Obama’s finance decision is not fatal


Barack Obama’s reputation as the exemplar of change took a hit recently when he reversed position and rejected public financing for the general election campaign.

By opting for practicality made possible by his enormous fundraising capacity, he stirred a storm among the purists on the editorial pages who concluded that he had damaged his claim to be different from the average ambitious politician.

And he hardly helped himself with his unconvincing explanation of how John McCain and the Republicans made him do it, simultaneously seeking to justify the change and disclaim responsibility for it.

But perhaps Obama’s decision should be seen as simply a hard-headed judgment he believes would best help him win the White House.

In part, that conclusion may reflect the fact that, after 45 years in Washington, I’ve become skeptical of any candidate who declares he represents a “new politics” superior to that of his rivals.

That has been one of Obama’s principal mantras in seeking to contrast himself with traditional politics, particularly the bitter partisanship of recent years.

His claim to be different rests on his persona, his approach to politics and his stance on some key issues, including his early opposition to attacking Iraq, his vow to reach out to America’s enemies as well as its friends, and the need to work across party lines in forging solutions to national problems.

All are worthwhile objectives, to be sure, but hardly revolutionary. Besides, his position on Iraq has never been quite as clear-cut as in his initial judgment, and he has talked more about bipartisanship since coming to Washington than he has pursued it.

Other campaigns, from Adlai Stevenson to George McGovern to Gary Hart, enlisted the enthusiasm of young people; Howard Dean used the Internet in 2004 as a successful fundraising machine, though not to this extent; and many spoke of bridging the partisan divide, most recently when George W. Bush pledged to be a “uniter, not a divider.”

The most obvious way Obama differs from the nation’s other principal politicians is in his heritage and his career path.

As the first African-American to clinch a major-party nomination, he brings an unusual background stemming both from his biracial heritage and his unlikely journey from childhood in Hawaii to community activist in Chicago to the national political stage.

Urban politician

He’s the first urban politician to win either party nomination since John F. Kennedy and one of the few ever.

But while Obama’s switch on financing his campaign may not alter his claim to be different, it could affect perceptions of his consistency.

And any sense that he is inconsistent could damage him with an electorate still trying to understand who he is and where he would lead the country.

Yet rigidity could be equally dangerous.

History is full of presidents or candidates who changed their positions, for better or worse: Ronald Reagan and George W. Bush talked fiscal responsibility and ran up big deficits; Bill Clinton talked of a middle-class tax cut and raised taxes as part of deficit control; Franklin Roosevelt campaigned on a balanced budget.

The good news for Obama is that a flip-flop on campaign finance reform is hardly likely to move many votes. Besides, McCain has engaged in his share of changes — on the Bush tax cuts, immigration legislation and, most recently, in backing offshore oil drilling.

But polls show that one of McCain’s advantages is that he is seen as the stronger leader, a key attribute. Changing positions won’t help Obama overcome that.

Still, in a year in which voters clearly want to alter the nation’s course, it’s inevitable that a 47-year-old African-American will be seen as more symbolic of change than a white, 72-year-old political veteran.

X Carl P. Leubsdorf is Washington bureau chief of the Dallas Morning News. Distributed by McClatchy-Tribune Information Services.