Republican presidential candidate former Massachusetts Governor Mitt Romney (Credit: Salon/Reuters)
If there is one single impediment to Mitt Romney’s campaign, it is his utter inscrutability, his perplexing failure to schmooze with voters. Romney is seen by many as hollow, robotic, as stiff as his hair-sprayed coiffure.
But to me, Mitt Romney isn’t stiff. He’s just a Mormon.
I know, because I grew up in Ogden, Utah, a city of about 83,000 people, 60 percent of whom are members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. (I’m not one.) Though Romney was raised in suburban Detroit, he seems a product of Ogden’s Mormon milieu — a town lodged firmly in the 1950s, where homeowners leave their doors unlocked at night, teenagers cruise the boulevard, or “vard,” on weekends and packs of Mormon men comb the neighborhoods after windstorms to clear away fallen branches.
Like Romney, with his habit of saying “gosh,” the Mormons in my high school subbed their curse words — hell was “heck,” anything stronger was “fudge” or “freak.” Romney speaks with the classical Mormon accent, dropping his t’s and g’s, turning “Washington” into “Washinton” and “enterprise” into “enerprise.” He even dresses like a Mormon, wearing the dark suit, white button-down shirt and red or blue tie of the return missionary, or “RM” in Utah parlance. And while Romney may not stand out from the Republican pack for his sartorial taste, to any Mormon he is riffing on the missionary motif.
Romney vacillates when it comes to talking about Mormonism on the campaign trail, alternately playing it down as a private matter and emphasizing his devotion to his “faith” like he did in a recent advertisement, without specifying which faith that is. But make no mistake, Romney is a man steeped in Mormonism — a religion that is not so much a belief system as a lifestyle, urging its adherents to be “in the world but not of the world.” Romney, in fact, is the archetypal Mormon male.
In Mormonism, gender roles are highly prescribed. Mormon men define themselves in contrast to women but also against other men in the secular world. While the “natural man” is prone to anger and sexual urges, the Mormon man is a picture of loving restraint — LDS homes are filled with paintings of Jesus surrounded by lambs, women and children. Any Mormon man worth his salt knows by heart the following line from “Doctrine and Covenants,” the tract written by Mormon prophet Joseph Smith while he was a prisoner in Liberty, Mo., in 1839: “No power or influence can or ought to be maintained by the virtue of the priesthood, only by persuasion, by long-suffering, by gentleness and meekness, and by love unfeigned.” For Mormon men, wrote David Knowlton in his seminal 1992 article on LDS masculinity in the Mormon Sunstone Magazine, “a measure of spirituality also becomes a measure of manhood.”
The very qualities that make a good Mormon man, however, make for a poor campaigner. Up until mid-January, Romney was widely seen as too timid to respond to Newt Gingrich’s barbs, letting his super PAC do it on his behalf. Romney’s reluctance may have something to do with his faith — Mormon men are taught to be specific in their criticisms and to follow them up with “an increase of love of him whom thou has reproved, lest he esteem thee to be his enemy” as written in “Doctrine and Covenants.” Romney’s transformation into a political assailant won him Florida, but it might have cost him spiritually. Even the new Romney seems a bit squeamish on the attack, ending each swipe in the Republican primary debates with a tight-lipped smile.
“I don’t think politics is a natural place for Mormon men,” said Richard Bushman, a prominent Mormon historian. “To go into a political scene, where you have to have a hard edge and knock heads and attack, that is going against the Mormon grain. I cringe when I hear Mitt talking that way. That is not the way he ought to be as a Latter-day Saint living this other ideal.”
Central to Mormon masculinity is the priesthood, a role given to all worthy, church-going Mormon boys at the age of 12. Because the LDS church is both a patriarchal church and a lay church, it invests deeply in training boys to remain devoted Mormons in adulthood, endowing them with prepubescent responsibilities like speaking in front of their congregations and collecting donations on behalf of the poor. Mormon boys at the ages of 12, 14 and 16 are called, respectively, deacons, teachers and priests — titles that in other religions belong to adults. When a Mormon embarks on a mission, he becomes an elder, like Romney did, at the tender age of 18.
Because of the priesthood, Mormon men exude a kind of humble authority that might strike other people as disingenuous. When Newt Gingrich told Romney to “drop the pious baloney” at a New Hampshire debate in January, he might have been responding to what one skeptical Mormon I spoke with called the “pseudo unction” of the Mormon male personality, the gentle hubris that comes with being raised without a shred of spiritual self-doubt.
This might explain why Romney has a certain Teflon quality. Romney has made U-turns on abortion policy, global warming and the nationwide application of his Massachusetts healthcare plan. But in contrast to Sen. John Kerry’s 2004 campaign for president, criticism of Romney as a flip-flopper hasn’t seemed to stick. Romney might be pandering to the Republican hard right, but it’s not always easy to detect — he speaks with that preternatural self-assuredness common to LDS men.
“He makes no big mistakes in the way he says something,” said Becky Johns, a professor of communications and women’s studies at Weber State University in Ogden. “He may make a lot of mistakes in the content of what he says. But he will never do the big dramatic display of any kind. Even his smiles are measured to be quite moderate.”
Throughout Romney’s campaign, he has been dogged by the perception that as president he would answer to the Mormon leadership — an assertion he denied in his 2007 speech “Faith in America.” But, according to University of Utah Mormon historian W. Paul Reeve, questions over Romney’s spiritual obligations to Salt Lake City overlook the fact that Mormonism is not solely authoritarian in nature. Mormons adhere to church law, but they also have a say in their spiritual fate through the concept of “revelation.”
“This notion that Mormons are sort of one-dimensional automatons waiting for the signal from Salt Lake City is ridiculous,” Reeve said. “It is the balance between the heart and the mind that can govern the notion of seeking guidance from God.”
Both Mormon men and women are capable of receiving godly revelation for themselves or on behalf of their families — said to come in the form of a “still, small voice” or a burning feeling in the chest. But only Mormon men in leadership positions can receive revelation on behalf of other people. In the ’80s, Romney served as a bishop over a Belmont, Mass., congregation, and later as stake president over a group of congregations in the Boston area. In both of these roles, he was capable of revelation for his laity.
Romney’s spiritual leadership, however, was challenged at times. As bishop of the Belmont ward, he clashed with a group of Mormon feminists; one of them wrote an essay in the LDS women’s journal Exponent II saying that a local leader — later revealed to be Romney — counseled her against terminating her pregnancy, even while she had developed a dangerous blood clot. Though Romney said he did not remember such an incident, he conceded that as bishop he advised women against abortions except in rare cases — following the church’s official policy.
As president of the United States, Romney has promised not to hew to church policy like he did as a Mormon lay leader. “Let me assure that no authorities of my church, or of any other church for that matter, will ever exert influence on presidential decisions,” he said in 2007. “Their authority is theirs, within the province of church affairs, and it ends where the affairs of the nation begin.”
Taking Romney at his word, there are still questions about the way that Mormonism has shaped him as a leader. Namely, what does it mean to be president if you believe you are in this world but not of it?
Naomi Zeveloff's work has appeared in alternative newsweeklies, political news sites and blogs in Salt Lake City, Colorado Springs, Denver, Dallas and New York City.
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Former Obama auto “czar” Steve Rattner stepped on his old boss’s message a little Monday morning, telling the folks on “Morning Joe” that President Obama’s just-released ad blasting Mitt Romney’s Bain career was “unfair.” As Rattner explained: “Bain Capital’s responsibility was never to create 100,000 jobs, or some other number, it was to make profits for its investors.” Rattner is a big Democratic Party donor who worked at Lehman Brothers before starting his own private equity firm, Quadrangle (where he was accused of participating in a New York state pension fund kickback scheme and paid millions of dollars in settlements without admitting wrongdoing).
Rattner’s reaction to Obama’s tough Bain ad shows why Democrats have had a hard time capitalizing on anti-Wall Street sentiment among worried, screwed-over American voters: because for the last 20 years, at least, they’ve too often done Wall Street’s bidding almost as reliably as the GOP.
But Obama is to be praised for his aggressive rollout of RomneyEconomics.com, which features the new ads. The president is going to have a problem with voters who are not seeing signs of the economic recovery, particularly working-class whites who didn’t go to college. He probably can’t win a majority, but he has to defend his margin in 2008, when he did better with that group than John Kerry or Al Gore before him. He may not be able to do much before the election to make those voters feel less economic pain, but he can make clear that Romney would only make their pain worse. Because that’s what he’s done his whole career.
Obama’s new ad released Monday, which will run in the swing states of Iowa, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Virginia and Colorado, features laid-off workers from GST Steel in Kansas City describing how Romney’s Bain Capital acquired their employer and gutted it. GST went into bankruptcy in 2001, throwing 750 employees out of work with no health benefits and reduced pensions. Ultimately the federal government had to spend $44 million to bail out its pension fund. But Bain made $12 million on its original $8 million investment, along with another $4.5 million in “consulting fees.” This wasn’t an unusual situation for Bain: 22 percent of the company’s investments ultimately wound up in bankruptcy, but the company made healthy profits and consulting fees nonetheless.
“Bain Capital walked away with a lot of money that they made off this plant,” steel worker John Wiseman says. “We view Mitt Romney as a job destroyer.”
If that sounds familiar, that’s because Republican primary opponents Newt Gingrich and Rick Perry made similar charges against Romney. Obama’s ad accuses him of “vampire capitalism”; Perry accused him of “vulture capitalism.” Either one works for me. But the class warfare appeal didn’t seem to work in the GOP primary, where party leaders were more concerned about protecting business than trying to fake populism, and smacked down Gingrich and Perry for emulating Obama’s rhetoric. Will it work in November?
I think it will, as long as Obama combines it with practical proposals to ease the unemployment and underemployment crisis. One Wall Street Journal story that didn’t get enough attention last week found that if it wasn’t for public sector layoffs, the nation’s unemployment rate would be at roughly 7 percent. And those layoffs have been concentrated in red states, particularly Texas, Ohio, Wisconsin, Indiana, Michigan and Florida, where high-profile GOP governors have been spreading the pain on a state level that Paul Ryan would like to extend nationally. The nation’s unemployment crisis is at least partly a Republican production.
The economy is all Romney has against Obama. Just Monday morning, Romney spokesperson Andrea Saul falsely but energetically claimed that “Mitt Romney helped create more jobs in his private sector experience and more jobs as Governor of Massachusetts than President Obama has for the entire nation.” They’re brazen; they’ll keep repeating that without evidence. The most recent Gallup poll shows that 61 percent of voters say Romney would do a “good or very good job” with the economy if elected president. The CBS/New York Times poll released Monday showed Romney up over Obama by 3 points, with voters saying the economy was the most important issue to them. (The poll needs an asterisk because it’s following up with an earlier group of voters previously sampled, and only got in touch with two-thirds of them, which some analysts say could skew the results.)
But most voters haven’t tuned in to the presidential campaign yet. It’s important that Obama help those voters understand that Romney’s touted “experience” with the economy has more to do with job destruction than creation. The Obama ad features Romney saying, “I know why jobs come and why they go.” That last part is true. He certainly knows “why jobs go”: because guys like him make a fortune eliminating them.
I talked about the president’s new Bain Capital ad focus with Rep. Chaka Fattah on MSNBC’s “Politics Nation” with Rev. Al Sharpton:
President Obama at Barnard College and Mitt Romney at Liberty University
(Credit: AP)
It’s come to this: “An incredibly boring white guy.” That was how a “Republican official familiar with the campaign officials” described the “prized pick” for Mitt Romney’s vice presidential candidate. Framed as the Romney campaign’s desire not to make John McCain’s mistakes, it distills something fundamental about this election — how it’s become a culture war in the most profound sense, one way of looking at the world diametrically opposed to the other.
This is not supposed to be the “change” election, and yet somehow we have an incumbent who, at a commencement address at Barnard just today, approvingly drew continuity from “Seneca Falls to Selma to Stonewall,” and talked about black and Latina girls seeing themselves in his administration. His challenger, meanwhile, visibly hopes same-old and presumed competence carry the day. There was so much in the 2008 election that scrambled the familiar calculus and allegiances – the young black man with the exotic upbringing against Hillary, the white boomer woman; and McCain, the only “white guy” in the picture, recruiting a guns-and-baby-toting Republican woman praising Title IX. But this week all you have to do is read Barack Obama’s speech at Barnard and Mitt Romney’s at Liberty University to see a dichotomy as stark as the one on either side of a picket line.
What mattered in Obama’s speech wasn’t the standard praise for his wife, mother or mother-in-law, or his hopes for his daughters. It was how he talked about the Constitution, of which he said, “Yes, it had its flaws — flaws that this nation has strived to perfect over time. Questions of race and gender were unresolved. No woman’s signature graced the original document.” But, he added, “What made this document special was that it provided the space — the possibility — for those who had been left out of our charter to fight their way in. It provided people the language to appeal to principles and ideals that broadened democracy’s reach. It allowed for protest, and movements, and the dissemination of new ideas that would repeatedly, decade after decade, change the world — a constant forward movement that continues to this day.”
It’s a formulation that sees the inclusion and participation of the excluded – even when the process is painful – as the consummation of the country’s ideals, not something from which it needs to be “taken back.” Contrast that with Romney at Liberty this weekend, in which he cited David Landes to declare that “Culture makes all the difference … Central to America’s rise to global leadership is our Judeo-Christian tradition, with its vision of the goodness and possibilities of every life.” There was the purposeful declaration that “marriage is a relationship between one man and one woman,” the shout-out to the anti-gay marriage Chick-fil-A founder and various clergy, the sermonizing. And crucially, there was an invocation of resentment, of persecution: “Your values will not always be the object of public admiration. In fact, the more you live by your beliefs, the more you will endure the censure of the world.” (Who’s supposed to play the politics of victimization, again?)
As for “incredibly boring white guy,” no one sentient would deny picking Palin was a mistake, but it wasn’t a mistake because she was a woman – the implication of that unnamed Republican’s comment, intended or not. It was a mistake because the McCain campaign thought demographics alone would give them the sheen of being transformative, and it blinded them to all else.
It’s not crazy to think that this time, safety and competence might appeal at a time of economic uncertainty. The Romney campaign didn’t create the supposition that a white guy is the standard, the safe and the certain, or that “diversity” is something you get one chance to try — even if they’re only too happy to exploit it. But in the end, from what can be determined from her wildly erratic public performance, Palin turned out to be a fairly conventional social conservative. (The erratic part ended up making all the difference.) This time around, Romney and his camp are manifestly uninterested in heeding what, per Newsweek’s headline today, “New Mexico’s Governor can teach the GOP.” That would be Susana Martinez, the first Latina governor, a pro-life, pro-gun Republican who differs from Palin in a crucial way: The worst thing a critic is quoted saying about her is that she’s “maintaining a competent, minimalist administration so there’s nothing to hang around her neck during the next campaign.” That sounds … incredibly boring, actually.
It’s not just being female and Latina that would set Martinez apart from the current GOP direction, though given their steady alienation of those groups, that’s not nothing. She’s chosen not to be a mother, off-message for a Republican moment that considers elaborate mother-worship an effective rejoinder to accusations of misogyny, and she has no patience for what little we know about Romney’s immigration stance (“‘Self-deport?’ What the heck does that mean?”).
But most significantly of all, she essentially dismisses the fiercest conservative dogma of the moment, calling the mantra of “lower taxes” “this five-liner of nothingness,” to Newsweek. The primary caretaker for a disabled sister, she says, “I believe in providing services to adults and children who can’t take care of themselves … Sometimes Republicans engage in number-crunching analysis that doesn’t always take the neediest into account.” It was a clear shot at the Ryan budget, an article of faith for Republicans – and a reminder that even when wrapped in social conservatism, there’s a whole other sort of radicalism at stake in this election.
It’s not precisely the same as Gary Hart daring reporters to follow him, when faced with Donna Rice rumors back in 1988, and then getting caught in an affair. But when Ann Romney pointed to her husband’s fun-and-games prankster high school days to show us “the real Mitt,” she made those years even more interesting and relevant to political reporters, and potentially to voters. “I still look at him as the boy that I met in high school when he was playing all the jokes and really just being crazy, pretty crazy,” she told the CBS “Early Show” 10 days ago. “There’s a wild and crazy man in there.”
The right wing is now trying to accuse Washington Post reporter Jason Horowitz of an oppo-research operation, but his meticulously reported and well-sourced story of Romney’s prep-school bullying, including two cases involving gay classmates, won’t be destroyed by the noise machine.
What’s giving the story legs isn’t merely the homophobic hair-cutting episode, which a lawyer friend of Romney’s termed “assault and battery,” not “hijinks.” It’s Romney’s callous reaction. His campaign first tried to shrug off the story with an insincere non-apology, but when the details of Horowitz’s tale got people’s attention – the “terrified” classmate John Lauber “with tears in his eyes” as Romney chopped off his hair with a scissor; the callow preppie leading a sight-impaired teacher into a set of closed doors – the candidate made his own statement. And what a statement it was.
After Fox’s Brian Kilmeade shared the Lauber story, Romney actually chuckled, and said:
You know, I don’t, I don’t remember that incident. I’ll tell you, I certainly don’t believe that I or – I can’t speak for others – thought the fellow was homosexual. That was the furthest thing from our minds in the 1960s.
You really have to listen to it to hear that the callow preppie hasn’t changed much in 50 years. As I noted yesterday, it’s rather brazen to say he doesn’t “remember that incident,” but to immediately volunteer that he didn’t think “the fellow was homosexual.” How could Lauber’s being gay have anything to do with an incident he says he doesn’t remember?
The other way his answer hurts him is that it seems to have riled up the friends who told Horowitz the story. After 50 years, they all confessed that the incident made them feel guilty, but Romney says he doesn’t remember it?
The pro-Obama PAC American Bridge is using the incident in a campaign video it called “Mitt Gets Worse,” a play on the moving series of famous folks reassuring gay teens “It Gets Better.” I don’t think we should judge Romney’s actions of 50 years ago with the exact same values society has evolved to hold today. But I do think we should judge his reaction to the story with those values. At a time when we know bullying of any kind, but particularly homophobic bullying, can leave lasting scars and even lead to suicide, Romney’s non-apology shows he has an empathy problem, plain and simple.
I’ll be debating the issue on “Hardball” with former RNC chairman Michael Steele. In the meantime, here’s the “Mitt Gets Worse” video.
George W. Bush and Barack Obama (Credit: Reuters/Larry Downing)
Barack Obama’s presidency was born from nothing so much as his repudiation of George W. Bush’s administration — its policies and politics, its style and tone. One of Obama’s most effective 2008 stump speech refrains was his promise to end the era of “Scooter Libby justice, ‘Brownie’ incompetence and Karl Rove politics.”
But the political dynamics for winning a second presidential term often differ markedly from winning the first. So don’t be surprised by many eerie parallels between Obama’s 2012 reelection bid and Bush’s 2004 campaign. The president may not rely upon “Karl Rove politics” in the strictest sense, and nobody would confuse David Axelrod with Rove. But Obama’s reelection route and rhetoric may bear more than a few Rovian hallmarks.
Now that Mitt Romney has won the Republican nomination, two key features prevail over the 2012 campaign — and both were also plainly evident in 2004. First, the incumbent president’s reelection fortunes are far from certain; and, second, the incumbent faces a decent but nevertheless weak challenger who is further hampered by internal problems within his party’s coalition.
Because incumbents can’t run for reelection promising “change,” and because “hope” during a lingering recession was also off the menu, the Obama campaign’s 2012 theme of “forward” — a word that often follows “plow,” mind you — was the best available alternative. That said, and substituting the economy for terrorism, Obama is implicitly if not explicitly advancing the same theme Bush did in 2004: America suffered a tough blow, but the situation could have been worse and, more to the point, under my stewardship the nation is steadily regaining its footing.
This counterfactual campaign theme — vote for me not because of what happened, but what might have but didn’t — is a common thread for Bush and Obama. It’s not an uplifting message, but it sufficed in 2004 and Obama is counting on it working again in 2012.
Politics 101 further dictates that when an incumbent’s reelection is in doubt, he must go negative against the challenger. Obama political operatives in the White House and at the Democratic National Committee long ago made it abundantly clear they were willing to do just that. Team Obama may not go negative against Romney to the degree the Bush camp did against John Kerry in 2004. (By mid-summer 2004, 75 percent of Bush’s TV ads were negative attacks on Kerry.) But don’t be surprised if attacks on Romney’s record and even character are plentiful, harsh and relentless. In 2008, America saw candidate Obama’s toothy grin; four years later, expect to see President Obama’s fangs.
Expect the Obama camp to emphasize two major critiques of Romney: that he is a flip-flopper willing to say anything or reverse any position to win; and that he is an economic royalist whose personal and public life suggest a person incapable of understanding the lives and struggles of average Americans. Again — note the unusual parallels with 2004.
Although Romney is a Republican former governor and Kerry was at the time his state’s Democratic junior U.S. senator, the two Massachusetts pols make for similar targets. Each man is an extraordinarily rich preppie and Ivy Leaguer. Each represents the liberal wing of his respective party. Each has shown a propensity for ruining an otherwise valid point with sloppy, backfiring language. And each has a reputation for lacking political spine.
The flip-flop frame is candidate character assassination of the first order. Like the lone negative number in a string of multiplied positives, the critique that nobody can trust any statement or claim made by a politician has the potential to negate every accomplishment or promise. If it sticks, it can be fatal, as Kerry learned in 2004.
Obama and the Democratic National Committee know their electoral history and, sure enough, last November — a year before the election and two full months before a single Iowan had caucused — the DNC released a four-minute “Mitt vs. Mitt” ad and its accompanying website with the damning tag line, “the story of two men trapped in one body.” The site is a brilliant homage to the Bush campaign’s 2004 windsurfer attack ad and the devastating, 11-minute ad the Republican National Committee produced chronicling Kerry’s “evolution” on Iraq.
And then there is what might be called “the Willard factor”: Romney as Richy Rich, the Monopoly Guy with the Bain Capital background and the Swiss bank account. His bio would be political gold to Romney’s opponent any election cycle, but it’s gold-plated platinum in the first full presidential campaign following the biggest economic crisis since the Great Depression, the rise of the Occupy Wall Street movement, and the long overdue national debate over income inequality.
Again, the wealth-personified line of attack mirrors the out-of-touch, Martha’s Vineyard yoke the Bush team put around Kerry’s neck in 2004. Right on cue, in the first public event of his reelection campaign, last week Obama attacked Romney by name and invoked the economic disconnect card with relish. “He sincerely believes that if CEOs and wealthy investors like him make money the rest of us will automatically prosper as well,” said Obama of Romney, adding that “corporations aren’t people – -people are people.” (For the record, Kerry is actually wealthier than Romney, who would become one of the richest men ever to occupy the White House, should he win.)
Obama will also try to shift the national debate toward areas of strength, as Bush did. Historically, this meant the same strategy, but with inverse implications for each party: The so-called mommy party Democrats would encourage voters to focus on more favorable kitchen-table economy issues — healthcare, jobs, education — and away from less favorable “daddy party” Republican issues surrounding foreign wars abroad and culture wars. Because Obama is net-positive in foreign policy approval and net-negative on the economy, rather than mirroring by inversion, Obama will try to duplicate Bush’s shift-in-emphasis in 2004. GOP complaints that Obama is politicizing the killing of Osama bin Laden reveal Republican fears that Obama is going to play the terrorism card in 2012 just like Bush did eight years ago.
The 2004 parallels extend beyond message. Obama will be amply resourced and enjoy a field technology by virtue of his campaign’s state-of-the-art Web, donor, volunteer and social media innovations. Remember the Bush reelection campaign’s vaunted “72-hour” voter turnout model? That seems like an Edsel compared to the Ferrari the Obama team will be sporting this summer and fall. Among the perquisites modern presidential incumbents enjoy is the option to test-drive the best mobilization machines before anyone else.
Finally, what most connects Obama 2012 to Bush 2004 is the stability of the electoral map itself. Only three states — two net to Bush — flipped from one party to the other between 2000 and 2004; only nine states flipped between 2004 and 2008. Split the difference and a good, back-of-the-napkin over-under for number of states likely to flip between 2008 and 2012 is six. And thus, like the lead sailboat during a windless race, Obama doesn’t need or want conditions to change much from 2008: He merely has to replicate the map that swept him into office, with the burden of figuring out how to shake up the Electoral College falling to Romney, just as it did for Kerry against Bush. Even Karl Rove’s mapping of the 2012 election concedes this reality.
The 2008 election was memorable; to borrow the title of one best-selling chronicle, it was a “game changer.” But 2012 will not be. In many respects, it will be a game repeater, with Obama playing Bush to Romney’s Kerry of 2004. The president may be asking Americans to look “forward” in 2012, but the best preview of his reelection campaign can be found by looking backward eight years.
Mitt Romney in 1962 (inset) and Cranbrook Tower and Quadrangle
(Credit: AP/Wikipedia)
(Updated below)
Last week we learned about President Obama’s first post-college romantic relationships. This week, we’re discovering details of Mitt Romney’s prep-school sadism. While I think we should tread carefully when examining the youthful experiences and mistakes of both presidential candidates, I thought Obama’s romantic past was fair game in Vanity Fair. I think the Washington Post’s well-reported feature on Young Mr. Romney’s entitled cruelty to gay classmates and a disabled teacher is even more revealing and important.
The Post has four named sources and a fifth who stayed anonymous to recount an incident in which Romney gathered a “posse” to forcibly cut the hair of a gay-seeming classmate:
Back on the handsome campus, studded with Tudor brick buildings and manicured fields, he spotted something he thought did not belong at a school where the boys wore ties and carried briefcases. John Lauber, a soft-spoken new student one year behind Romney, was perpetually teased for his nonconformity and presumed homosexuality. Now he was walking around the all-boys school with bleached-blond hair that draped over one eye, and Romney wasn’t having it.
“He can’t look like that. That’s wrong. Just look at him!” an incensed Romney told Matthew Friedemann, his close friend in the Stevens Hall dorm, according to Friedemann’s recollection. Mitt, the teenaged son of Michigan Gov. George Romney, kept complaining about Lauber’s look, Friedemann recalled.
A few days later, Friedemann entered Stevens Hall off the school’s collegiate quad to find Romney marching out of his own room ahead of a prep school posse shouting about their plan to cut Lauber’s hair. Friedemann followed them to a nearby room where they came upon Lauber, tackled him and pinned him to the ground. As Lauber, his eyes filling with tears, screamed for help, Romney repeatedly clipped his hair with a pair of scissors.
That’s assault, people.
“It happened very quickly, and to this day it troubles me,” Cranbrook wrestling champion John Buford told the Post. He later apologized to Lauber, who he said was “terrified,” he said. “What a senseless, stupid, idiotic thing to do.” Another classmate ran into Lauber, who later came out as gay, and apologized in the 1990s. “It was horrible.” Lauber told him. “It’s something I have thought about a lot since then.” The bullied classmate died in 2004, with his thinning hair still blonde. “He never stopped bleaching it,” his sister told the Post.
Lauber wasn’t the only gay student bullied by Romney. Gary Hummel, who was closeted, recalled that Romney mocked his efforts to speak out in class by shouting, “Atta girl!” He pulled several pranks on a teacher with seriously compromised eyesight, once “escorting” him into a closed set of doors and “giggling hysterically” when he ran into them. Another time he propped up the back axle of the teacher’s VW bug and laughed as the man hit the gas pedal “with his wheels spinning in the air.” Hilarious!
In a hastily scheduled interview with a friendly Fox host, Romney made this statement: “I participated in a lot of hijinks and pranks during high school, and some might have gone too far, and for that I apologize.” He sort of said he didn’t remember assaulting Lauber. “I don’t remember that incident,” Romney said, laughing. (Laughing?) “I certainly don’t believe that I thought the fellow was homosexual. That was the furthest thing from our minds back in the 1960s, so that was not the case.” So he obviously remembers something – but he didn’t know the guy was gay! About taunting Gary Hummel with “Atta girl,” Romney offers a similar qualified denial: “I really can’t remember that. As this person indicated, he was closeted. I had no idea that he was gay and can’t speak to that even today.” So I didn’t do it, and anyway, the guy was closeted. Romney closed with the classic non-apology apology: ”If there’s anything I said that is offensive to someone, I certainly am sorry for that, very deeply sorry for that.”
I’m not sure what’s worse – that he remembers his cruel pranks, and he’s lying about it, or that such cruelty doesn’t stand out in his memory. It’s all of a piece with Romney’s cavalier statements about power and entitlement: “I like being able to fire people who provide services to me;” joking to a group of unemployed voters that he’s “unemployed” too; the $10,000 bet with Rick Perry; his statement the other day that retirees “can’t begin to live off the puny interest from their CDs.” He’s still the same entitled rich kid, the one whose classmate told the Post he thought deserved some punishment in the Lauber incident – punishment that of course never came. No wonder the story of poor Seamus on the roof of the car never goes away: we have stories of Mechanical Mitt, and Mean Mitt, and very few of Mitt as a man who shows genuine empathy to people (or other living beings) less powerful than he is.
One Obama-Romney parallel is striking. On Wednesday President Obama hastily schedules an interview to announce that he supports gay marriage. On Thursday Romney hastily schedules an interview to say he can’t remember assaulting one gay student and insulting another. That’s a pretty stark choice right there.
Update: This is rich: Some of Romney’s school-days friends are being asked by the campaign to step forward and defend him from the Washington Post story charges – and they’re balking. Stu White told ABC News that he is “still debating” whether he will help, addding, “It’s been a long time since we’ve been pals.”
Another classmate and old friend of Romney’s told ABC “a lot of guys” who went to Cranbrook have “really negative memories” of Romney’s behavior there. He described it as “evil” and “like Lord of the Flies.” The classmate, who wouldn’t be named, says Romney is lying when he says he can’t remember the hair-cutting incident.
“It makes these fellows [who have owned up to it] very remorseful. For [Romney] not to remember it? It doesn’t ring true. How could the fellow with the scissors forget it?” the former classmate said.
And another classmate, Phillip Maxwell, who witnessed the hair-cutting incident, told CBS today: “Mitt was a prankster, there’s no doubt about it. This thing with Lauber wasn’t a prank. This was, well, as a lawyer, it was an assault. It was an assault and a battery. And I’m sure that John Lauber carried it with him for the rest of his life.”
It seems like Romney’s glib dismissal of the story is bothering his old friends. Stay tuned; Romney’s going to have to say more about this soon. A lawyer just termed it “assault.”