Clinton vs. Obama: The 2008 Democratic Presidential Primary

Obama's Decision to Run for the Presidency

Why — and when — did Obama decide to make a run for the White House? Did he believe his chances were good, or was he just setting the table for a future run?

"…I have chosen a life with a ridiculous schedule, a life that requires me to be gone from Michelle and the girls for long stretches of time and that exposes Michelle to all sorts of stress. I may tell myself that in some larger sense I am in politics for Malia and Sasha, that the work I do will make the world a better place for them. But such rationalizations seem feeble and painfully abstract when I'm missing one of the girl's school potlucks because of a vote, or calling Michelle to tell her that session's been extended and we need to postpone our vacation…" (Barack Obama, The Audacity of Hope, p. 348).

From Obama's books and his speeches leading up to late 2006, it seems safe to say he had the White House on his radar for years before his announcement. In his second book, The Audacity of Hope, published early in 2006, he explains that he felt guilt about the fact that his busy schedule as a U.S. Senator was keeping him from enjoying family life. But by December 2006, according to Richard Wolffe's book Renegade: The Making of a President, Obama had a "restless ambition" to run for the presidency, which would take him away from his family far more often than his Senate duties would. Wolffe, who had near-constant access to Obama in the months leading up to the Democratic primary and throughout the whirlwind, pressure-packed primary campaign, writes that Obama "…realized that his family time would disappear, that every word and every vote would be scrubbed, parsed, distorted, and exploited" (Wolffe, p. 24). And yet, Wolffe continues, Obama knew "this moment might never come again."

Wolffe's early chapters set the tone and stage for Obama's decision to run. Wolffe traces the life Obama led as a young boy in Hawaii and Indonesia and draws the reader into the relationship between Obama and his mother, Stanley Ann, an anthropologist who woke her son up "…at four each morning in Indonesia to teach him an American correspondence course" (Wolffe, p. 27). She also "…drilled a sense of empathy into her son and left him with a deep commitment to social justice" (Wolffe, p. 29). She occasionally woke him in the middle of the night "to stare at a magical moon" and took him on her Ph.D. fieldwork — tours of temples and churches. "What is best in me I owe to her," Obama told Wolffe (p. 29).

Obama had actually begun to think about running for the presidency shortly after Hurricane Katrina, Wolffe writes on page 44. Because he was the only African American senator at the time, he felt obligated to speak out about the devastation in New Orleans. When he appeared on ABC's This Week, he used the opportunity to explain that the people in New Orleans "…were abandoned long ago" — not just after the hurricane. They were abandoned "…to murder and mayhem in their streets; to substandard schools; to dilapidated housing; to inadequate health care; to a pervasive sense of hopelessness" (Wolffe, p. 44).

Pushing Obama closer and closer to a decision was the power of his popularity. The swarming thousands who showed up at his book signings gave him the final push he needed, Wolffe continues (p. 48). "What became clear was that the mood for something different, for change, was strong…when we were in Seattle for a book signing and put out free tickets over the Internet, they were gone in two hours. When people were scalping tickets for a free book signing, you got a sense that people's interest was still high" (Wolffe, pp. 48–49). All those ego-fulfilling moments on the book tours were energizing Obama, but he still needed the support of his wife Michelle, who was "angry at his selfishness and careerism" during his failed campaign for Congress in 2000 (Wolffe, p. 52).

From November through the end of the holidays in 2006, Obama sought the advice of everyone he trusted, and by January 2007 he made his announcement. He was not testing the waters for a future run — he was in it to win as a renegade.

In The Battle for America 2008 (Balz, et al., 2009), the authors suggest that Obama's 17-day trip to Africa during his second year as U.S. Senator "had a profound effect" on him. "He began to think about how his election as president might change America's image around the world," Balz wrote on page 27. But the trip that "moved him irretrievably into the 2008 campaign" was a book-signing visit to New Hampshire in December 2006. The crowds were huge, the enthusiasm was intense, and 1,500 people paid $25 each for a chance to hear Obama speak.

If he did decide to run, he pointed out in New Hampshire news conferences, his reasons would be "because I think I will serve the country well…and I think what is going on is that people are very hungry for something new" (Balz, p. 32). People want something "larger than the kind of small, petty, slash-and-burn politics" that had been in evidence in recent years, Obama explained. He said he believed he was "a stand-in for that desire on the part of the country" (Balz, p. 32).

From the literature available, there is no indication that Obama or his close associates believed that facing a woman would be either an advantage or a disadvantage. It was clear that Obama was more focused on the fact that he was facing a Clinton — a name synonymous with the Democratic Party — an experienced politician with international name recognition and a husband who was a former president.

Racism and Patriotism in the 2008 Democratic Primary

In March 2007, after Hillary Clinton had thoroughly beaten Obama in a candidate's forum in Las Vegas, Obama realized he had "leaped into the deep end of a very cold pool" and it took him "a while to figure out how to swim" (Balz, p. 74). Clinton was razor sharp on health care — Obama had no plan ready to discuss — and Clinton delivered a "full-blown stump speech," Balz writes. After two and a half months on the campaign trail, Obama was "exhausted" and "looked miserable" (Balz, p. 74). But Obama had an ace up his sleeve: he had not supported the invasion of Iraq, while Clinton had. As Clinton changed her answers regarding why she voted for Bush's invasion, Obama consistently highlighted his reasons for speaking out against the war from the beginning.

Some friction between the Clinton and Obama camps was inevitable. When the debates began, Clinton was the strong candidate who seemed ready, while Obama was still learning on the job. Obama was critical of Clinton, but when asked by Balz and Johnson if he was "portraying Clinton as embodying the worst of the political system," he did not agree with that harsh characterization (Balz, p. 118). Although Obama knew full well he was "running against the dominant brand name of the Democratic Party" (p. 119), he refused to say Clinton "represents the worst of the system." But he had his own style of attack politics: "…she's run a textbook campaign and the textbook that is issued by Washington conventional wisdom says you should be vague and avoid definitive answers…" (pp. 118–119).

When Clinton lost the Iowa caucuses to Obama in 2008, it did not come as a complete surprise; Clinton's internal polling showed that five days prior to the Jefferson-Jackson Dinner in Iowa, she led 32 to 25 over Obama. But five days later, "Obama had surged into the lead" (Balz, p. 121).

Both candidates were attacked for their political positions, but they were also forced to contend with bias. For Clinton, the bias tended to be gender-based; for Obama, his race came into play, often in unfair doses of prejudice. When an African American gunning for the presidency makes surprisingly substantial strides in the campaign, that is big news in the United States. When the principal opponent of that candidate is a woman running neck-and-neck with the black candidate, that is even bigger news. With so much at stake — two ongoing wars, an economic meltdown, thousands of people being evicted from their homes and laid off every day — the national mood was more than a little stressful.

In the journal Du Bois Review, Parker et al. (2009, p. 194) point to racism and patriotism as key themes in the 2008 Democratic primary. "Race was a consistent narrative" used by those opposed to Obama, Parker explains (p. 194). Both Clinton and the Republicans "used racial references" to attack Obama, including attacks on Obama "for his perceived inability to connect to 'real working Americans'" (p. 194). The Republican sideshow figure known as "Joe the Plumber" attacked Obama with the charge that Obama was "seeking to take money from hardworking 'real Americans' to give it to 'those people'" (p. 194). Clinton questioned Obama's patriotism by suggesting he was not a "real" American. Parker notes that when Governor Dukakis ran for president as a Democrat, he was attacked, but no one questioned whether he was "a real American as they did with Obama" (p. 195).

Parker presents two faces of racism that Obama had to confront: "symbolic racism" and "laissez-faire racism." But Parker also identifies a third approach — one "that connects national pride to racial antipathy: patriotism" (p. 196). Symbolic racism is the feeling among some white citizens that black people are inferior; to them, Obama represented the violation of "cherished U.S. values…unwillingness to work, lack of thrift, criminality, and welfare" (p. 196). As for laissez-faire racism, the authors explain that this form shifts attention from the individual black man to the "group": blacks are seen as simply not qualified to have the same resources as whites, and whites "blame blacks" for many of the social ills in America. Whites "ascribe negative stereotypes to blacks," and hence Obama, as president, would pose a "threat to whites' group position — both materially and in terms of social status" (p. 196).

The link between patriotism and racism, Parker explains, stems from the belief among some whites that they are "prototypical Americans" and that, as a means of "perpetuating domination," they appropriate symbols of the United States — the flag and the Constitution (p. 197). The "Social Dominance Theory" posits that patriotism and the symbols associated with it "are commensurate with negative feelings toward the subordinate group" (p. 197). More simply put, some whites would in some way reject Obama because "love of country…implies the endorsement of [the country's] hierarchical ethos, at least among dominant groups" (p. 197). Beyond obvious racism, on page 210 the authors suggest that mitigating against Obama's candidacy was the fact that he spent part of his life in Indonesia, which spurred some "to see him as a foreigner, compounding the effect of symbolic racism" — and whites tend to "reject perceived foreigners" (p. 210). Perhaps white-collar whites would have "embraced the historical nature of his candidacy" if Obama had had a more "traditional" African American background — someone with "more organic ties to the black struggle" (p. 210).

In the conclusion of Parker's article, the authors assert that "The evidence clearly shows we have not moved on to a post-racial era," as a close analysis reveals both race and racism played "critical roles" in the campaign (p. 211). Part of the racism alluded to was the accusation that Obama was a Muslim; after all, his father had embraced Islam and Obama's middle name was "Hussein." On page 272 of Wolffe's book, the author writes that although Obama showed great confidence in his understanding of foreign affairs, he "lacked the fear to cower from the personal smears." Obama "pushed back against rumors he was a Muslim, but he never tried to counter the bigger smears against Muslim Americans" (Wolffe, p. 272). Obama simply did not have the political strength to respond effectively to the hateful rhetoric used against him — rhetoric that came not from the Clinton campaign or from John McCain's campaign, but from other quarters.

One political figure who did have the clout to respond to these unsubstantiated rumors was Colin Powell. On Meet the Press, Powell "was deeply troubled by Republicans suggesting that Obama was a Muslim," Wolffe wrote. He quoted Powell's remarks:

"Well, the correct answer is, he is not Muslim, he's a Christian. He's always been a Christian. But the really right answer is, what if he is? Is there something wrong with being a Muslim in this country? The answer's no, that's not America. Is there something wrong with some seven-year-old Muslim American kid believing that he or she could be president?" (Wolffe, p. 272).

Powell added that he had heard "senior members of my own party drop the suggestion, 'He's a Muslim and he might be associated with terrorists' — This is not the way we should be doing it in America" (p. 272).

Gender Bias and Hillary Clinton's Campaign

Author and professor Jennifer L. Lawless writes in the journal Politics & Gender that Hillary Clinton "…operated within, and was forced to respond strategically to, an electoral environment rife with overt bias" (Lawless, 2009, p. 71). The bias Lawless alludes to includes not just chauvinism but "even misogyny." Lawless notes several incidents of blatant sexism during the primary. In New Hampshire, several days before the election — which Clinton won, keeping her in the race following a shocking defeat to Obama in Iowa — two men chanted "Iron my shirt!" (Lawless, p. 72). Clinton responded, "Ah, the remnants of sexism — alive and well." The day before the New Hampshire primary, Clinton attended a coffee meeting with local women, and when asked whether the pressures of the campaign ever truly got to her, she admitted it was a rough road and visibly teared up. Commentator Bill Maher said, "The first thing a woman does, of course, is cry" (p. 72). MSNBC anchor Chris Matthews used words like "stripteaser" and "witchy" in describing Clinton. Lawless asks readers to consider Tucker Carlson's assessment of the Hillary Clinton nutcracker: "That is so perfect. I have often said, when she comes on television, I involuntarily cross my legs" (Lawless, p. 72).

That said, Lawless insists that "…being female did not cost her the nomination" (p. 73) and "sexism did not affect the outcome of the race," although bias "did provide an additional hurdle with which Clinton, because she was a woman, had to grapple." In the same sense that Obama had to grapple with rumors that he was Muslim, or that he wasn't born in the United States, or that he wasn't patriotic, Clinton had to develop a strategy to deal with the bias that frequently arises when women run for office. On page 74, Lawless references a Pew Research Center poll taken right after Obama clinched the nomination; this poll attempted to account for the fact that women have not moved into "high-level" elective positions in the United States.

The Pew poll revealed that 51% of respondents believe Americans are not yet ready "to elect a woman to high office" (p. 74). Beyond that, 40% of those polled indicated that "women are discriminated against in all realms of society, including politics," Lawless explained. A separate Lake Research/Lifetime Television poll showed that 40% of women "do not think Hillary Clinton was treated fairly in her campaign" (p. 74). On the question of whether women and men "face an equal chance of being elected to high-level office," only 13% of women agreed, compared with 24% of men. And 64% of women agreed that it is "…harder for a woman to raise money for a campaign than a man," while 38% of men agreed with that in the Pew poll (p. 75).

Another dynamic in the gender discussion was the expectation that women should vote for women, Lawless writes on page 76. "In many cases, women feel better about government when more women are included in positions of political power," Lawless continues. When "prominent women did not support Hillary Clinton, the onus was on them either to explain or to apologize for their 'deviation'" (Lawless, p. 76). U.S. Senator Claire McCaskill said she supported Obama but felt "significant guilt" for that endorsement (p. 76):

"I think it's hard for women. We all care very much about gender equality, and so it's easy to kind of gravitate over to gender preference…Hillary Clinton is a strong, smart woman. She is…she would be a terrific president…I have got a lot of my supporters and friends that are disappointed in me, that I feel like I owe a — almost a blind loyalty to Senator Clinton, because she is capable and strong and would be a good president."

Other women in prominent positions who supported Obama gave similar tributes to Clinton. In the same vein, when Philadelphia mayor Michael Nutter, an African American, endorsed Clinton, he was also pressed to offer an explanation. Nutter said Obama's candidacy did represent a milestone, but he also observed that African Americans, like other ethnic groups, cast votes as individuals rather than as a bloc. When asked whether it was insulting to have to defend his support for a white woman while a black man was also running, Nutter replied:

"It's not insulting. It's presumptuous. It demonstrates a continuation of this notion that the African American community, unlike any other, is completely monolithic, that everyone in the African American community does the same thing in lockstep, in contrast to any other group. I mean, I don't remember seeing John Kerry on TV and anybody saying to him, 'I can't believe you're not for Hillary Clinton.' Why?"

Lawless concludes her essay noting that the United States ranks in the "top 10 countries" when it comes to gender equality in job opportunities, education, and "family law" (p. 78). And yet the political arena is "more complicated for women than for men." She presents three ways in which gender shaped the campaign. First, Clinton was "forced to function" in a sexist environment — at least that was how pundits and analysts described the primary. Second, potential candidates who think about running likely perceive that the political landscape is riddled with sexist traps; this reality is the potential candidate's "rational response to the prospects of navigating a system in which women must contend with bias" (p. 79). Third, women who chose to endorse Obama "had to fight allegations of 'betrayal,' thereby indicating that operating in the political sphere — even for female party leaders, officials, and elites — is more complex than it is for men" (p. 79).

Professor Carmen R. Lugo-Lugo asserts in the Journal of African American Studies that Obama's "image, public persona and body…was used to foster and maintain a climate of fear of the browned anti-and un-American body" (Lugo-Lugo, et al., 2008, p. 111). While other scholars and pundits reviewed Obama's candidacy as that of a black man overcoming certain racial and ethnic fears, Lugo-Lugo insists that Obama was made into a "brown man." The figure of Obama — biracial, the child of a Caucasian woman from Kansas and a black man from Kenya — "served as a canvas over which constructions of terrorism, post-September 11th anxieties, and fears of renewed terrorist (and anti-American) threats were sketched," Lugo-Lugo writes (p. 112).

Moreover, questions were raised during the primary about Obama's "Americanness (articulated both as loyalty to his nation and as concern over his citizenship)," which contributed to the negative themes that accompanied nearly everything Obama said and did. The "browning" of Obama was part of the broader strategy that the Bush administration and others had promoted since September 11, 2001. The administration — and much of the country — developed "rhetorical, political, and legal strategies" aimed at "browning particular populations" (p. 112). Lugo-Lugo describes "browned bodies" as: a) perceived as "threats to the U.S. Government and/or the 'social fabric' of the country" post-9/11; b) "rendered as being in opposition to an abstract yet powerful notion of Americanness"; c) those cultures that must be strictly contained (p. 112). In other words, specific groups associated loosely with the Middle East and with terrorism were "browned." Brown could be seen as "an impurity" or "a mix"; before September 11, 2001, the "browning of America" simply referred to the growing Latino and mixed-race population. After September 11, however, "a less celebratory notion of 'brown' has been operative based on anxieties about public and national safety" (p. 114).