October 30, 2008
At Rallies of Faithful, Contrasts in Red and Blue
By MARK LEIBOVICH

SHIPPENSBURG, Pa. — Supporters of Senators Barack Obama and Joseph R. Biden Jr. often look like Benetton-colored billboards, decked out for their candidates in Obama-Biden hats, T-shirts and buttons. Supporters of Senator John McCain and Gov. Sarah Palin like logo merchandise, too, but tend more toward pompoms (yes, pompoms), homemade signs (“Pitbulls 4 Freedom”), flag pins and chest paint.

There is more dancing at Democratic rallies, more shouting out at Republican ones. They chant “Yes, we can” (or “Sí, se puede”) at Obama and Biden rallies, “U.S.A.” and “Drill, baby, drill” at McCain and Palin rallies; the D’s bounce to blaring folk-rock and Motown (Bruce Springsteen, Stevie Wonder) and the R’s counter with country-pop (including Dolly Parton’s “9 to 5”) and arena rock ( AC/DC).

Democratic rallygoers seem more worried about Ms. Palin than about Mr. McCain. They speak of feeling weary of “the politics of fear” and claim Mr. McCain and Ms. Palin are “irrelevant” — unless they win, as one supporter in Charleston, W.Va., said with a smile-cringe.

When you ask Republicans what they think of Mr. Obama, the word “socialist” comes up more often than not. They mention that he is a smooth talker, and not in a good way. A lot of them seem to have real problems with Michelle Obama, too, though they cannot pinpoint why. And they do not much care for that Joe Biden, either, or whatever his name is — many cannot immediately summon it.

What can we learn from a close-in view of Democratic and Republican events at the end of a bitter, exhilarating campaign? It has become a cliché to say that the country is “divided,” but the anthropologies displayed at 11 campaign stops in recent days offer glimpses of partisan America.

In these last shopping days before the political Christmas, the distinctions — and some similarities — were marked. Mr. Obama’s crowds were the biggest and loudest, followed by Ms. Palin’s (with Mr. McCain’s third, and Mr. Biden’s fourth).

In audience volume, age and enthusiasm, Ms. Palin’s rallies have more in common with Mr. Obama’s than with Mr. McCain’s. Fans often crush toward Mr. Obama and Ms. Palin after they are finished speaking, clicking cellphone cameras over their heads.

The rallygoers keep a more respectful distance from the tickets’ grayer eminences, Mr. McCain and Mr. Biden, whose crowds appear older, more traditional party-base types (a lot of veterans for Mr. McCain, labor guys for Mr. Biden).

You can tell that Mr. McCain and Ms. Palin are all about being “mavericks,” because they remind you about it until they are red in the face; just as you can tell Mr. Obama and Mr. Biden are all about “change,” because they do the same until they are blue in the face.

Ms. Palin is the best on the rope lines, working them with the gusto of someone who has been at this campaign racket for only two months, as opposed to two years.

Mr. Biden gets off the best one-liners, saying things like “John McCain criticizing George Bush is like Butch Cassidy going after the Sundance Kid.” He invokes his family a lot, too, including his 10-year-old granddaughter, Finnegan. (“Hull-o,” she says.)

Mr. McCain is most prone to ad-libbing, saying Tuesday in Harrisburg, Pa., that “no one will delay the World Series with an infomercial when I’m president.” (Mr. Obama bought half-hour advertisements before a World Series game Wednesday night.)

Mr. Obama has a knack for always coming off morning fresh, even at nighttime events. “Wow, look at this,” he has said, marveling at the size of his crowds.

Ms. Palin’s events could be Woodstocks, too, though Woodstocks that are attended by hollering home-schoolers, hockey moms and heavy-metal heads.

There are more children on parents’ shoulders at Democratic rallies, more large young families together at the Republican events, many wearing matching clothing (often with anti-abortion-themed messages).

There are more school groups at Democratic events, church groups at Republican gatherings; more Democratic protesters outside Republican events than vice versa, although Republicans tend to treat Democratic agitators with a greater contempt than vice versa. (“Communist, socialist, liberal, I hear that all a lot,” said Matthew Lengao, who was holding up an Obama sign outside a McCain rally in Mesilla, N.M., last weekend, which provoked several raised middle fingers by passing motorists.)

Obama and Biden rallies tend to be more transactional than those of their Republican counterparts. Warm-up speakers spend several minutes urging everyone to call or text-message a certain number in order to get into the “pipeline,” so the campaign can contact them to volunteer, or at least vote.

Republican speakers issue obligatory reminders for people to call their friends, make sure they get out and vote. Then they move on to the Pledge of Allegiance and the singing of patriotic songs (“The Star-Spangled Banner,” “God Bless America,” “America the Beautiful”).

Democrats can be defensive about patriotism, often protesting that they love the United States as much as their counterparts do. Can Republican rallies be heavy with implication to the contrary? You bet.

“Have you ever heard the word ‘victory’ pass Senator Obama’s lips?” Mr. McCain asked a crowd Tuesday in Hershey, Pa., drawing a chorus of “Nooo’s.” One of Ms. Palin’s biggest applause lines is that she is tired of all the apologizing for the United States of America.

After a group recitation of the Pledge of Allegiance at a Palin event in Salem, N.H., this month, someone in the crowd yelled out, “Say that, Obama!”

The candidates and audiences also recite the pledge and sing the national anthem at Obama and Biden gatherings, but the crowds tend to be less vigilant about removing caps and placing their hands on their hearts.

“I love you, Barack,” is probably the most familiar cry at Obama rallies, which the candidate often obliges with a reassuring “I love you back.”

The wealthy, though, get a little less love at Mr. Obama’s rallies. “How many people here make less than $250,000 a year?” Mr. Obama says, asking for a show of hands, wanting to recognize all of those whose taxes he says would not be raised in an Obama administration. Hands shoot up, followed by big cheers — people celebrating nonwealth.

People at McCain and Palin rallies often accuse Democrats of just wanting handouts. “A lot of people on the other side just want free money,” said Susan Emrich, at a McCain-Palin rally in Hershey on Tuesday. A real-estate agent, she wears a T-shirt that says, “I’m voting for Sarah Palin and that White Haired Dude.” Ms. Emrich would like to attend another rally later that day in nearby Shippensburg, but can’t. “I have to work,” she explains. “I’m a Republican.”

Every Republican cheering Mr. McCain and Ms. Palin and every Democrat cheering Mr. Obama and Mr. Biden claim to have dear friends in the other party, even family members. But the other people in the other party can seem to be in a whole other world, especially now.

The candidates say as much. “When I hear some of those Republican ads, I think, ‘What planet are they on?’ ” Mr. Biden said at a rally in Charleston, W.Va.

Likewise, it is inconceivable to Bill Howland, a McCain supporter in New Mexico, that Barack Obama could win on Tuesday. “When I think of the other side, I think of a giant troop of lemmings,” Mr. Howland said. “I see their eyes spinning while they’re walking over a cliff together.”

Mr. Howland has lucked out: he is a plumber, and won a backstage audience with the candidate in Albuquerque. “One of the great honors of my life,” said Mr. Howland, who postponed an ankle operation so he could don his “Plumbers for McCain” T-shirt, decorate himself with McCain-Palin buttons (and a Fox News lapel pin) and get his picture snapped with Mr. McCain.

But there is an edge to Mr. Howland (the idea that Mr. Obama might prevail elicits an emphatic “God forbid”) that many in the audiences at Republican events share these days. They complain that the Republican ticket has been shortchanged by the news media, that pollsters have ignored them and that “people have been very badly educated about Obama’s socialist beliefs,” as Carol Schorr, a retired teacher from Edgewood, N.M., put it.

There is an edge at Obama rallies, but it is less of frustration, more of fear. Those supporters worry that the election may be stolen from them, that race could skew against an African-American candidate, or that something unspeakable might befall Mr. Obama — but they will speak it nonetheless, in hushed tones.

Bipartisan consensus can exist, however. A lot of people at rallies for both camps say they are ready for this campaign to be over. But you kind of sense many of them don’t mean it.