"Yes. Mayor Pete is really that special." These words, reinforced by the following "Wouldn't it be great... if we had a president who was really smart? I mean really, really, really smart?" left a double taste. How, in a time of unspeakable, yet spoken stupidity and a drop in the sophistication of argument and political debate to the simultaneously academic and vernacular, could someone not be endeared by the promise of a highly educated (and with the speak, interests and grit to show for it, as opposed to a mere diploma and perfunctory letters) war veteran who endeared - to the tune of 80 % landslides - a middle-size post-industrial lackluster Indiana city as well? Adding to his gay (in at least two senses) image, pragmatic hand and aim and willingness to engage that could not suppress certain reminiscient images of the 2008 campaign, a multilingual renommé that seemed to challenge unchallenged vices of the intellectual candidate as well as every European preconception of Americans as stupid, prejudiced, inflexible, and equally lackluster as the gravel they rose from, Mayor Pete seemed only limited by the title of his office (and arguably his age) from sweeping up the coming 2020 primaries in a similar fashion, and go on to bring a wind of change to the Democratic party, the country it once governed as its own, and the world.
But what change? Buttigieg, as is his full name, and one of the Johnsons or Roberts' of Malta, has paraded a heterodox, conciliatory and quirky brand of political reform much in line with his own image. His healthcare plan, Medicare "for all who wants it", has been lambasted by more ambitious elements since release, but . In a country divided between those who would prefer to hold onto expensive plans with elusive but estimable benefits over the xenophilic abstraction of a federally mandated, government-run national plan, and those who worship "change" and "for all" in a manner equal a matter reminiscient of economic growth. Buttigieg's concept, akin to the cobble-work Affordable Care Act we have grown to love, endorse, hate, accept and nearly unanimously wants to shun one way or the other, may well stand scrutiny as a technocratic attempt to reconcile the dream of coverage for those who need it (arguably a position supported by most Americans) with the tranquility and integrity of freedom of contract for those who prefer their current masters (arguably an American argument supported by some) but rhymes bad with the chants of a political climate more polarised than since decades. In short; who wants it?
On foreign policy, Buttigieg has essentially accepted the axioms of the post-Truman, post-Soviet order and the United States' central role touted by the military-industrial-academic complex (or the globalist-imperialist elitist cabal, if you prefer) rather than indicating a will to demolish it, but also acknowledged the need for withdrawal. In this, he may prove a greater hawk than Trump, or in a different way. I doubt a major confrontation with the Truman order is about to take place within the Democrats, who with either Sanders/Warren or Biden/Harris is certain to endure, if under looming and possibly less than splendid isolation.
The ultimate problem, however, is a failure to produce any candidate of both the grit, persona and thought of Buttigieg and the wider experience of, say, Biden or other (ex-)senators not considerable this time, and it echoes back to the Democratic party. Personally, I would hold him in high esteem if only for his executive experience, which is an odd thing these days, and sorely missed. In the past, the American people have held up three senators for the presidency; two dead within their third year, and one with a full eight-year tenure against mounting divisions and a legacy of either momentous or (given the expectations) scant importance. Within both camps, the throng of senators is thick, and full of words spoken with less eloquence and substance than on the senate floor. Promises are racked for the next term, but seldom accumulated in the form of past efforts. This toxic culture, call it a curse of you will, may not be eternal but has clearly grown in insistence to lock a hold on primaries and conventions which will not bode well on the promise to deliver once the campaign is behind, the promises made, and all that is left the reality of government. For the same reason, the capitulation of Governor Inslee is a pity, if not to be mourned for long. In the future, especially after a loss against the Orange one, the not-going-to-be president of the next term as well as the current one, it may be that the rather than the nomination falls (again) to an unlikely governor of humble origins, or - less likely - a mayor or (a decreasing possibility) former Vice President, rather than a scion of the fantastically personal. (Or maybe, in line with the trend embarked, a CEO of nil political experience to counter another. I would not mind it.)
In this, Mayor Pete may have found, or been forced by circumstances into, a strange balance of an unlikely breed: Truly special, but with a mind to getting things done. We may see at a later date, but not likely at any in 2020.
Or, who the heck knows? Will this election year be yet another repeat of 2008?
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