Dakis Hagen: Forget Palin: The GOP Won't Repeat the Magic of Denver

by Dakis Hagen [courtesy of Politics on HuffingtonPost.com]

It was fiesta in downtown Denver last night. Thousands stood on the streets, and huddled in bars; children sat on parents' shoulders, teenagers milled around in groups next to elderly relatives in wheelchairs. There was noise, dancing, street food and beer.

But at 8 pm local time the hubbub dissipated to a hush. All eyes searched for the nearest television screen. The crowd now knew the format; the homely images of the visual intro would herald the entry of the last DNC primetimer: the one for whom they had all waited.

To the foreign observer without a vote, Obama's speech was a master class. In soaring tones that would have been tricky to replicate in Europe without sounding silly, Obama identified and addressed the primary concerns of voters in Western democracies - jobs, healthcare, oil, education and security. These were not the fashionable issues of a metropolitan dinner party; they were everyman problems. He gave policy and personal detail; he avoided being too negative towards McCain.

It was stunningly, rousingly good stuff.

But the reaction of the crowd in the streets was the more remarkable experience for this foreigner. Viewers were shouting in adulation at the screens (not that fake whooping seen on Oprah); there were tears; strangers embraced each other.

Now, in Britain, we consider Americans to be a rather sentimental bunch (Britons don't whoop, thank goodness), but there was a touching authenticity in what I saw that evening. Not only did Obama appear to believe his own words - surely a golden commodity in a politician - but those observing did too.

The love-in being too much for our temperaments, a fellow Brit and I mischievously looked for Republicans. Repubs don't wear uniform (although I'm sure many would like to) and they were hard to identify amidst the Democrat euphoria.

It took a surprisingly short time. Not far from the railway station where crowds had gathered, two young women in "Nobama" T-shirts sidled past. They didn't like Obama, they explained, because of abortion and gay rights. One wanted homosexuality banned, because it would help gay people be "normal". I looked for the candid camera - no, she really believed what she was saying. Nearby was a man holding a placard which said "End term limits: give Bush another 4 years". Why? Because, he claimed, the "hippies" should "go home".

Earlier in the day, we had searched in Denver for the mythical Republican rapid reaction bunker. It had taken some finding, including several phone calls and a bit of a drive.

But it was there: an eerie place with no windows to the road; it felt like the setting for the denouement of a Hollywood action movie, the place where the hero kills the bad guy's henchmen in a gory apocalypse. The Republicans in it were young, articulate, polite and desperately relaxed about Obama; well this is the Democracts' week, was the mantra. I detected despondency.

The more educated wing of the GOP represented by these types are, in the world post-Rove, locked in a Faustian pact with the nutters we met on the street, forcing the party to the right, and the Christian right at that, on every issue. This unholy alliance has destroyed the intellectual consistency of Republicanism: the party of small government apparently thinks government should intrude into the sex lives of citizens.

This malaise was illustrated, not challenged, by the choice of Gov Sarah Palin as McCain's running mate today. The appointment of a relative unknown with less than two years' gubernatorial experience in a state with a population smaller than a small English county, geographically cut off from the rest of the country, smacked of tokenism. Dreadfully for the Republicans, it will highlight, not question, the image (accurate or otherwise) that they are the poor relations of Democrats when it comes to promoting women to senior positions; Palin's selection begs the question, is she all they have?

But, while the GOP may struggle to find its voice, there was no confusion on the streets of Denver. Everywhere was confidence. In one after-party, the superstar Will.i.am, leading the Black Eyed Peas, stood at the front of the stage rapping Obama slogans. The crowd cheered madly. "I am voting, are you?" came the staccato. "Yes!" screamed the crowd.

I had never seen a political event like it. And I knew it was not just me: Two other Brits there, one from a US media organisation and the other Ben Gummer, a parliamentary candidate, were completely dumbstruck. The enthusiasm around us differed even from the giddy cult of Blair in the late 1990s (the closest modern equivalent to Obamania) because the Labour party grass roots never really liked Blair. As with the GOP and the Christian right, the alliance between the British left and the free-market Blairites was a Faustian pact of its own, one now unravelling for Gordon Brown in slow motion catastrophe.

But here in Denver, even those Democrats suspicious of Obama had fallen for him, and were united. Here was a nominee propelled not by the political resonance of his color or sex, but by the authenticity of his beliefs and the brilliance with which he communicated them. Palin may (who knows?) also turn out to be brilliant, but Republicans should be unsurprised if voters conclude that the reasons for her selection were both cynical and desperate.