American voters are dazed, confused and searching for the lesser evil - Michael's essay
The late Murray Kempton is one of those old-style thoughtful journalists to whom creaky relics still in the business turn for enlightenment from time to time.
His era was the 30s through the 70s and his place was New York City. He wrote about politics, about the poor and the powerful. He loved low-rent mobsters and Park Avenue matrons. And he always used his masterful observational skills to draw from the behaviour of people some lasting truth on which he could build a coherent understanding of his times.
Often he was disappointed. As he assuredly would have been had he ventured to Cleveland, Ohio and Philadelphia, Pennsylvania this month.
"A political convention," he once wrote, "is not a place where you come away with any trace of faith in human nature."
In fact, the best you can come away with is the hope that Lincoln's house divided against itself is still standing and that out of the mawkish speeches, the kitschy patriotism and the angry rhetoric, the election in 101 days will produce a president who understands pain and will do something about it.
Both Secretary Clinton and Mr. Trump go into the campaign burdened by the lowest popularity ratings in modern history.- Michael Enright
The Republican convention in Cleveland and the Democratic version in Philadelphia were historic in tone and in substance. But the contrasts were stark.
Republican organizers and speechmakers, including the nominee himself, had virtually nothing to say about policy. Everything was about Hillary Clinton and her ingrained awfulness. Absent Hillary Clinton, the delegates would have had little to talk about.
This was Swift-Boating of a particularly violent nature; screams of "Lock her Up" and "Life's a Bitch, Don't Vote For One," and threats to her safety were not uncommon. It's safe to say that few reporters in the hall, including me, had ever heard such rhetoric at a political gathering.
When it came their turn, the Democrats in Philadelphia knew they were there to make history and acted like it. As everybody kept pointing out, the city of Philadelphia was used to making history and this week was no different.
Hillary Rodham Clinton of Arkansas and Yale Law, is on the verge of becoming the first female president of the United States. Her opponent would be a 70-year old reality show host and developer. Donald Trump has ridiculed her, called her a traitor, accused her of conspiring to kill her White House friend Vince Foster, and of generally being the vilest woman in politics since Nero's cousin, Mesalina — the courtesan who became empress of Rome.
The two contrasted in other ways. The Republican party apparatus clunked along in division and disarray, but the faithful in the hall were united in their Trump love.
The Democrats, on the other hand, ran a slick, united stage event with everyone seemingly on the same page. But there was loud division in the arena, where the embittered supporters of Senator Bernie Sanders shouted their frustrations at the podium.
Clinton's speech on Thursday was textbook perfect. She was in tune and on focus. Trump's speech the week before was little more than a laundry list of the unspeakable horrors marauding the streets of his America. Sitting high in the seats of the Quicken Loans Arena, it was hard to know what he was talking about or to whom.
Democrats and Republicans have come away from their conventions each facing the same question: Is this the time to cast a vote for the lesser of two evils?
Both Secretary Clinton and Mr. Trump go into the campaign burdened by the lowest popularity ratings in modern history.
Ironically, the only national figure with a positive rating is Bernie Sanders.
American political conventions make for great theatre. But there is a barometric element in them which suggests strengths and weakness in the system. In covering nine of these conventions since 1968, I've seen delegates come away united, joyful in their cause or angry or fearful of their future.
This summer's conventions are the first where I've seen both parties and their members come away dazed, confused and utterly unclear of what to do on Nov. 8th.
Whatever the outcome of the US political system, its impact will ripple across Canada. Tick any box — culture, the economy, foreign relations, border security, trade, communications — every twitch and tickle in the US affects us in some way.
Which is what brought us here — here being one of the oldest cities in the country. Philadelphia, home of the Liberty Bell, the Constitution, the Broad Street Bullies and Mr. Rocky Balboa.
In our first hour this morning, we look at history in the making: Hillary Rodham Clinton, the first woman in a major party to be nominated for president. We'll talk to pro and anti-Hillary delegates and try to calibrate the reach of the antipathy toward her.
In our second hour, we pull back for the wider frame — the black and minority voters in the Party, the behaviour of media in covering Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton, and an assessment of the Democratic Party by one of the sharpest political observers in the country. And we will bring you the underside of Philadelphia that typifies many American cities.
The Sunday Edition, coming to you from the Democratic Convention in Philadelphia.
Click the button above to hear Michael's essay.