The Daily Beast
by Will Cathcart
September 8, 2009…
Sanford has been a loner his entire political life; it was not at all out of character when he sought to turn back the Obama administration’s offer of federal stimulus money for his state—a fight he lost with the state General Assembly. Saving his scalp—with the legislature as well as the rank-and-file voters—will require him to do something he’s never been comfortable doing: slap backs, trade stories, and get on with the good ole boys.
It won’t be easy. He knows his brand of extreme fiscal conservatism is suddenly very much in fashion, as the Obama administration runs up the deficit. And he knows he’s shot himself in the foot, big time. “I’m a wounded soldier; I took myself off the battlefield,” he says. “It’s not until you lose something in life that you appreciate some of your blessings. If I ever had the chance to get back on the playing field, it would be a great honor and a privilege and a blessing.”
“You know,” the South Carolina governor continues, “everybody is assigned their own secret-agent mission in life. And at times the tricky part, the hard part, is finding out what that secret-agent mission is. Some of us do it early, some of us do it later in life.” Simply put, nobody else in the Palmetto State’s political class talks like that.
It’s tempting, Sanford admits, to go “hide under a rock, go down to the farm and never see another television camera again.” That temptation must have only grown last week, when Lieutenant Governor Andre Bauer wrote a letter calling for Sanford’s resignation and offered to take over the job. But, as Sanford puts it, “you gotta stay around for the second half of the show”…
As he enters what may well be the home stretch of his political career, Sanford sounds weary, but determined to push on through.
“I’m going to keep doing the business that the people of South Carolina really care about,” Sanford says. “I can’t tell you how many people come up to me and say ‘this has got to be a three-ring circus; this has got to be a witch hunt. This is about David Thomas trying to run for Congress, and thinking he can build his name by having these ‘investigations’ that are little about investigation and a whole lot about making papers … What we are going to continue to try to do is, one, get back to business. At the end of the day, the subtleties of my relationship with Jenny are not going to impact one way or another somebody who lives in Sumter who is struggling to make it.”
But the thing that makes his interviews of interest is the quasi-supernatural stuff – his destiny to rule. He says it in one way or another every time he talks, "everybody is assigned their own secret-agent mission in life. And at times the tricky part, the hard part, is finding out what that secret-agent mission is. Some of us do it early, some of us do it later in life." I’ve been trying to think of other people that evoke destiny or being chosen as a reason for staying in office. He’s said it so often, it must be something he believes – a strong "C Street" line of thinking. Putting aside the arrogance of such a position is hard. He both believes he is destined [chosen] to lead [pretty special], and he seems to think that this belief he holds should bind others to let him [real special].
I have been doing a lot of soul searching on that front. What I find interesting is the story of David, and the way in which he fell mightily, he fell in very very significant ways. But then picked up the pieces and built from there.
mav⋅er⋅ick [mav-er-ik mav-rik]
–noun
Southwestern U.S. – an unbranded calf, cow, or steer, esp. an unbranded calf that is separated from its mother. a lone dissenter, as an intellectual, an artist, or a politician, who takes an independent stand apart from his or her associates.
Origin: 1865–70, Americanism; after Samuel A. Maverick [1803–70], Texas pioneer who left his calves unbrandedSynonyms: nonconformist, independent, loner.
I won’t be voting for Barack Obama for president. There are too many vital issues — from taxes and spending, to immigration and national security, to traditional values — on which we have fundamentally different points of view about the right direction for our country. However, as the presidential campaign trail now makes its turn toward this state, and as South Carolinians make their final decisions on whom to vote for, it’s worth pausing to take notice of something important that the Obama candidacy means for our corner of America.
South Carolinians are rightly proud of our state’s rich heritage and history, dating from the earliest Colonial times and our ancestors’ heroic efforts in the Revolutionary War right up to the present day. I say this because we’re a state that loves history, and one of the nicest parts of my job lies in constantly being exposed to the extraordinary achievements of South Carolinians past and present. In the Obama candidacy, there is a potentially history-making quality that we should reflect on. It is one that is especially relevant on the sensitive topic of race — because South Carolina and the South as a whole bear a heavier historical burden than the rest of our country on that front.
As governor, I try to keep that historical burden in mind, because being sensitive to race has both policy and symbolic implications. I strongly believe that policies such as school choice and reforms to allow Medicaid recipients additional health care options will have a disproportionately positive impact on African-Americans in our state. Others disagree, favoring a larger role for government than the private sector, and those legitimate policy disagreements will always be with us in the political arena.
On the symbolic front: Having a more diversified Cabinet, issuing the first formal apology for the Orangeburg Massacre and traveling across the state line to Georgia to address the South Carolina NAACP convention have all represented small steps aimed at building bridges across waters that have divided us for too long as South Carolinians. In short, just like hundreds before me and scores of others trying in their own ways, I try to build bridges where I can — but I write because it all pales in comparison to the change that may be before us.
Sen. Obama is not running for president on the basis of his race, and no one should cast their ballot for or against him on that basis. Nonetheless, what is happening in the initial success of his candidacy should not escape us. Within many of our own lifetimes, a man who looked like Barack Obama had a difficult time even using the public restrooms in our state. What is happening may well say a lot about America, and I do think as an early primary state we should earnestly shoulder our responsibility in determining how this part of history is ultimately written.
I propose that the reason Mark Sanford expects us to "understand" is because his unresolved ambivalence is not a ruse. It’s a curse. There is a gulf between his thoughts and his emotions that rules his life. He acts on his feelings, but genuinely doesn’t know it. Likewise, I expect that he actually doesn’t know what he feels most of the time and relies on formulae – like "conservative principles" or "Christian principles" or the last crazy sermon he heard at C Street.
Likewise, though he speaks in vague, abstract terms, his ability to think abstractly is impaired. In this op-ed, he uses the term "symbolism," but all he can see in Obama is a black American. He sees Obama’s policies [Medicaid, School Choice] as "black." You don’t "build bridges" if things aren’t separated. I interpret his comment, "everybody is assigned their own secret-agent mission in life. And at times the tricky part, the hard part, is finding out what that secret-agent mission is" as being about his own relationship with his internal experience – it’s a secret. What’s tricky for Mark Sanford is knowing what he feels [if it’s not overwhelming].
And he knows he’s shot himself in the foot, big time. “I’m a wounded soldier; I took myself off the battlefield,” he says. “It’s not until you lose something in life that you appreciate some of your blessings. If I ever had the chance to get back on the playing field, it would be a great honor and a privilege and a blessing.”
Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone…Joni Mitchell
Mickey, this is a very perceptive analysis of an odd character. I think you are right on target. In my extended family, I have many professional Christianists (no disrespect meant to the majority of Christians, but these are people who wear it on their sleeve and talk about how wonderful they are for it). I think there’s a lot of similarity with the C Street mentality.
The idea is very big with them that “we’re all sinners.” That’s used to sort of wiggle out of anything. Just acknowledge that you’re a sinner, ask forgiveness, and all will be well. And you’re more noble for it.
When I objected to their equating homosexuality with sin — their response was: “we’re all sinners,” meaning you shouldn’t take offense at our demeaning attitude toward who you are. Yes, it’s a sin — but we don’t mean any disrespect, because “we’re all sinners.” Of course what they mean is that I should confess my sin.
It’s a mantra. So Sanford can say “I sinned” and go right on feeling not only forgiven but privileged because he has confessed and is struggling with it, as you say.