U.S. presidency: obsessed with identity 

Gary Younge | The Hindu | 24 July 2007

http://www.hindu.com/2007/07/24/stories/2007072454370900.htm

Nicole Goodwin fought in Iraq only to come back to New York two 
years ago and find herself homeless. She walked the streets for 
several weeks, from shelter to shelter, with her one-year-old child, 
Shylah, strapped to her chest and their worldly possessions strapped 
to her back and crammed into a pram.

"What America thinks of as freedom and what I think of as freedom 
are two different things," Ms. Goodwin told me at the time. "I want 
to get a house, day care and go to college. My freedoms are small. 
But I can't give up ... The ideals of this country are that anybody 
could come back to America and make a better life ... It's a land of 
opportunity. In this country alone, if you put forth the effort, you 
can bear fruit."

At its heart the American dream has always been the triumph of 
possibility over probability — the idea that anyone could do 
anything trumps the reality that the overwhelming majority have only 
limited choices. Hope defeating cynicism and often masquerading as 
delusion.

Stark contradiction 

That contradiction seems most stark when displayed on the chests of 
young black boys with T-shirts announcing: "Future President of 
America." In a country where every President has been a white man 
and, at current rates, one in three black male babies born in 2001 
are destined to go to prison, a more realistic T-shirt would 
read: "Future inmate of Riker's Island." But who would want to dress 
their child in that? When the probabilities are so bleak and the 
possibilities so remote, hope and delusion can start to look like 
two sides of the same coin.

But if the polls are anything to go by, then those T-shirts may 
finally come into their own next year. Hillary Clinton leads the 
Democratic field with the black Illinois Senator, Barack Obama, 
mounting an impressive challenge in second place. The most recent 
surveys show that if you pit either one against any of the 
Republican candidates, Ms. Clinton or Mr. Obama would win.

The symbolic importance of such a victory should not be denigrated. 
According to the Inter-Parliamentary Union, the U.S. stands 67th in 
the world league tables for political representation for women. Less 
than half a century ago, black Americans endured certain humiliation 
and risked death just so they could vote. Both Ms. Clinton and Mr. 
Obama stand on the shoulders of giants. Their personal achievements 
are their own. But without the collective struggles of civil-rights 
activists and feminists, their talents could never have taken them 
this far — a fact they both recognised in Selma, Alabama, in March.

But it should not be overestimated either. What they are should not 
be mistaken for what they might do. It's neither their race nor 
gender that makes them progressive — it's their agenda. There is no 
suggestion that either of their platforms will benefit the lives of 
black people or women any more than those of some of their 
Democratic counterparts.

Their victory would give them the keys to the White House. But there 
is little evidence to suggest that other women and black Americans 
would be following them in, for the same reason that Tiger Woods' 
ascent has not produced more black golfers. The symbolic achievement 
is the proof that such things are now possible; the substantive fact 
is that, for the time being, they remain improbable. This is not an 
argument against supporting either candidate; it's a case against 
supporting them for the wrong reasons. Symbols are important, but 
they should not be mistaken for substance.

The viability of both candidates at this time is no coincidence. The 
optimism that drives the American dream has stalled and needs a 
jumpstart. Just a third of people believe the country's best days 
are yet to come — the most pessimistic results yet, according to 
pollsters at Rasmussen. The number of those who believe the U.S. is 
viewed unfavourably in the rest of the world has more than doubled 
since 2000, and now stands at 54 per cent.

More than two-thirds think the country is on the wrong track. And 
when it comes to setting it right, they have little confidence in 
the nation's political class. President George W. Bush struggles to 
keep his approval ratings above 30 per cent; support for the 
Democratic-led Congress is not even that high.

The more elusive substantial change appears, the more attractive 
symbolic advances become. Having a woman and a black man in the 
running helps restore the nation's self-image as the home of 
opportunity and unstoppable progress. "It's the old idea that anyone 
can grow up to be President," wrote Michael Kinsley in Time 
recently. "Not just that, but that even at age 230, we are still 
young enough and flexible enough to be expanding our notion of who 
we me an by `anyone.'" That notion now includes "anyone," of any 
race and either gender, with access to tens of millions of 
dollars. "Anyone," in other words, still refers to a tiny minority.

That doesn't stop the commentariat going into overdrive. They gush 
about Mr. Obama's "post-racial candidacy" as though Hurricane 
Katrina never happened, and question whether Clinton can 
balance "tough" and "tender" as though feminism never happened.

Earlier this year, a CBS interviewer asked Mr. Obama, who was raised 
by his white mother and grandparents: "At some point, you decided 
you were black?" 

But then, such crude emphasis on identity was always a dead end to a 
dangerous place. If the advancement of black people and women is all 
you're after, why not go for the double whammy and start a write-in 
campaign for Condoleezza Rice?

For all its fulminations about affirmative action, the Right can 
play this game just as well — if not better — than the Left. In 
January 2005, a Texas Republican Senator, John Cornyn, introduced "a 
man from Humble, Texas." "The son of migrant workers, his childhood 
home was built by his father and uncle," crooned Mr. Cornyn. "As a 
child, he sold soft drinks at Rice University football games — where 
he dreamed of one day going to school. [He] is the first person in 
his family to go to college."

Mr. Cornyn was introducing Alberto Gonzales at his confirmation 
hearings to be the first Hispanic attorney general. By then Mr. 
Gonzales had already referred to the Geneva conventions as "quaint" 
and "obsolete." He is currently embroiled in a scandal after firing 
a number of district attorneys, some of whom were shown the door 
because they would not tighten voter registration laws that would 
exclude more Hispanics. With enough cynicism, even torture and 
disenfranchisement can be coated in the American dream.

But to gain a true sense of what is possible in America, one should 
look no further than Mr. Gonzales' boss. The C-student, former 
alcoholic, and failed businessman who displays not a scintilla of 
charm, charisma or oratorical flair. The man whose big idea for 
fundraising when he started out in politics was: "Have your mother 
send a letter to your family's Christmas-card list! I just did, and 
I got $350,000." If Mr. Bush can be President, then surely "anyone" 
can.

Guardian Newspapers Limited 2007 



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