Election 2008: A national obsession

For the first time in a long time, a presidential election has become a national obsession. No matter where you go, this election is being discussed across lines of class, race, gender, region and ideology. Democrat, independent or Republican, everyone's an expert. In fact, many define who they are and what they value by where they stand on this particular vote. Suddenly, the arcana of Democratic Party rules, of super and automatic delegates, and of how to deal with delegates from Michigan and Florida, are as common knowledge as traffic laws.

Will it go all the way to the convention? People love to speculate.

What's amazing is that they're some striking similarities from another time and another famous resident of Illinois – the summer of 1860 and the nomination of Abraham Lincoln. First, something that most Americans have understandably forgotten: Back in the day (as late as 1952 for Republicans, pre-FDR for Democrats) most conventions were "brokered," that is, the party nominees for president and vice president were not decided until the convention itself. Only after the advent of primaries, instant media and the decline of political parties did the system become as controlled as it is today. Conventions were once crap shoots, whereas, today, parties prefer them as coronations in which the pre-ordained candidate is crowed on prime-time television with all of the free publicity entailed by such a proceeding.

But how different was the election year of 1860! The Republicans had one convention that summer, in Chicago. The Democratic Party was forced to have two conventions, one in Charleston, S.C., and the next in Baltimore, Md. The reason was that Democrats could not agree on a candidate: Was it to be the Northern compromiser on slavery, Stephen "The Little Giant" Douglas? Or would it be the unabashed pro-slavery John Breckenridge? In fact, the Democrats nominated both candidates. Together they split the vote and the nation. In less than a year, America would be at war with itself.

But the real similarities with the present took place on the Republican side. At the beginning, it was widely expected that the senator from New York, political veteran William H. Seward, would simply stroll into his party's nomination. Seward had the money, power, national profile, experience and anti-slavery credentials to sweep his party's delegates. Replace Sen. Seward with Sen. Clinton: Both candidates enjoyed what one might call "the presumption."

But there was another man, just as ambitious as Seward, but one that captured the imagination of Republicans in a meteoric rise to power. Legislatively, he had few accomplishments, having served a term in Congress in the 1840s and before that, in the Illinois legislature. He wasn't a great speaker, but like somebody else today, he commanded the media of his time. In Lincoln's day, that was the newspaper. Most voters didn't personally hear a speech, they read about it in the newspaper. And as the nation would learn during the Civil War, there were few writers whose words would resonate for centuries to come. The man who uttered, "A house divided against itself cannot stand," would sway the nation's newspaper readers.

Seward, and most of the country, thought he had it wrapped up. But he had enemies: Those who distrusted his motives, his commitment to anti-slavery and his personal integrity. He had what people today might call "attitude," a certain arrogance that did not always please his colleagues. There were other candidates as well, and then there was Lincoln.

Lincoln's skimpy record up to 1860 has already been noted. But those who read his 1858 debates against Stephen Douglas and the words of his speech given at New York's Cooper Union, thought there might be something beyond the record about this ungainly, not yet bearded Illinoisan. Nevertheless, Lincoln came into the convention way behind Seward in votes, but Seward did not have enough votes to win on the first ballot.

Yet Lincoln's "wirepullers" worked the convention floor and made deals for future jobs, appointments and government contracts with other delegates. By the time the smoked cleared from the smoke-filled rooms, Lincoln had won the nomination on the third ballot.

What are the lessons from the 1860 Republican convention? Lesson one, two and three is: Expect the unexpected. This has been a lousy year for political pundits, and there aren't many Americans alive who still remember the last brokered convention in 1952. Thus, lesson four is that anyone who says that they know what will happen is either lying or stupid.

Finally, for all of my readers, it is my pleasure to give you lesson five: There was a time when politics was the passion sport of America with as much uncertainty as professional baseball of football playoff games, and just as exciting. We're here again, and the only thing I feel safe predicting is that there won't be much talk this year about voter apathy. So lesson five is this: Have fun with this election. The issues are serious, but the politics will be a real roller coaster.