Political Dynasties

After tipping the scale in primaries and caucuses in Florida, Texas, New Mexico, Nevada, California, and others, it is now commonly known that Latinos support the candidacy of Hillary Clinton by an overwhelming margin. No one really knows why. After all, the brown-skinned candidate with an immigrant story and a different-sounding name is Barack Obama, and his campaign has poured untold sums of money into courting the Latino vote. Senator Clinton is not Latina, does not speak Spanish, and never fails to mispronounce the names of her Latino endorsers. Her biggest connections with the Latino community were her campaign manager Patti Solis Doyle, and her husband's appointment of Bill Richardson for two cabinet posts. Solis Doyle resigned early in the race after being singled out as main culprit of Clinton's campaign woes, and Richardson has all but endorsed Senator Obama.

Among those that flat-out reject the idea of a rift between the Latino and the African-American communities, some maintain that Latinos are much more comfortable with political dynasties, and this explains their support for the Clintons. This is always backed by a handful of examples that includes the Somozas in Nicaragua, the Pastranas in Colombia, and the Perón and Kirchner families in Argentina. However, this alleged Latino affinity with political dynasties is nothing but another example in a long list of unsubstantiated myths involving anything south of the Río Grande.

It has been a centuries-old game in the United States to depict Latin America as a disorderly riotocracy where lazy drunk men and receptive women indulge their childlike impulses; a sort of Roger Rabbit’s Toontown to be entered at one’s peril and that stands in stark contrast with the order and reason that prevail in the north; a chaotic amalgam of banana republics ruled by populist ideologues or iron-fisted caudillos. These stereotypes can be more or less fair, but the assertion that Latinos are favorably predisposed towards political families does not stand scrutiny. Comparatively speaking, dynasties in Latin America are a rare exception, rather than the norm. In fact, Latin America’s tumultuous history has worked against political dynasties. That Juán Perón or Néstor Kirchner were followed by their wives surely has little to do with the political culture of a Latino community that has few and thin ties to Argentina.

Latin America is not like the Middle East, where monarchies still prevail. Ruhollah Khomeini, after bringing down one of the world’s most famous dynasties, the Pahlavis, used to speak derisively of Saudi Arabia for being founded by, ruled by, and named after one single family. It is also clearly different from South Asia, where the Gandhis and the Bhuttos are only better known than a string of political families in India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, Indonesia or Malaysia. If there is one country in the American continent that has proved, again and again, that it is perfectly comfortable, if not enthusiastic, with dynasties, that is the United States. Everyone is familiar with the Clintons, the Bushes, the Kennedys, the Roosevelts, the Daleys, the Bakers, the Cuomos, the Doles, the Gores, the Tafts, the Rockefellers, the Jacksons, the Fords, the Romneys, and other dynasties in the making, such as the Bidens and the Carters. That is in the last century alone, leaving out the time of John and John Quincy Adams, when a cluster of political families controlled politics and wealth. According to Stephen Hess, there have been 700 families with two or more members of Congress. Currently, ten percent of Congress has a close relative who has also served in the House or Senate. The Frelinghuysens of New Jersey, for example, have put four senators and two representatives in Congress. Name recognition surely counts for something.

Latinos are not bringing their love for dynasties across the border. If anything, their desire to assimilate to the new environment is overriding their natural impulse to be wary of families that hold on to power for too long.

Obama's Foreign Policy Experience

After twenty wins in coast-to-coast state primaries and caucuses, record-breaking turnout in most contests, and a level of national enthusiasm that threatens to alter the political map of the United States, Barack Obama is still asked in interviews, almost without exception, how can a candidate with such "little foreign-policy experience" be viable or electable in a presidential race. Other candidates receive different treatment. That affirmation, for example, never made it to any question posed to the former front-runner for the Republican nomination, Rudolph Giuliani. Before the collapse of his campaign, Americans could be forgiven for thinking that Rudy was favored by national-security conservatives, who imagined that only America's mayor could beat radical Islam worldwide. And yet Joe Biden, who called Giuliani "the most uninformed person on foreign policy now running for president" was correct, if only a bit unfair. He forgot Mike Huckabee, but then again, no one bothered to say anything at all, good or bad, about Mike Huckabee those days. Huckabee and Giuliani never got the "little foreign-policy experience" bit from interviewers or debate moderators. Obama has to deal with that assumption as a given.

Of course, he handily rejects that notion by reminding his audience that no one had more experience than Cheney or Rumsfeld, or that judgment can be more important than experience. Others point to the Kenyan or Indonesian chapters of his life story. And very few elected officials had the foresight and the courage to speak out against the invasion of Iraq, which would become the biggest strategic blunder of US foreign policy in the last decades. Less noticed is the fact that, before he began plugging his second best-selling book, before he was rumored as a presidential candidate and only C-Span junkies paid attention, Obama spent most of his time in the Senate talking about issues related to foreign policy, and doing so with the command and nuance that one associates with more seasoned legislators. Whether on the Senate's Committees on Foreign Relations, Homeland Security, or Veterans' Affairs, at Darfur rallies, or in conversations about the embargo on Cuba, Obama was at his best when he spoke about foreign policy.

The Clinton campaign accused Obama of being naive and inexperienced on foreign policy when he stated that the United States should strike against selected targets in the tribal areas of Pakistan, provided actionable intelligence and Musharraf's inability to take action himself. Yet Clinton did not protest when a CIA airstrike in Pakistan killed one of Al-Qaeda's top operatives earlier this month, or back in 2005 when a CIA drone took a similar action against another leader of the network, also within Pakistani territory. She did not protest when Ethiopia bombed the Islamists out of Mogadishu a year ago, with help from the United States, or when Turkey repeatedly violated Iraq's northern border to stamp out PKK targets in its Kurdish region. Last September, Israel bombed Syria, unprovoked, in another cross-border attack that did not draw Hillary Clinton's opposition or condemnation. Fortunately, some people have begun to catch up and turn the argument on its head. After another flawed attempt at justifying her vote to authorize the Iraq invasion, Wolf Blitzer, in a rare display of inspiration, asked Senator Clinton: "Are you telling us that you were too naive in believing that George Bush would do the right thing?" She laughed, nervously, and replied without countering: "Nice try, Wolf, nice try." Indeed.