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Rand Paul Ready To Run As His Own Meme

Howard Fineman   |   April 7, 2015    7:41 AM ET

LOUISVILLE, Ky. -- Rand Paul is Kentucky's junior senator and the son of another GOP politician, but when he launches his presidential campaign here Tuesday, he won't dwell on his regional, party or familial roots.

Louisville is the home of one of the most powerful Republicans in Washington, Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell, who has endorsed Paul. But McConnell won’t “Stand with Rand” on Tuesday. He'll be far away in a corner of the state attacking President Barack Obama.

The candidate's father, former Texas Rep. Ron Paul, ran for president repeatedly as a libertarian Republican and still has a dedicated following. But dad won’t speak at the launch, and it wasn’t clear until the last minute that he would even attend.

None of them would aid the message Rand Paul plans to send.

In his pre-launch video, Paul stands alone in front of the camera, an Ayn Randian figure taking on the crushing Washington “machine.” It’s an image made for the stark symbolism of the Internet, for a generation of young adults reared on digital games. It's an image meant to go viral among American voters.

When he announces his bid for the White House, Paul will present himself as -- and try to become -- the first social media-native, crowdsourced candidate for president. He is candidate as meme.

And so, after his announcement with the reporters and the cameras, Paul will go online to host a Q&A on Facebook.

He and his advisers think that this out-of-the-ether-and-onto-the-net-everywhere strategy is both the medium and the message: a digitally distributed way to “disrupt” Big Government.

It’s about who the candidate is and how his campaign is run, as much as about what he says and the policies he espouses. Just as Barack Obama first campaigned for president on the basis of who he was and wanted to become -- “We are the change we have been waiting for,” he famously said -- Paul will try to make the way he connects with voters the point of his candidacy.

Such a strategy could help him avoid discussing certain inconvenient stands and beliefs, such as his doubts about climate change, gay marriage, historic federal civil rights laws and Israel’s role as a special ally of the United States.

It could help distance him from his father’s sometimes squirrely views on topics such as the evils of “fiat” money.

And it could help him obscure his reliance on the kind of old-fashioned, time-honored political dealing that will ensure he can run simultaneously for president and for re-election to the Senate. (Even John Galt needed a job.)

All of this makes a man named Vincent Harris a key player in the pageantry not only of the presidential announcement but of the entire campaign.

Harris is a social media guru from Austin, Texas. He worked for Sen. Ted Cruz (R-Texas), now a presidential candidate too, for three years before switching over to the more purely libertarian world of Rand Paul. Harris' views on the campaign suggest a lot about Paul’s approach to politics and, if he is elected, to governing.

Harris and I talked on the eve of Paul’s announcement:

Are you going to stay based in Austin or, for this campaign, will you be at headquarters?

Austin is one of America's tech hubs. Dubbed "Silicon Hills," it has some of the best entrepreneurial talent in the country. The campaign will be tapping into Austin as well as Silicon Valley talent, and I will travel between the two tech hubs and central campaign.

How do you think that Rand Paul’s campaign is going to break new ground in terms of use of social media, big data, whatever?

It's already been shown that Senator Paul is willing to engage in a different way online. He wants to use digital not to talk at voters but have a two-way dialogue with them. Senator Paul is uniquely positioned in the potential field on both sides of the aisle to be the digital candidate of 2016. I watched him in action at the South by Southwest tech conference. Everywhere he went, people walked up and said they shared his viewpoints. Young, normally complacent 20-somethings were engaged at his speech there.

He is putting together the infrastructure to [break new digital ground] with offices in both tech hubs. Digital will permeate all aspects of the campaign. Fundraising, voter contact, grassroots, all will be driven by digital and a strong centralized database infrastructure.

Around the Super Bowl, the senator asked supporters around the country to print out and create paper footballs called "liberty football" and take a picture with them. People across the country did! And he highlighted them on his social channels. That's the type of digital campaign he will run -- one that empowers supporters and volunteers, who are the most important asset in a campaign after the candidate himself.

So the "launch" of a presidential campaign these days isn't really for the traditional PR, but as a direct organizing tool?

President Obama broke down digital barriers. He blazed a path on how to run a proper digital campaign. Senator Paul will walk down the path and blaze a new one. So much has changed since 2012 and certainly [2008]. Millennial moms are using their smartphones as their primary source of news. How can a politician reach them?

What will be different about Senator Paul is that he wants his supporters to take part in the campaign itself. What objects do people want to buy in a campaign store? Can you help us design graphics? Are you talented at video editing? Here are raw video files -- create your own. Be a brand advocate for the senator. We want to utilize our supporters' talents. That is the modern-day door knocker. That will be Rand Paul's digital volunteer.

Empowering individuals. Decentralization. This is the core of the senator's ideological philosophy and it will play out in this campaign.

The email exchange was edited for length and clarity.

Planet Politics: What The Iran Deal Means For Obama's Foreign Policy Legacy

Howard Fineman   |   April 2, 2015    5:49 PM ET

WASHINGTON -- His hair almost fully gray now, his tone somber but earnestly hopeful, President Barack Obama stood in the White House Rose Garden Thursday and made a case for the centerpiece of his second term, for his vision of how to handle dangerous enemies, and for his own role in history.

This was Obama at his own personal summit, carrying out what he views as his destiny: a coolly practical peacemaker.

Invoking three Cold War presidents -- John F. Kennedy, Richard Nixon and Ronald Reagan -- the 53-year-old Obama, still young by global statesman standards, claimed to have reached, with Iran, a tentative deal for the ages.

In doing so, Obama said, he and his Big Power partners were showing how, in the 21st century, military might is not the only way, or even the primary way, to advance the cause of peace.

At one point, Obama remarked that at the height of an earlier, more dangerous era of confrontation with the Soviet Union, a young President Kennedy had said, “We should never negotiate out of fear, but we should never fear to negotiate.” Kennedy ultimately negotiated, as did Nixon and Reagan in later years. Arms limitation deals arose. The Soviet Union collapsed.

The Iran deal, if and when finalized, will be to Obama’s second term what the Affordable Care Act was to his first: an unforced, high-risk, presidency-defining choice. Once again he is diving into a complex, seemingly insoluble problem. Once again, he risks not only failure but also further division in an already dysfunctional American political system.

His critics took only minutes to begin denouncing the tentative deal. The Republicans who control Congress will almost certainly try to derail it. And even if they act in good faith, they may well modify the deal so severely that Iran will walk away.

There are many reasons to doubt Iran’s intentions -- not least because, as Obama himself acknowledged, Iran continues to deploy terrorists worldwide, build missile systems and use proxies to control capitals like Baghdad, Beirut and Damascus, as well as, now, the country of Yemen.

It’s not just the Israelis who fear Iran. The Arab Gulf states, led by Saudi Arabia, have sectarian and ethnic fears about Shiites and Persians that stretch back a thousand years.

But if there has been one consistent motif to Obama’s public life, it has been his willingness to look for answers that do not begin and end with military force.

It was an anti-war speech about Iraq in 2002 that ultimately allowed Obama to get the inside track on Hillary Clinton in 2008. His pledges to end military involvement in Iraq and Afghanistan were key to his victory in the general election.

The American people wanted the opposite of what they had come to see in President George W. Bush -- a bombs-away “decider” who knew little and cared less about other cultures, and who had no imagination for solutions not military in nature.

Will the Iran deal work? Will it fall apart politically in the U.S.? No one knows, but Obama can perhaps take some comfort from the fact that he has already lived the domestic version of this narrative.

Consider Obamacare.

It was complex beyond measure, with so many interrelated parts that even experts had trouble comprehending it all.

Republicans in Congress hated it, and tried to defeat it any way they could.

Obama had staked everything on the deal, seeing it as the crown jewel of his economic and domestic agenda. He was constantly on the phone with the negotiators. He knew the details.

In the end, Obama won. And Obamacare is working much better than its GOP critics claimed it would.

On Iran, the president is arguing, in effect, that he is even more skeptical than Reagan was in his day. While dealing with Soviet leaders on nuclear arms control in the '80s, Reagan vowed to “trust but verify.”

Obama insists that he doesn’t “trust” Iran at all, and he assures us that the world -- specifically, the International Atomic Energy Administration -- can indeed “verify.”

Well, the Iranians have successfully hidden secret nuclear facilities for years. Now Obama is saying that “a diplomatic solution is the best way” to prevent Iran from doing it again.

It may take many years to know whether Obama is right. But no one should be surprised that he has faith in his own strategy.

The Presidential Bid Of Ted Cruz, The Reddest Meat Of The Right

Howard Fineman   |   March 23, 2015    8:32 AM ET

WASHINGTON -- The audience should have belonged to Sen. Rand Paul. After all, the thousand or so clean-cut millennials in the D.C.-area ballroom were members of Young Americans for Liberty, a student group founded by Paul’s father, former Rep. Ron Paul.

The kids chuckled appreciatively as Rand unspooled his tart, college-dorm-room disdain for government. But he didn’t fire them up. Neither did Utah Sen. Mike Lee, the thoughtful-sounding son of a Reagan-era U.S. solicitor general.

The man who got them cheering, who got them going, who got them roaring with derisive laughter and bubbling with anger at the depredations of liberals was: Sen. Ted Cruz.

Striding the stage like Elvis (if Elvis had been a college debater at Princeton and a brilliant student at Harvard Law), Cruz was the firebrand whom the conserva-geeks wanted to either meet or become.

That was more than a year ago, when the first-term senator from Texas was still in the hard-right afterglow of his bid to shut down the government in a vain (in both senses) attempt to stop Obamacare.

Much of the rest of the country (including Republican leaders in Congress) viewed Cruz as a vaguely scary renegade, and the GOP establishment’s official grumpy grandpa, Sen. John McCain (Ariz.), dismissed him as a “wacko bird.”

But the Young Americans for Liberty loved his loathing of the party elders, and his determination to shove a stick between the spokes of the System.

And it is that emotion -- across-the-board opposition to every “liberal” idea that exists, and disgust with the System in all of its manifestations -- that Cruz hopes to tap for the energy he thinks can somehow lift him to the presidency.

Uncorked anger doesn’t usually win presidential nominations, let alone presidencies. People want hope and uplift in the White House and not just expressions of outrage. The president is the person who is supposed to make things work.

To some, the 44-year-old Cruz gives off a vaguely scary aura of cheerful menace. For now, as Cruz officially announces his 2016 bid, he is nearly an asterisk in the early GOP polls, well behind somewhat less apocalyptic personalities, such as Wisconsin Gov. Scott Walker and former Florida Gov. Jeb Bush.

But there are several reasons to take Cruz seriously.

The first is that his angry approach may fit the times. Even as the voters depend more and more on government and politics -- perhaps for that very reason -- their regard for the machinery of both continues to plummet to new lows.

Cruz doesn’t like either party, and neither do the American people.

And he has the tools with which to attack.

Cruz is a driven, laser-focused character. Even his liberal law professors at Harvard regarded him with a mix of awe and dread.

He was grown in the intellectual petri dish of second-generation combat thinking about conservative strategy, led by the Federalist Society.

Cruz beat the establishment in Texas like a drum. They hate him for it, but he is also going to raise a lot of cash in, yes, Texas.

He is as pure an across-the-board conservative as it is possible to find in what has to be regarded as the big leagues of politics: culturally, fiscally, in monetary policy, in foreign policy.

Cruz is triple 7s on the slot machine of issues: anti-abortion, a global-warming mega-skeptic, to the right of Likud on Israel, anti-immigration to the max, big on defense spending, etc.

He is a libertarian, traditional conservative, war hawk and evangelical Baptist son of a preacher who fled Fidel Castro’s Cuba. There are plenty of philosophical and tactical contradictions in Cruz’s construct, but he ignores them all.

His array of hot-button positions and his hunger combine to make him, on paper, a potential force in the early primary and caucus states, where true believers matter most.

He is an academic star with two Ivy League degrees.

Yet he is making the formal announcement of his candidacy at the Falwell family’s evangelical enterprise, Liberty University in Lynchburg, Virginia.

At Liberty, founded by the late Rev. Jerry Falwell, they don’t teach evolution; they teach what their website calls a “robust, Young-Earth creationist view of Earth history.”

Cruz is an anti-intellectual intellectual, if there is such as thing. And that could be just perfect for the Republican Party of today.

When Wendell Ford Gave A Stemwinder, You Believed

Howard Fineman   |   January 23, 2015    2:56 PM ET

WASHINGTON -- It was decades ago, and I forget whom Wendell Ford had come to Louisville, Kentucky, to stump for. But who the Democrat was mattered less -- it always mattered less -- than that Ford was there to speak on his or her behalf.

"Get ready for a stemwinder," my Courier-Journal colleague Ed Ryan told me. Ryan, who could be a tough character, said this as if talking about a beloved if faintly comical uncle.

The memory rushed back to me Thursday when the word spread that Ford, after a long battle with cancer, had succumbed at the age of 90.

Back then, we gathered in a union hall on a hot autumn day somewhere in Jefferson County. Ford had recently been elected to the first of his four terms in the Senate. Still, it was clear that Washington would never turn this Kentuckian into a sedate, smooth-talking grandee of the Potomac.

He started his speech in a low rumble, making caustic fun of the Republican candidate, whoever that hapless creature was. Then, voice rising, he declared the Democrats’ devotion to the common man. Finally, he let loose a raspy, three-pack-a-day, foghorn blast of testimony in favor of the character and commitment of what’s-his-name.

And he meant every word.

With the faith of a preacher and the urgency of a tobacco auctioneer, Wendell Ford spent a lifetime testifying to the power of politics and government to help ordinary people -- in Kentucky and across America.

He could play nasty, and he could play rough. But one sensed that he never did it to enrich, ennoble, enshrine or empower himself. He did it because he wanted ultimately to do good and do right. And that meant he actually had to accomplish something legislatively and not just talk about it! How rare is that in the spin-drunk politics of today?

This is a case of special pleading, but one of the many reasons I liked Ford is that he always had respect -- strained to near the breaking, I’m sure, from time to time -- for the press. In that sense, I identify him with a time long ago when politicians and reporters were natural antagonists but not mortal enemies, when there was a bond of mutual regard not only for each other’s (sometimes well-hidden) decency, but also for Commonwealth and Country.

I love Kentucky, and Ford had a lot to do with it. Things are more direct there, and openly funnier, and laced with a wry appreciation for the stories you tell on a porch in the late afternoon. Once, journalists and leaders could join in. Not now.

Mitch McConnell is capable of that kind of politics, too. The Senate majority leader is no orator, but the fact that he's from Kentucky gives me hope, perhaps naively, that there is a pilot light of warmth (and perhaps a little Henry Clay-like statesmanship) buried within that frigid character.

My father died young, when I was a young journalist in Kentucky. He was a war vet, a heavy smoker, a Democrat, a lover of politics and history. I saw and heard echoes of him in Ford (which, in retrospect, may have cost me some journalistic distance in covering the senator). Both loved America and believed that the fact they were born and raised here was a blessing beyond words.

The last time I saw Ford give a stump speech was in Lexington in 2010. We were on the steps of the University of Kentucky administration building. The sun was shining on a warm October afternoon. All the local Democratic pols were there, and former President Bill Clinton had made it into town to gin up the crowd for Senate candidate Jack Conway.

After a parade of too-long addresses by other worthies, it was Ford’s job to introduce the former president. Among yellow-dog Kentucky Democrats, this was equivalent to Bach opening for Beethoven, or Patsy Cline for Loretta Lynn.

Frail and stooped but still energetic, Ford got to the podium and began to speak. It was as though nothing had changed in 40 years: the low rumble, the rasp, the foghorn blast -- all bathed in late afternoon sunlight.

Ford reached the crescendo. "When Bill Clinton was president," he thundered, "THE STREETS WERE PAVED WITH GOLD!" Everyone laughed and cheered in unison.

And for a second you believed it, because it was Wendell, and he had just given a stemwinder.

Planet Politics: The U.S. Is Back, But Still Cautious In The World

Howard Fineman   |   January 21, 2015   11:30 AM ET

WASHINGTON -- The speech is, after all, called the State of the Union, not the State of the World. So perhaps President Barack Obama can be excused for dwelling on the American economy in his remarks Tuesday night, and all but ignoring the economic and political crises of the planet.

There was lots of talk about how the U.S. has come back from the Great Recession, and about the president's plan (which the Republican-dominated Congress is likely to reject) to use new government programs and tax cuts to make up for the troubling stagnation of middle-class wages.

But however assertive Obama was about the durability and creativity of the U.S. economy, he had little to say about global matters -- from economics to terrorism to the environment.

And if America is indeed "the indispensable nation" its leaders claim, then Obama needs to be more frank, active and visionary about the world than he was on Tuesday.

There was, to begin with, barely a mention of Paris. The president uttered all the usual boilerplate about tolerance and the essential peaceable nature of religions, but he sounded no new alarms and proposed no new ideas for dealing with a justifiable planetary obsession with terrorism.

This has consequences everywhere, including America, where -- now that the economy is strengthening -- some polls are beginning to show terrorism and national security among the top voter concerns.

The president tiptoed past a lot of topics related to war as we now know it.

Drone strikes are not a foreign policy. No one believes that the U.S. is truly finished with military involvement in Afghanistan and Iraq. And what evidence is there, really, that Iran is bargaining in good faith to give up the nuclear-power status its leaders clearly covet?

Meanwhile, it's difficult to see how the president's "middle-class economics" proposals will counteract the truly injurious aspect of globalized capital -- the relentless downward pressure on wages.

But the man who joined former President George W. Bush in bailing out and protecting the American financial industry will not suggest systemic global reforms. And he didn't do so on Tuesday.

Instead, he pushed for a sweeping new trade agreement with countries in Asia other than China. He surely has geopolitical reasons for doing so (the U.S. doesn't want a Chinese hegemony in the region). But Obama did not mention what the U.S. unions know, that such a deal would be a mixed blessing at best for the very middle class he wants to save.

Finally, of course, there was talk of global warming. On this score, the president offered as evidence of progress his deal with the Chinese to limit carbon emissions -- a welcome development, to be sure.

But if scientists are correct that the odds of catastrophe are soaring higher all the time, then the president had a duty to propose an urgent, sweeping plan on Tuesday -- and to offer to use his newfound confidence to make it happen.

There was surprising swagger in Obama's step Tuesday night. But it surely seemed more impressive to those within the U.S. than those outside of it.

Planet Politics: America's Bloody Conscience

Howard Fineman   |   December 10, 2014    8:21 AM ET

WASHINGTON -- Fourteen years ago, Sen. John McCain took his wife and son with him back to Hanoi, Vietnam, where he had spent six years as a suffering and tortured prisoner of war.

The family stood together in the small concrete cell in which he had lived -- barely -- with broken bones yet unbroken will.

Surrounded by TV cameras and reporters (I was one of the latter), the family gazed solemnly at the scene. The wife and son had tears in their eyes; McCain seemed at times to be fighting back a welling memory of fear, bitterness and fury.

I remembered that scene Tuesday, and wanted to retell it for our readers around the world, as we in Washington tried to digest the contents and deeper meaning of the new report on the U.S. use of torture in the so-called “War on Terror.”

America can be a brutal superpower, especially when -- as rarely happens -- it is attacked. Yet it likes to think of itself as a country with more lofty rules of combat and behavior than the run of imperia that have come before it.

Are Americans really of two minds, one without a conscience and one with?

The answer is yes.

The two sides of the American theory of war-making are etched in McCain’s 78-year-old, battle-scarred face.

He was a daringly cold-blooded bomber pilot, eager to rain down hellfire on Vietnam at the height of a disastrous war there.

The son and grandson of U.S. Navy admirals, McCain’s instincts still run toward the making of war and dropping of bombs, whether on Saddam Hussein or al Qaeda or ISIS.

And yet there is another side to the warrior. He was shot out of the sky over Hanoi and spent six years as a prisoner of war. He was tortured. He was beaten within an inch of his life. Under inhuman duress, he did and said things he regrets.

And when the U.S. Senate’s Democrats released the summary of their report on the widespread use and questionable benefits of torture methods during the Bush administration, it was McCain -- conservative, Republican, friend of the Pentagon -- who rose in the Senate to lament the picture painted in the document.

It showed that the Bush-era use of “enhanced interrogation methods” had "stained our national honor," he said. And he meant it.

It’s easy enough to be cynical about what the Democrats were up to in this report. They wanted to heap retrospective blame on Bush and his cronies. Yet at least some top Democrats knew -- or had reason to know -- that their own cry for blood and retribution after 9/11 would lead where it did.

The Democrats wanted to insulate themselves, and by extension, President Barack Obama. The president may not authorize torture, but he nevertheless is raining down drones in Afghanistan -- drones that kill supposed terrorists and innocent civilians alike.

Bush defenders and the Central Intelligence Agency race to defend themselves, and call Democrats complicit. But supporters of the program not only let things get horribly out of hand, they also covered up efforts to find out the truth of what they did.

McCain’s cry was from the heart. His heart is as American as they come, and full of genuine regret for what we did.

Some commentators here are mystified and infuriated by the airing of this report. Why give propaganda ammunition to our enemies, they ask.

But it is in the American grain for us to publicly question -- eventually -- what we do in the name of war and power. If we seem like hypocrites, so be it. The second-guessing is real enough, and the world should encourage us to do more.

St. Louis Blues: An Old Refrain In Grand Jury Decision

Howard Fineman   |   November 25, 2014    1:39 AM ET

WASHINGTON -- If you know St. Louis, or Missouri for that matter, you know that the family of Michael Brown had no chance, and that police Officer Darren Wilson would go free.

St. Louis is a lovely place, but legally it can be a toxic police mixture of the Midwestern love of social order and Border State race-based severity.

The city is in some ways on the most tremulous fault line in the history of race in America: The home of W.C. Handy and the blues, of Chuck Berry and rock 'n roll, of the Dred Scott court decision on runaway slaves.

Not surprisingly, the Missouri state legislature has chosen repeatedly to ignore a landmark U.S. Supreme Court decision of 1985, which held that a police officer cannot use lethal force against a fleeing suspect unless the officer has reason to believe the suspect is armed and an immediate threat to public order.

Instead, a police officer in Missouri can shoot a person the officer believes to be a fleeing felon. Period. Not to mention that the officer can shoot one who is moving toward him in a threatening manner.

So the real complaint in Missouri on Monday night should not really be with the county prosecutor, however defensive and cloying he may have been in announcing the grand jury's failure to indict the officer who shot the teenager.

It is with Missouri, and America, for thumbs-on-the-scale state laws that the federal government -- from Abraham Lincoln forward -- has only partly ameliorated.

St. Louis is emblematic of the glory and the tragedy of the racial history of which this case is only the latest example. The city was a licentious, anything-goes river town in which the slave trade flourished, and was run in later years by German-American burghers and scions of the slave-holding South who wanted to preserve order, and the Old Order.

At Mardi Gras in St. Louis, there are still clubs severely limited, shall we say, in racial terms.

Some laws are a holdover from those days. They made it easy for the grand jury to return a "no true bill" -- that is, no indictment on any charges -- against Wilson.

Let's face it: In St. Louis, everyone knows who most of the suspected fleeing felons are. They are black. They are from the north side of St. Louis and similar places. It is the way things have worked since the blues began, and barbecue became a thing, and Michael Brown supposedly swiped some cigars. It was the reported theft of them that made the teen a suspected felon and that sealed his fate.

And let's make no mistake: St. Louis is as American, for better and for worse, as a city can get.

Ferguson Smolders After Night Of Fires | Darren Wilson Not Indicted | Photos Of Darren Wilson's Injuries Released | Shooting Witness Admitted Racism In Journal | Darren Wilson's Statement Doesn't Mention Michael Brown | Reactions To Ferguson Decision | Protesters' Open Letter | Prosecutor Gives Bizarre Press Conference | Obama Address Ferguson Decision | Notable Black Figures React | Politicians React | Jury Witness: 'By The Time I Saw His Hands In The Air, He Got Shot' | Al Sharpton Calls Decision 'Expected, But Still An Absolute Blow' | Ferguson Erupts In Protest | Thousands Protest Nationwide | Oakland Protesters Block Freeway, Set Fires

The Good And The Bad Of Obama's Decision On Immigration

Howard Fineman   |   November 21, 2014    1:46 PM ET

WASHINGTON -- To hear David Axelrod tell it, despite all of the political risks of President Barack Obama's sweeping move to end the threat of deportation for more than 4 million undocumented immigrants, the political pros and cons didn't really matter to the president in the end.

The decision, the former White House adviser told me, was more about principle than politics for the mixed-race son of Kenya and Kansas who reveres Lincoln and wants to build a legacy of a tolerant, welcoming American community. Unburdened by the need to run for re-election and reminded daily by immigration advocates of his many promises of reform, Obama acted out of personal conviction and an acute sense of his own role in American history. Think of it as Lincoln Lite.

"The president wanted to keep faith with these people, and he wanted to do right by them," Axelrod said. "There's no hidden motive."

But even if one accepts that narrative for the president's move -- which supporters are comparing to the Emancipation Proclamation -- the decision is a political depth charge that is already surfacing deep, disruptive emotions across the country. Indisputably, it is one of the most consequential decisions of the Obama presidency.

Here's a look at the political balance sheet.


  • Nearly two-thirds of the roughly 11 million undocumented immigrants in the U.S. are Hispanic, and Obama's decision is outreach en masse. In 2012, Latinos voted more than 2-1 for Obama, and health care reform was one of the top issues. Another was the expectation that he would tackle immigration reform. His latest move isn't "reform" per se, but it has been seen by the community as a step in the right direction.
  • Obama's action now creates new real-world conditions that the GOP will find it difficult to unwind, even if they get serious about passing a new immigration law. Some 5 million "mixed status" families can have the chance to live without fear that their loved ones will be sent away. Would the GOP seriously want to frighten them all over again?
  • The White House can make a compelling argument that it is honoring a long American tradition that the GOP claims to hold dear: the preservation of "intact" families.
  • The group with the clearest claim to legal standing to sue Obama would be undocumented immigrants who are excluded by the new policy. Were they to win in court, the administration would then be forced to extend the policy to more people -- the very opposite of what the GOP would want. "That would be an amusing and, some would say, wonderful result," said political scientist John Hudak of the Brookings Institution.
  • The administration's move seems to be on pretty firm legal ground, with officials citing the recent Supreme Court case in which Arizona had sued to compel the president to enforce federal immigration laws to the letter in the state. The court, with Chief Justice John Roberts in the majority, ruled that the state could not dictate federal "enforcement" decisions.
  • Obama and his advisers have good reason to expect the GOP to overreact with a fury that its leadership could find difficult to control. And that could easily result in raw anti-immigrant -- and anti-Hispanic -- reaction by some. At the very least, the issue is likely to continue to divide his GOP opponents, a division that already shows signs of reaching crippling levels.


  • The president has a weak track record on implementing and explaining his massive new programs. His unsupportable assurances about the Affordable Care Act are infamous, and the website's initial rollout was a shambles. In his immigration speech, he made the new rules sound simple, but the implementation will almost certainly be complicated and confusing. Who will do millions of background checks? And how will they be paid for?
  • Overall public support for this move is low, according to a new NBC/Wall Street Journal poll. It found that while 74 percent of those polled support passage of an immigration reform law along the lines of what the Senate approved in 2013, voters disapprove of Obama's unilateral action by a margin of 48 percent against to 38 percent in support. "There is a risk that voters are going to regard this as overreach," said a top White House official, who spoke on background so as not to seem to be publicly questioning the decision. "And sympathy for undocumenteds has diminished somewhat. It isn't as clear cut as it was a year ago."
  • Obama's supporters seem to have a 'go ahead make my day' confidence in the face of GOP criticism, noting the deep divisions among their opponents, who have struggled to make the desired inroads among Hispanic, Asian-American and other minority voters. But the pro-Obama camp risks being too cute by half: A government shutdown over the fate of undocumented immigrants would not necessarily be an easy PR battle to win.
  • The move potentially gives a more prominent platform to Sen. Ted Cruz. It may be shrewd strategy for Democrats in the narrow sense. But do they really want to make a star of a man who compares Obama to a Roman tyrant and appeals to the American public's most raw and resentful emotions?
  • Democrats also need to be careful what they wish for. Brookings' Hudak suggests that while Obama's executive action is on firm constitutional grounds, its size and scope could set an undesirable precedent. There was a time when Democrats were the ones denouncing an "imperial presidency." In Washington, it's been proven that what goes around comes around -- again and again.

Dear World: No, America Is Still Not United

Howard Fineman   |   November 6, 2014    7:34 AM ET

NEW YORK -- It would be nice to think that, after years of ever-deeper anger, division and paralysis, the U.S. government would unite -- out of exhaustion, if nothing else.

It would be nice to think that a humbled President Barack Obama and his emboldened Republican foes would join hands to deal with our obvious public problems: Immigration policy, debt, foreign policy, education, infrastructure.

It would be nice, but it would be wrong.

The prospect for the next two years is one of limited substantive progress, but intense political positioning for, yes, the next election.

If the U.S. were a parliamentary democracy, the government would have fallen as a result of Tuesday’s election.

But in America, with its Newtonian clockwork of dispersed authority, the political losers and the winners are supposed to work jointly and earnestly on a governing agenda.

They rarely do that.

Honoring tradition, the president and the new leader of the opposition, Sen. Mitch McConnell of Kentucky, pledged open minds and hearts and a desire to cooperate.

And there, in fact, may be some new laws on global trade, energy, corporate taxes, and a few other matters. Republicans and Obama may able to assemble a mostly Republican alliance of business-friendly members of Congress.

But on the big, emotional issues -- health care, immigration policy, the seemingly endless “war on terror,” even education policy -- the world should not expect much. The cultural chasms are too deep.

There is no doubt that Obama was sobered, if not humiliated, in this midterm election. One reason is the ebb and flow of American politics. The president’s party almost always loses seats in the sixth year of an eight-year administration.

But this was a drubbing on all levels.

Obama's (liberal) Democratic Party lost control of the Senate to the (conservative) Republicans for the first time in nearly a decade. Republicans strengthened their already strong grip on the House of Representatives. They won governorships in many key states, including Obama’s Illinois. And they won more state legislatures that, among other things, draw the lines for congressional election districts.

There are indeed some factors that favor an effort at cooperation.

The main one is Americans’ collective disgust at the way elections work and the way Washington does not. Voters are smarter than the commercially bizarre way we run elections, and they resent the sloppy, cynical system they live in.

After all, Americans have just survived an election season in which $4 billion -- yes $4 billion -- was spent on TV advertising, in which Republicans tore down Obama as a wimp and a socialist (a confusing combination) and Democrats depicted Republicans as misogynistic predators eager to rip intravenous tubes from grandma’s arm.

Republicans have prospered in the Obama years by trying to block every initiative he has to offer, and then blaming the resulting gridlock on him. This plays into the American myth about the globe-girdling power of the presidency, and it has worked to make Obama look weak.

But they now have an incentive to show that they can be grown-ups as they lay the groundwork for whomever their presidential candidate is in 2016. Successful presidential campaigns don’t win on anger, but on hopeful ideas.

McConnell, soon to be Republican leader in the Senate at age 72, has reason to want a legacy of constructive action.

So those are reasons to think that things will get done.

But there is another side of the ledger.

Republicans have gotten where they are in the last few years by opposing the president at every turn. Why should they stop now?

The activist core of their party remains vehemently antagonistic to Obama, and Republican leaders ignore that at their peril.

The president himself is not the kind of politician who relishes the grimy trading of favors that is at the heart of politics. He thinks in intellectual constructs, and he doesn’t enjoy the game for its own sake.

And American politics as now constructed is a money-drive proposition based on the profits of discord. Campaign consultants make millions; TV stations make hundreds of millions; billionaires are free to throw their weight around like oligarchs in Russia. Parties play to their own extremes to stoke emotion and harvest contributions.

It is as though the seating in the House of Commons were reversed. Instead of facing each other, the parties are facing outward to their most mindlessly steadfast supporters outside the building.

It would be nice to think that that will change, but it won't.

Mitch McConnell Claims To Admire Collegial Leaders, But Can He Be One?

Howard Fineman   |   November 4, 2014   11:50 PM ET

WASHINGTON -- In his Capitol Hill office, Sen. Mitch McConnell (R-Ky.) proudly displays an oil painting of his state’s most famous senator, Henry Clay, “The Great Pacificator” and unifying statesman of 19th century America. But as the 72-year-old McConnell prepares to take over as Senate majority leader, a job he’s spent decades plotting to win, it’s not clear whether he can be -- or wants to be -- another Clay.

McConnell has said recently that the past majority leaders he most admires are two Democrats -- Mike Mansfield of Montana, who moved most of President Lyndon Johnson’s Great Society legislation, and George Mitchell of Maine, who was noted for his diplomatic and collegial style.

On Election Day, McConnell staffers referred me to a speech their boss had made in which he vowed to run a more bipartisan and consultative Senate than now exists. He would be Clay, Mansfield and Mitchell all rolled into one.

Many of his critics scoff at the notion. “Mitch is about one thing,” said Rep. John Yarmuth (D-Ky.). “The accumulation of power.”

McConnell may conclude, however, that he must play the Clay role to consolidate that power.

In philosophy and operating style, the two couldn’t be more different -- at least so far.

Clay was a border-state political diplomat who forged historic deals that held the nation together for decades before slavery and the Civil War tore it apart. He championed an “American system” of federal spending to knit the country together with new roads, canals and other infrastructure. He favored an active role for central government in finance, taxes, banking and tariffs to build the muscles of a continental nation.

If there is a theme to McConnell’s long tenure in the Senate, it’s the contrary: to oppose federal action to deal with domestic social problems, to limit the role of government wherever he can in favor of corporate power, and to feed the fears of those who feel aggrieved by Washington's decisions. On the campaign trail this year, he has vowed to dismantle Obamacare “root and branch,” to unravel environmental regulations on the use of coal and other carbon energy sources, and to curb federal authority over elections, campaign spending, banking and much of the rest of the regulatory state.

But philosophy is just the half of it. Clay was known for his gentle demeanor, his gentlemanly tact and his eagerness to see the world and America from as many sides as possible.

McConnell is personally gruff and aloof, and his syrupy delivery on the Senate floor is often laced with the acid of unremitting partisanship and dismissive scorn for his foes. He makes enemies easily and seems to cherish his resentments. For example, Yarmuth said McConnell refuses to acknowledge him on flights to and from the capital, even though they were once close friends.

Pollster John Zogby recalled an incident years ago when McConnell repeatedly interrupted a polling presentation to the GOP with cries of “Bulls**t!” from the audience. (Zogby’s message, as it happened, was that the Republican Party needed to take a more bipartisan approach to legislating.)

Ironically, McConnell’s partisan ferocity doesn’t impress tea party Republicans, who worked against him in the primary and refused to endorse him. They see him as a fraudulent conservative whose deepest desire is not to pursue an agenda of ideas but merely to defend the establishment he has spent decades trying to control.

McConnell has done his share of bipartisan deals in the Senate, but almost always on his own terms and almost always after he helped create the crisis that he then takes credit for ending.

Now he must keep the peace among potential Republican presidential candidates in the Senate (Ted Cruz, Rand Paul and perhaps Rob Portman), pacify the tea party wing while showing that the GOP is “ready to govern,” deal with the hapless Republican leadership in the House, and even reach out to President Barack Obama, who has reason to be wary.

McConnell has the skill to bridge divides within the GOP in the Senate, and maybe in Congress as a whole. That will be his first challenge. Whether he can speak to the whole country and try to bring Americans together -- and whether he wants to -- will become clear in the months ahead.

Congressman On Voting His Conscience: 'If You Can't Live With Yourself, You Can't Represent The People'

Howard Fineman   |   November 3, 2014    7:31 AM ET

GREENVILLE, N.C. - Before the midterms' tidal wave of cynical bilge recedes, it's worth noting that there are still people in politics who risk it all for the sake of conscience.

Let's be clear: Rep. Walter Jones, Jr., the Republican who represents North Carolina's 3rd District (and who will almost certainly be re-elected on Tuesday), is no saint.

The 71-year-old son of a congressman who also represented eastern North Carolina, Jones, first elected in 1994, is steeped in the political game and in the region's insular, sometimes resentful conservative ways.

And despite his shy, polite demeanor, Jones can be hard-edged. He switched parties to get elected, abandoning generations of Democratic ties. He occasionally appears on radio shows that make Rush Limbaugh's seem like NPR.

Jones is also aligning himself with the nascent presidential bid of Sen. Rand Paul (R-Ky.), in part because he considers himself a close friend of Paul's father, the libertarian renegade and former Rep. Ron Paul (R-Texas).

Still, Jones -- who converted to Catholicism in 1977, and who has been a devout parishioner ever since -- is that unusual congressman who says, convincingly, that his religious faith led him to a dramatic change of position that could have cost him his seat.

The story is familiar to those who closely followed the political course of the 2003-2011 Iraq War. But its most recent chapter has gotten little attention in this year's campaign.

During a recent two-hour interview in his Greenville office, Jones talked about how his faith ended up guiding his view of that war -- and how it now guides his view of what U.S. policy should be in the Middle East, and his view of defense spending in general.

Once a sure vote for all things military, Jones has become deeply suspicious of using force to solve America's problems. And he has broadened his critique to include the corrupting role of money in American politics, and the estrangement of Washington from the rest of the country.

In his eighth decade of life, Jones has become something of a mild-mannered radical.

He has been kicked off a key assignment for the House Financial Services Committee and vows, if re-elected, not to buy his way back into the good graces of the House GOP leadership by promising to raise money.

"I got a little note from one of my Republican friends that I owe the RNC something like $250,000," said Jones. "And you know that that's not an obligation like a bank, but you know, I'm thinking: You kicked me off of a committee!" He said that he "absolutely [would] not" raise the money asked of him.

Representing one of the nation's highest concentrations of military installations, families and retirees, Jones was an early and enthusiastic supporter of the Iraq War in 2003. It was Jones, among others, who suggested that the House cafeteria change the name of french fries to "freedom fries" because of Gallic reluctance to support the war.

But later that year, while attending a funeral in East Carolina for a man killed early in the war, Jones had what he said was a religious revelation: The war was wrong, because this young man had died.

"That was the defining moment," he said. "Was I going to be a man of principle? Was I going to be a man who could admit that I had made a mistake? Or was I just going to continue the political journey of getting along, of being Mr. Nice Guy?"

"I knew I had done the wrong thing," Jones went on. "The funeral, the funeral..."

He said that he felt tremendous guilt. He discussed it with his priest. He began to study more closely the evidence offered to justify the war, and decided that he had been manipulated, and had perhaps been too willing to believe.

At one point in the following weeks, during a meeting with intelligence officials, Jones said, he broke down in tears at the thought that he could have known more, and known it sooner. "Maybe I could have stopped the march to war," he said.

He said that it "took weeks, not months," to announce his change of heart.

Jones now offers to sign letters of condolence to kin of any U.S. military person killed in Iraq or Afghanistan. He does this not only when the deceased is from North Carolina, but for families everywhere in the country. Most families agree to receive one.

"I went through a year of my personality change," he said. "Because of my pain, I had some friends who disagreed with me. But I was very strong in saying that the intelligence had been manipulated, that there was no reason to go to Iraq. Even today I continue to think about the mistake I made. That's why I sign the letters every weekend."

Jones' foes within the GOP -- and there are many -- bided their time waiting for the moment to try to take him out.

The GOP establishment tried it this spring, handpicking and funding Taylor Griffin, a young former member of the George W. Bush administration. Aided by "independent" funding from neocon hard-liners, Griffin came relatively close to defeating Jones, but lost the May primary with 44 percent of the vote to Jones' 53 percent.

Jones now says that while nominally a Republican, he doesn't think of himself as a party man at all.

"When my party is right, I vote with my party. When they are not, I don't vote with them," he said. "That's what gets me in trouble in primaries."

Having survived the challenge from Griffin earlier this year, he is coasting to victory in the general election. He is both agonized and inspired by his experience.

"If you can't live with yourself, you can't represent the people," he said, and sounded like a man praying that he can do both.

10 Things To Know If The GOP Runs The Senate

Howard Fineman   |   October 20, 2014    2:02 PM ET

WASHINGTON -- It’s easy to think that little will change if Republicans win the Senate. They won’t have a filibuster-proof majority. The place is a sinkhole of inaction. Democratic leader Harry Reid and Republican leader Mitch McConnell are withered peas in a pod. Torpor will reign, right?

Wrong. The numbers and images are deceiving. A GOP victory would scramble the higher math of power and policy in the Senate, in the final two years of President Barack Obama’s administration, and in the 2016 presidential race. The earthquake wouldn’t level cities, but it would shake foundations.

Here’s how:

A Deal on Immigration? Many scoff at the notion. “The issue just tears the Republican Party apart,” said Norm Ornstein of the American Enterprise Institute. “It is too divisive for them to touch.” But Sen. Rand Paul of Kentucky, for one, wants a deal. “The president needs a new legacy item, so he might accept less,” the Republican lawmaker told me recently. “I’ll urge our side in the Senate to reach out to him.”

Trade Pacts. There would be a chance for trade deals, produced by a coalition of pro-corporate Republicans (the tea party notwithstanding, that’s still almost all of them) and moderate Democrats such as Sen. Joe Manchin of West Virginia. “I think there is a lot of room on trade,” Paul said.

Probing Panels. Committees amplify the clout of even thin Senate majorities. GOP chairmen would have relatively untrammeled subpoena power. Expect them to use it to bear down on administration officials, highlight shortcomings and give Republican senators with White House hopes some prosecutorial airtime.

Nominations. If President Obama wants to get a new attorney general confirmed -- or judges for that matter -- he might want to focus his efforts on the lame duck session. With Sen. Chuck Grassley of Iowa as chairman of the Judiciary Committee (he’s in line for the job), all bets would be off. Obama's picks could be bottled up in committee and denied a floor vote. Grassley has also expressed an eagerness to launch investigations, which is not good news for nominees involved in controversial matters at the White House.

Old McConnell's Farm. Kentucky’s 72-year-old senior senator has worked for decades to obtain the job that is now within his grasp. If he took over as majority leader, that grasp would become an iron grip. He has vowed, publicly and privately, to stop any bills to raise the minimum wage, strengthen federal guarantees of pay equity or tighten rules on the use of coal. Would a Democratic majority be able to pass such bills? No. Would they even be debated under the GOP? No.

The 2016 Circus. The majority leader controls the floor, and with at least four GOP presidential hopefuls in the Senate, McConnell would play choreographer in the run-up to the 2016 contest. If he wins his own race this November, his Kentucky colleague Rand Paul, one of those hopefuls, will be a key reason. Do they have a deal? While McConnell would be under pressure to remain neutral, Paul could handle the shuttle diplomacy between McConnell’s “establishment” crew and the tea party faction led by renegade Sen. Ted Cruz of Texas.

Ramrod Votes. McConnell decried Reid’s move last year to shield judicial nominees from the filibuster, ensuring they can be confirmed by a simple majority. Would he undo what Reid did? Not clear. But it is clear that he would use special rules for must-pass budgets in order to attach pro-corporate amendments reducing taxes, loosening bank regulation and cutting funding for Obamacare.

The New Fulcrum. There is a slim possibility that the Senate could have four independent members next year, four lawmakers not formally affiliated with the major parties, and they might form a new and unpredictable center of power. Democratic centrists such as Manchin and Sen. Bob Casey of Pennsylvania would also have clout with a GOP majority, and therefore a more influential role. Among Republicans, moderates such as Sens. Lisa Murkowski of Alaska and Susan Collins of Maine would be key votes.

Reid Redux? If the Democrats lose the Senate, will 74-year-old Harry Reid remain as their leader? He’s running for re-election in Nevada in 2016; colleagues would be loath to try to strip him of his title in advance of what will be another tough race. They also like him and respect his political and organizational acumen. But Sen. Chuck Schumer of New York hungers for the top Democratic job, and he is close to the party’s likely 2016 presidential nominee, one Hillary Clinton.

Next Turn. As bad a year as 2014 seems to be for Senate Democrats, early projections show that 2016 could be even worse for the GOP, which will have twice as many Senate seats at stake then. Between now and then, it isn’t likely that voters will have learned to love politics, let alone the Senate. Republicans know their tenure could be brief, so McConnell and Company may tread a little lightly. Or not.

Remember The Fresh Promise Of Barack Obama? What Happened To That Guy?

Howard Fineman   |   October 13, 2014    7:39 AM ET

WASHINGTON -- While traveling recently, I’ve been asked the same question in Beijing, Auckland and Rome: “What happened to Barack Obama?”

This really is several questions: What happened to that fresh, idealistic guy? What happened to his power and popularity in the United States? Why doesn’t he dominate the political stage the way he once did? Why isn’t he as effective as we thought he would be?

Some answers:

The Middle East. The region that initially made him look wise now makes him look, at best, confused. His promise to end what turned out to be a nine-year war in Iraq helped win him the presidency. But while Osama bin Laden is gone, the Islamic State terrorizes people in his place. And the president who won a Nobel Prize for idealistic aims is raining bombs on Syrian territory and resisting calls to put “boots on the ground.”

Words Matter. Trained as a lawyer, Obama should be aware of the uses of ambiguity. But he makes sweeping declarations that damage his credibility. He assured all Americans that his health care plan would allow them to “keep their doctor.” It wasn’t quite true. He declared that if Syrian President Bashar Assad crossed a “red line” and used chemical weapons, the U.S. would respond severely. He did and we didn’t. Obama said that Ebola was “highly unlikely” to come to America; two weeks later a victim died in Dallas.

Sky-High Expectations. Obama arrived on the stage with Kennedy cool, youthful optimism, Ivy League credentials and self-evident proof that America was overcoming its "original sin." His life story was a triumph of multiracialism and internationalism. By his very nature, he would end wars, make peace with Islam, help the downtrodden and save the U.S. and world economy. These expectations (which he did his best to stoke) were impossible to meet. He hasn’t met them. No one could.

The Internet. Obama’s rise was meteoric even by American standards. The reasons in part are digital. He is the first viral “personal brand” in the White House. But politics are even more fickle in the age of Facebook, Twitter and Instagram -- and more fragmented. Obama succeeded six years ago by blazing new pathways around “centralized” media. But now he finds it harder to command attention amid the digital cacophony. The Internet has gone on to other brands and other trends.

The Economy. Obama’s record here is more solid than critics and even some friends admit. His calm support for early bailouts helped prevent catastrophe. His “stimulus” worked somewhat. His team has kept the U.S. economy better positioned than most to compete (and cooperate) with China. Obama’s health care plan, though raggedly implemented, has aided millions and placed needed regulation on insurers.

He got re-elected in 2012 on this record, but still did not win enduring support. Why?

Because the rich have gotten richer while the middle class stagnates. Productivity rises; real wages do not. Obama’s unspoken message is, “Without me, it would have been worse.” He’s right, but it’s hardly an inspiring slogan.

Washington. Obama promised to end government dysfunction. He didn’t. One reason is structural: The U.S. president, however charismatic, is not a party boss, prime minister or king. Our founders divided the power, and it remains divided.

Republicans made it even harder for Obama. New presidents used to get a “honeymoon.” He did not. On the day he took office in 2009, Republicans met to plot his political demise and emerged with a public vow to make him a one-term president.

Race. Americans debate whether, and to what extent, race is a factor in Obama's difficulties. A quality that made him inspiring to so many -- the first African-American in the White House -- makes him a dangerous figure to some. Those who deny that race is a factor at all do not know America. Those who claim that race is everything do not know America, either.

Competence. Obama has avoided a dramatic, Katrina-like administrative catastrophe, and his tenure has been relatively free of venal corruption. But everyday management is another matter. The rollout of his sweeping new health law was a mess, enforcement of border security has been spotty and the initial response to the Ebola outbreak was slow and low-key. The metastasizing Ebola threat could come to dominate the last two years of his term.

Obama Himself. Fiercely proud and self-assured in public, Obama is also cautious and wary. He favors complexity over simplicity. Praised all his life for his gifts and path-breaking accomplishments, he is used to being respected even if he isn’t beloved. He likes to put others at ease and does not seek confrontation. He has climbed the greasy pole through charm and timing more than chesty combat.

His thoughtful, soothing, hopeful nature got him elected. It also made him disdainful of Congress and of unpleasant political realities in general. He brought his own coterie with him from Chicago and the 2008 campaign team, and he still mostly stays cocooned within it. He has not made many friends in Washington -- or bitter personal enemies, for that matter -- and he doesn’t seem to care.

But the world is under siege today, making it easy to conclude that ferocity and confrontation are required. His leadership will be tested in his last two years in office as never before. The U.S. does not lead the way it once did, but its role remains central and indispensable. “What happened to Obama” in the past matters much less than what happens to him now.

Howard Fineman   |   October 8, 2014    8:23 AM ET

WASHINGTON -- Coal miners used to take canaries with them underground, where a dying bird would signal the presence of poison gases.

In Kentucky’s Senate race, Democrats think the “canary in the coal mine” for Mitch McConnell might be the arrival of right-wing activist James O’Keefe.

A proudly unscrupulous provocateur, O’Keefe uses hidden cameras and fraudulent identities to try to entrap liberals in compromising videos. He recently sent a crew to search for dirt on the Republican senator’s challenger, Democratic Secretary of State Alison Lundergan Grimes.

O’Keefe didn’t find much: a bland, secretly recorded video of low-level Grimes organizers chatting cynically about whether their candidate really was committed to the coal industry.

Neither Grimes not any of her top aides are on the tape or anywhere near it. It’s not a smoking gun; it's not really even a gun.

McConnell top aide Josh Holmes told The Huffington Post that his boss’s campaign did not know O’Keefe’s team was in the state, let alone coordinate with them in any way. “No and no,” he said.

But Democrats suggested out loud that the videographer's presence was a sign of desperation on the other side.

“They are going to try every trick in the book,” said Grimes campaign manager Jonathan Hurst. “This is a dead-even race, and McConnell and his people know that it is.”

That is open to debate.

McConnell has history, big-data geeks and the Beltway pundits on his side as he enters this stretch of the race against Grimes. Everyone says that McConnell remains a relative lock to win on Nov. 4 -- a victory that could enable him to achieve his long-held dream of becoming majority leader of the U.S. Senate.

In fact, he’s won five races in a row and has the number-crunched historical stats with him. President Barack Obama lost big in Kentucky in 2012. Grimes has not impressed observers with the depth of her knowledge of the issues.

So the Kentucky contest is off most lists of pivotal races that will decide which party wins the chamber, in favor of tossups such as Colorado, Alaska and Iowa and other races such as Louisiana, Arkansas, New Hampshire and North Carolina.

But a month until Election Day, the reality on the ground in Kentucky isn’t aligned with a narrative of sleepy inevitability.

McConnell is slightly ahead in composites of the public polls, but the senator has not opened up the expected late, large lead in the race that would cause donors to write it off.

With a sense of urgency if not desperation, the senator and his “independent” big spending allies are dumping huge amounts of cash into the race, with six new ads going up in the last week and a megaton of buys aimed at dominating TV, cable and radio airwaves from Pikeville to Paducah.

Having outspent Grimes and her allies by more than 2-1, anti-Grimes forces may well double that margin between now and Nov. 4.

McConnell’s advertising, and that of his allies, has focused almost entirely on the unpopularity in Kentucky of Obama, who lost the state in 2012 by 18 points.

The latest GOP ads throw standard-issue xenophobia into the mix, conflating Grimes and Obama on immigration policy -- even though she has had nothing to do with it as secretary of state, and even though there is no flood of undocumented immigrants inundating the Bluegrass State.

And yet Grimes refuses to go away, largely because there seems to be a low ceiling on McConnell’s support as a 30-year incumbent who has never been personally popular nor stood for much besides opposing Democratic ideas.

“Mitch can’t get above 47 percent, and that means he can’t win if Alison can make the sale about why she should replace him,” said Rep. John Yarmuth of Louisville, a close Democratic ally of and adviser to Secretary Grimes.

Although McConnell has pounded away on themes designed to secure the vote of white men in Eastern and Western Kentucky, he hasn’t built huge margins among them, according to Al Cross, a veteran political reporter who now teaches at the University of Kentucky.

Recent polls suggest that Grimes has closed some of the gap among men in rural, small-city Eastern and Western Kentucky, said Cross, who has studied crosstabs of recent polls.

One reason is a widely run ad showing a ruddy-cheeked Grimes confidently shooting skeet and condescendingly lecturing her rival on how to handle a gun. The ad played up Grimes’ sales pitch as an outdoorsy Kentucky thoroughbred who grew up with horses, rifles and basketball -- running against a pallid habitué of Washington meeting rooms and big-donor corporate ballrooms.

“It’s that gun ad,” said Yarmuth. “A lot of her supporters in Louisville didn’t want her to run it, but that is who she is,” he said.

Cultural marketing aside, Grimes has aimed most of her campaign messaging at women, focusing on issues such as gender equality in pay, reproductive rights and health care. Perhaps her No. 1 issue is raising the minimum wage -- a clear and popular message in a poor state.

The pay equity and minimum wage issues appeal to men as well, since most of them live in two-income homes.

Whether any of that will put Grimes over the top -- still a long climb -- is unclear. Perhaps her last clear chance comes next Monday in Lexington, where she’ll take part in an hour-long “conversation” with McConnell moderated by the state’s public TV station.

Grimes will enter that event with a better chance to pull off the upset of the year than most would have thought possible.

“The other side has pounded us for months and we are still here, right up there with Mitch,” said Grimes manager Hurst.

That may not be enough in the end, but it is enough for now.