Jeb’s Last Stand

Bedford, N.H.

People want to like Jeb Bush. At least 700 folks packed into McKelvie Middle School this morning—most of them there a good 45 minutes before the candidate was expected to arrive. It was a real crowd, with another 200 or so overflowing outside the school. And that’s not counting the hundred or so reporters on hand hoping to rubberneck at what has been a not great week for the candidate.

What they get is vintage Bush, in just about every respect.

Lindsey Graham comes out first, followed by Tom Ridge—who embarrassingly says “let’s talk about electing George Bush president!” before catching himself. Ridge introduces George P. Bush, who most observers expect to battle Tagg Romney for the 2028 Republican nomination. For his part, George P. says of his dad, “He’s a grinder. He’s going to see this through to the very end.” Which sounds as much like a threat as a promise. He also says that his dad is so tenacious that, as a kid, his father never let him win at board games. The Bush households—all of them—must have been interesting places to grow up.

When Jeb Bush finally wades into the crowd, he’s noticeably high-energy. He stands in the center of the cafetorium (one of the most abhorrent terms in the English language) in a blue sweater and speaks for 17 minutes before submitting himself to an hour of questions from the audience, which seems, on the whole, pretty impressed with the candidate.

About his competition, he is surprisingly negative. He goes after Ted Cruz and Marco Rubio early and often, calling them “great speechifiers.” He says “we’re not running for back-bench of the United States Senate; we’re running for president of the United States.” He says, over and over, that other people in the race haven’t accomplished anything. By inference, he attacks Chris Christie for blaming FEMA in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy. He calls Donald Trump’s proposals “not serious.” He says of Trump, “That guy needs therapy.” The only candidate with real New Hampshire support Bush doesn’t take shots at is John Kasich. It’s not clear why the Ohio governor is spared; his numbers are at least as much a threat to Bush (at least in the near term) as anyone else.

Some assorted thoughts on Bush’s performance:

* One wonders how effective the comparisons of Rubio to Obama are. After all, Republicans might not like Obama’s accomplishments, but liberals are thrilled with them. Seen by liberal lights, Obama was spectacularly effective as president. If you offered most Republicans the chance to have a conservative version of the Obama years, I suspect they’d take that deal in a heartbeat.

* One of the other knocks on Rubio (and to a lesser extent, Cruz) is that he sticks closely to his scripts. Fair enough. At the Bush event, the governor was asked the single best question I’ve ever heard at a town hall: A woman stood up and asked Bush what he would do to reform not just the VA hospital problems, but the VA’s bureaucracy. And she then proceeded to detail her father’s travails with the VA. She recounted billing problems and reimbursement problems. Then she explained how the VA issued her father a death certificate—the room got very quiet here—before turning to her dad and noting that he’s still very much alive. It took them nine months to convince the VA that her father wasn’t dead. During which his Social Security was cut off—because of the death certificate—but in which his VA prescriptions, amazingly, kept being issued and filled. This wasn’t a rant: The woman told the story beautifully and the room laughed along with her the entire time. She brought the house down.

Served up this gem, Bush talked about the outdated technology of the VA, then pivoted to talking about his book Reply All, and then went on to detail how went after deadbeat dads and reformed the child-support system in Florida. Then he attacked the senators running against him: “If you’ve never done anything, if you’ve never managed something, if you’ve never led . . . then you just cast it onto some staffer . . . make sure you’re looking good in the polls.” In other words: script.

* Governors have traditionally been strong presidential candidates. But one of the traps of being a governor is getting stuck living among the things you did back in your state. These accomplishments—which might be very real—often don’t translate to the presidential level. For example, Bush was asked about student debt and in the course of his answer talked about how he used state lottery proceeds to incentivize colleges to graduate kids on time. There is no federal lottery system. For another example, Bush talked quite a bit at how effective he was at using Florida’s line-item veto. The president does not have a line-item veto—it was declared unconstitutional in 1998.

* We’re three days away from New Hampshire voting and Bush still hasn’t figured out a way to talk about the dynastic aspect of his campaign. Asked about it, he replies, “I’m blessed. I got no problems with this. And people that do, they either need to get therapy themselves or realize that we can change the course of this country working together to solve problems.” This response seems both uncharitable and unlikely to change the minds of people who might be unsettled by the prospect of a third President Bush.

* In an oblique attack on Trump, Bush says, “We need someone who is not driven by his own ego and ambition. . . . We’re not a get-in-line crowd.” None of the Bushes ever displayed much sense of irony.

* That said, Bush isn’t terrible. He’s perfectly competent on the stump. Had he run in 2012, he would have given Mitt Romney a real challenge.

But in truth, Bush seems more suited to 2000—before Bush v. Gore; before 9/11; before Barack Obama. “We’re on the verge of the greatest time to be alive,” he says. And: “The smaller government gets, the broader the possibilities of all of us interacting amongst ourselves—creating more possibilities, more prosperity, more benefits, more love, more compassion than any government program ever created. That’s what I believe.”

These messages seem as if they’re from a bygone age. Back in 2000, a lot of people felt that we really were on the verge of the greatest time to be alive. I would curious to know what percentage of the country—of either party—believes that today.

* Bush’s best moment of the town hall came toward the end. It was a question about how he would help people with disabilities as president and he told the story of what he did as governor to end the warehousing of mentally disabled folks, getting them into group homes, and into the workforce. He was clear, detailed, passionate. It showcased the best of conservatism and the best of Bush.

Like his entire campaign, it was a glimpse of what might have been.

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