Many politicians know what it's like to wield power and perhaps to indulge themselves in delusions of grandeur. But Republican leaders heading to Tampa for their national convention know how it feels to be a pharaoh. Unfortunately for them and their standard bearer Mitt Romney, it's the Pharoah who faced the Biblical plagues. Instead of locust, boils and other divine disasters, the Republicans are being tormented by stinky seaweed, Tropical Storm Isaac, Paul Ryan's "Medi-scare" plan, Romney's birther joke and, of course, Todd Akin's infamous lecture on legitimacy.
Like the Pharaoh who paid dearly for ignoring Moses when he said "let my people go," the Republicans could have seen these plagues coming from a long way across the desert. So maybe the sudden invasion of foul smelling sea greens on Tampa Bay beaches – too bad for the New York delegation that is staying on the sands of Clearwater — was unpredictable. But bringing 50,000 people to Florida during the hurricane season? Choosing a vice presidential candidate most famous for plans to gut – OK, restructure — Medicare when you're about to spend a week in the retirement capital of America? Hello?
And then there's Missouri Senate candidate Todd Akin and his peroration about which rapes are "legitimate." During a week that the parties traditionally turn from placating the extremists who dominated the primaries to appealing to moderates who decide close elections, Akin reminded millions of these swing voters – especially women — why they've abandoned his party for a generation. According to a number of Hofstra University National Suburban polls, suburbanites overwhelmingly support abortion rights and raising taxes on the wealthy and reject even modest cuts in social programs. In other words, they don't feel warm and fuzzy about what the GOP stands for.
Intolerance, as well as extremism, is hardly limited to the GOP. But Akin's voting record has been barely indistinguishable from the average GOP House member – and convention-goer. And try as they might to distance themselves from him and his remarks, the party has been playing with electoral fire by encouraging people like Akin and their policies. (Akin once called a prescription drug plan for seniors a communist plot and likened the public schools to socialist training grounds.) Like Tropical Storm Isaac, Akin has been a disaster waiting to happen.
Convention-goers in Tampa will have more to worry about than losing their funny hats in high winds. In an era when conventions have drawn less and less interest and the parties have sought to squelch any real drama from every scripted second, the Republicans are now guaranteed a far more attentive viewership – like disaster junkies who root for swirling hurricane simulations on the Weather Channel. When the convention showcases Ann Romney and three rising female party stars, the commentary won't be about the GOP's progress promoting women. It will be about how the party's policies on abortion and other "reproductive rights" – agree with them or not — has alienated many women.
Even before VP wannabe Paul Ryan takes the stage in Tampa, his positions on Medicare and other "safety net" programs became a media discussion that has frightened millions of elderly, when the campaign clearly wanted it to be about fresh faces, jobs and the general economy.
On Friday, the self-summoned plagues just kept on coming. On a day that Romney and his wife were "reintroducing themselves to the America people" in the run-up to the convention, he adlibbed a joke that pandered to "birthers" who believe Obama wasn't born in the U.S. Even if you thought it was funny, the joke reflected a lack of discipline and judgment that shifted the story of day to a subject that makes moderates' eyes roll and Obama's supporters angry. So much for creating a new image.
This is not how you want to take the national stage. And it matters for more than just the presidential candidates.
What happens in Vegas may stay in Vegas. But the same can't be said for Tampa and Charlotte, the site of the Democratic convention next week. What happens in these cities could shape not only the campaign for president but races lower down on the ticket. And since New York State has an unusual number of competitive congressional contests, in which the focus will be on national issues that dominate a presidential nominating convention, candidates for the House will be watching carefully.
Like Tampa Bay residents in the path of Isaac, some New York Republicans already are preparing for the potential damage. Some, like fellow Democratic congressional candidates, are staying home.
Take Rep. Chris Gibson, R-Kinderhook, who two years ago won in a Capitol Region district that was among the state's most conservative. One of the first major votes Gibson took was to back House Budget committee chair Paul Ryan's austerity budget, which would have cut taxes for the wealthiest and services for the poorest to levels unseen almost since FDR's New Deal. This year, however, after his district was gerrymandered to be much more competitive and his fate fell to moderate swing voters, Gibson went against Ryan's budget for a bipartisan alternative that garnered him kudos for political courage, as well as criticism for opportunism.
And last week, Gibson refused to join those in his party who swooned over Ryan's anointment. He didn't exactly call Ryan a plague, but his remarks were tepid at best. And he used media opportunities as a chance to remind people that he did not support Ryan's signature legislative proposal. Gibson also refused to vote for rescinding funding for NPR, which many Republicans consider left-leaning.
If Gibson should brave the political (and very real) winds and fly to Tampa, where many House members will be showcased on the first day, he'd better look out for more than rotting seaweed and a bad boy named Isaac. This week it could be a dangerous place for any Republican running in a district that isn't as red as that first Biblical plague, blood.
Lawrence C. Levy is executive dean of the National Center for Suburban Studies at Hofstra University. This is the 11th national political convention he has covered as a reporter and columnist. His e-mail address is lawrence.levy@hofstra.edu.