The decision by Rep. Todd Akin (R-MO) to stay in Missouri’s Senate race may have cost the Republican Party more than a chance to win Sen. Claire McCaskill’s pivotal Senate seat.
It may have placed Missouri in play for President Barack Obama’s reelection campaign.
The state has been widely regarded as “leaning Republican” on the presidential maps, and neither party has been expected to invest significantly in trying to win it. But that could change now as the events surrounding Akin unfold.
Akin ignited a mammoth national firestorm with comments made Sunday on a St. Louis TV station, in which he suggested that victims of “legitimate rape” were unlikely to become pregnant because their bodies would “shut down” against bearing a child. A fervent opponent of abortion, Akin said he opposed an exception for rape.
His comments drew strong condemnation from his own party—Gov. Mitt Romney, among others said “it cannot be defended”—and a wide range of national Republican leaders and commentators demanded Akin withdraw from the race. Key major funders, including the National Republican Senatorial Committee and the Crossroads GPS super-pac, announced that if Akin stayed in the race, they would refuse to spend tens of millions of dollars that had been planned to target McCaskill.
Republican Sens. Scott Brown and Ron Johnson called for Akin to drop out of the race. The National Review Online issued a lead editorial headlined, “Step Aside, Todd Akin.” Syndicated columnist Ann Coulter appealed to his patriotic duty to give up the race. So did the national Tea Party Express. In Missouri, Sen. Roy Blunt joined four former senators—Jack Danforth, Kit Bond, John Ashcroft, and Jim Talent—in issuing an unprecedented joint statement urging Akin to drop out.
It turned out to be a failed gamble, arguably of historic proportions. Akin rebuked all of them, and he now soldiers forward with a campaign that is likely to face a significant funding deficit against a reenergized McCaskill, a moderate who had invested millions in advertising during the Republican primary in an effort to draw Akin as an opponent.
McCaskill then believed that the far-right-leanng Akin would be the least likely of three Republican hopefuls to appeal to moderates and independents. Now that seems a virtual certainty.
Meanwhile, part of the national fallout of the Akin story was the revelation that he and GOP vice-presidential nominee Rep. Paul Ryan (R-Wisc) have co-sponsored anti-abortion “personhood” legislation (the Sanctity of Life Act) and voted together 93 percent of the time. With Akin roundly condemned as an extremist from both sides of the aisle, that’s hardly a relationship welcomed by the GOP ticket.
Now, it will be all but impossible for Romney and Ryan to campaign in Missouri without reigniting the Akin story in the national media. The converse may be true for the Obama camp, which may suddenly decide Missouri is a more hospitable destination, particularly with long-time ally McCaskill having gained new strength. Missouri’s historical status as a swing state may have been restored. (After all, Obama lost the state by fewer than 4,000 votes during the 2008 presidential election.)
If that turns out to be the case, the postmortem analysis should reflect upon the new dynamics of American politics in the age of the Internet. Local and state politics now can become national fodder in a heartbeat, via Twitter, Facebook, and an endless tangle of interconnected political websites.
That, in turn, demands instant—and intense—response from party and media elites when a story like Akin’s “legitimate rape” turns viral. But if condemnation of a heretofore unknown like Akin morphs into a series of demands and ultimatums from the elites, a new-age dilemma emerges that was formerly unthinkable:
What if he tells them all to take a hike?
That’s what happened in Missouri. In the process, Akin not only has produced an embarrassing and unproductive week for the Romney campaign, but his defiance of the GOP establishment has demonstrated the perils of the new anti-establishment (and religiously grounded) political paradigm: Literally, the center no longer holds. In an era in which the political parties pay homage to the virtues of anti-Washington, anti-establishment candidacies, the by-product of renegade politicians is that they may, indeed, behave like renegades.
Despite his 24-year career in state and Congressional politics, Akin has always been a bit of an outsider among Republicans. His Senate candidacy was hardly embraced by mainstream party officials, but rather was fueled by fervent support from religious conservatives and members of the Tea Party (Akin was among the first Missouri officeholders to embrace it).
Akin also has often stated that he entered public service in response to a call from God, and he invoked God just two weeks ago, in his primary-night victory speech. Commentator and former Arkansas Gov. Mike Huckabee has been Akin's chief national patron.
From the standpoint of traditional politics, Akin proved himself an uncontrollable wild card, and now he is the standard-bearer of a political party that has rebuked him in the strongest of terms and likely can offer tepid support at best. This, in a Senate race that, just several days ago, was viewed as one of the most pivotal in the nation.
For Republicans, it is a huge political problem today. And a cautionary tale for tomorrow.
SLM co-owner Ray Hartmann is a panelist on KETC Channel 9’s Donnybrook, which airs Thursdays at 7 p.m.
Commentary by Ray Hartmann
