
("Bad Reporter" cartoon by Don Asmussen)
Analysts and historians who waste their time in future years looking back at John McCain’s 2008 presidential campaign will undoubtedly be struck by the raw, unfiltered ugliness of McCain’s personality during his three debates with Barack Obama. As Jane Hamsher wrote just after Wednesday’s final match, McCain’s “smirking, snarky tone was decidedly un-presidential… [he] was a nasty, vicious glass of sour milk who can barely contain his temper and can’t quite fathom what is happening to him.“
But now I think I understand why McMean couldn’t control himself.
You see, when I wrote three weeks ago about “McCain’s insistence on seeing the election (and world events) as mere vehicles for his all-consuming personal drama,” and three weeks before that about how “for McCain, being president isn’t about doing anything for the American people — it’s the world’s biggest gold watch… [he] has been a goddamned selfless patriot his entire adult life, and it’s time for you fuckers to pay him back,” I had no idea just how right I was.
I didn’t know what the Washington Post reported on Monday about the origin of McCain’s White House ambitions:
To endure their long ordeal, John McCain and the other U.S. servicemen held as prisoners of war in North Vietnam in the 1960s developed a number of survival techniques. None was quite as effective as the one former Navy pilot Richard Stratton remembers: “If you kept your mind occupied, you were going to be okay.”
Stratton would imagine meticulously assembling a large glider and flying it over the Alps. Another prisoner imagined himself fishing. But McCain had the most audacious dream of all, and he shared his vision one day with a group of fellow POWs. “He was talking about his father to us and then he said: ‘I want to be president of the United States. Someday I’m going to be president,’ ” Stratton recalls. “If the cell wasn’t so small, we’d have been rolling around laughing.”
. . . Not at all dissuaded, McCain offered his view on the meaning of real command, shaped in part by his father’s perspective on genuine power. He wanted to be the one who made the decisions, McCain said, and his father had taught him that even such impressive-sounding jobs as chief of naval operations, the service’s highest uniformed position, didn’t always provide that opportunity. The only job that guaranteed it was that of president, McCain believed.
“Pursuit of command,” as McCain often referred to it, was an ethos bordering on obsession in his family, and it was in Vietnam that he embraced it.
Over at emptywheel’s blog, bmAZ picked up on the narcissism of McCain’s apolitical desire for power for power’s sake, but that’s only part of the story. See, it’s not just that in pursuit of his private dream, McCain lied, cheated, backstabbed, married for money, sold himself to lobbyists and all the rest, but for three decades or more, he got away with it. And after the seemingly definitive failures of his 2000 GOP primary defeat and near-collapse in the polls before the 2008 contests began, this summer he finally, miraculously found himself just one step short of his ultimate goal.
I doubt any adviser could have convinced McCain then that he had only won because his Republican challengers were even more implausible and inept than he was. From the candidate’s perspective, it must have seemed that fate was on his side. Why should he need to learn message discipline, or emotional self-control, or (heaven forbid!) gain a convincing knowledge of the issues facing the American public now? He merely needed to present himself to the world and be granted his destiny.
At least, that is, until Barack Obama came along.
(Cross-posted at Firedoglake.)