent warning from France’s head of internal security of the risk of a confrontation between “the extreme right and the Muslim world”, such scenes are equally concerning.

Now more than ever, France needs unity. Yet more legislation against veiled women can only further divide an already divided nation.

The Conversation

Fraser McQueen, PhD Candidate, University of Stirling

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.