The case of Beto O'Rourke in favor of irrational optimism

On the afternoon of Halloween, somewhere on the San Antonio highways, Beto O'Rourke's campaign for the Senate ran into a very texan obstacle: a traffic jam. O'Rourke, the Democrat running against Ted Cruz, was late for a rally in the historically Hispanic western part of the city and was facing several urgent deadlines. The hour of the turn was imminent, as was a group of big thunder with blue colors. And it was already the tenth day of advance polling in Texas, which meant that even though he was sitting – and sitting – behind the windshield of a Dodge minivan, the Texans were deciding the fate of his campaign. Indeed, it was already polling day.

As usual, O'Rourke broadcast live on Facebook while driving, so he took advantage of some of his last precious moments to evoke a topical topic: Halloween. He discussed his positions on sweets. (Yes to Twix and sweet corn, no to Butterfinger because he clings to his teeth.) He phoned Amy, his wife, in El Paso, to keep up with the costumes of their three children. He asked a campaign assistant to retrieve a picture of a few years ago. "I'm trying to be John Travolta in pulp FictionO'Rourke said, "But I look like me in a white shirt." Whatever the outcome of this election, he will not be able to complain – like many long-term challengers – that the people of Texas do not never had a chance to know him.

Perversely, this can prove to be a mixed blessing. The mid-term elections are usually a referendum on the ruling party, but this year's race in Texas has a different dynamic. By organizing an ambitious challenge and exalting Senator Ted Cruz's wish, O'Rourke has become a progressive political star, collecting some $ 38 million, mostly in the form of small online donations. Impressive fundraising figures have created a media feedback loop: mesmerizing national coverage stimulates more donations, inspiring even more coverage. For O'Rourke, however, this beto-mania presents a strategic disadvantage. In a way, an election involving one of the most reputable – and among the democrats, despised – Republicans in the country has become all about Beto. A Texas political commentator had joked earlier this year, while I was writing my own feature film, that it "should be reported as a gift in kind to the Cruz campaign." And Cruz gratefully accepted, attacking his opponent as a liberal hipster absorbed "too foolhardy for Texas".

Some polls showed that during the summer, O'Rourke found himself face to face with Cruz, New York Time reported that White House officials warned donors that they were really struggling in Texas. But then, Cruz saved O'Rourke during his first debate. (In response to a question about the softball about a quality he admired in his opponent, Cruz replied that he seemed truly attached to his socialist convictions.) A second debate was canceled and the last debate – featuring an unusually combative O 'Rourke – was felt as such. a draw. Cruz called his once bitter rival for the 2016 presidential nomination, Donald Trump, for help. The president attacked O'Rourke as a "flake" on Twitter and starred a recent Cruz rally that drew a large crowd to an arena in Houston. The Republican message – "STOP THE RADICAL LEFT", warns an advertisement currently broadcast on San Antonio, seems to have worked as expected. In a recent poll conducted by the University of Texas and the Texas Tribune, which revealed a five-point gap for O'Rourke, nearly half of potential voters expressed a negative opinion of him.

O'Rourke's hopes are still based on the definition of "probable". He thinks his campaign is mobilizing a legion of voters who have been disengaged, who do not show up at the polls. This theory has been backed by reports of high voter turnout, particularly in the large urban counties that Rourke will need to dominate to have the slightest chance of becoming the first elected Democrat. in Texas for a generation. In Bexar County, where San Antonio is headquartered, more than 30% of registered voters had already voted before Halloween, double the percentage registered for the same period before the last mid-term election and comparable to the one in the province. Presidential Election of 2016. When O 'Rourke finally reached his rally, he was greeted by a hundred loyal followers, who had been waiting in the park for almost no trees despite a warning of "no". severe storm.

A mariachi group played a slightly messy air when O'Rourke jumped out of the van. "OléThe crowd shouted, then a lonely voice added, "Beto, president! ". Someone in the crowd handed O'Rourke a Spurs cap, on which he got stuck, then he climbed onto the bed of a pickup truck. "You call the challenge, we are up to it," he shouted through a megaphone. "We will ensure that this great country, the largest in the world, has lived up to its promises and potential. That we are defined not by our fears, not by those you are afraid of, but by our ambitions. "

The sky brightened as O'Rourke, who was already the tallest man, brandished the megaphone on his head. It seemed for a moment that lightning could strike Texas in a non-metaphorical way.

I retreated to my car as the sky opened in a deluge. I saw Facebook on my phone and, to my slight surprise, I discovered that the live video stream was continuing. O'Rourke was standing next to the van, the rain falling from the edge of his cap, taking selfies with a line of supporters waiting for a puddle to the ankle, some in wet suits. In ecstasy, O'Rourke did a little dance in the shoulder for the camera. "A little rain does not stop us!" He shouted. The umbrella of someone flew away.

***

According to the latest forecast from FiveThirtyEight.com, O'Rourke has about a 20% chance of winning on Tuesday, about 20% more than most smart politicians who give him. After the hearings of Brett Kavanaugh, Cruz opened a big lead in the polls, and some Democratic leaders went so far as to suggest that Mr. O. Rourke – who received little institutional support from the party – should start redistributing its huge fundraising campaign to the democratic citizens in danger. holders in other States. But in the final days of the campaign, after a fierce final debate and a series of Trump's polarizing measures on immigration, Mr. O. Rourke has narrowed the gap. It will probably exceed all Texas Democrats in a generation. But that may not be enough. "Do you know how you call a Republican who only earns numbers in Texas?" Evan Smith, the veteran journalist who co-founded the Tribune, joked me a few months ago.

"Senator."

I know all of this, and yet the historical political waves – the kind that the Democrats would need to win in Texas – are rarely manifested long in advance. In his recent book Red and bluePolitical analyst Steve Kornacki recounts the mid-term elections in 1994. Bill Clinton's Gallup approval rate was about 40%, but he was already confident after a series of invigorating appearances in the campaign. who recalled his election as insurgents two years ago. (Every word in this sentence could also apply to Trump.) Instead, the Democrats had a historic speech: even the candidates that Clinton had defended, like Governor Mario Cuomo, were unhappy. "There is a revolution in the air," journalist David Brinkley told ABC during the election night. But this is only after the results.

"When there is a real wave, everything starts to go, and even the wildest reaches suddenly become competitive," Kornacki recently told me by e-mail. If you are a Democrat and you hope to take over the Senate in 2018, that is why irrational optimism begins.

For O'Rourke, an irresistibly optimistic path to victory begins in Texas's urban counties, such as Bexar, which has a large population of Blacks, Latinos, and other working-class voters who, in theory, are inclined to vote democrat. This continues in the traditionally Republican-dominated suburbs of Dallas and Houston, but filled with middle-class women who, in theory, may have been rejected by Trump. And it also depends on the control of Cruz's margins in the Friday night lights part of the state, the vast conservative hinterland, where O'Rourke, defying conventional wisdom, spent much of his campaign. (Even in the last stretch of late October, he took the time to appear in front of Lubbock, Amarillo and Wichita Falls.)

"The good news," said O & Rourke at a rally held Wednesday in Austin, "is that all hopes have been turned into action and votes." In a state with a weak democratic party organization, he had to devote a substantial portion of the money raised to building a new type of political machine. It is now time to see if it really works.