More stories

  • in

    Running San Francisco Made Dianne Feinstein

    When I was interviewing Senator Dianne Feinstein in 2011 for a book about San Francisco’s tumultuous history from the 1960s to the ’80s, she suddenly began to tear off her microphone and terminate the exchange. My offense? I asked about her decision as mayor of the city to veto a 1982 ordinance that would have extended health insurance benefits to live-in partners of municipal employees, including lesbians and gay men. I managed to coax the irate Ms. Feinstein back into her chair, but she had clearly drawn a line: I’m ready to leave whenever I don’t like the direction this is headed.Ms. Feinstein could be imperious, thin-skinned and intolerant. She was also the leader that San Francisco sorely needed on Nov. 27, 1978, when she was abruptly thrust, at the age of 45, into City Hall’s Room 200 after Mayor George Moscone and Supervisor Harvey Milk were assassinated by another colleague, Dan White.“This will not be a rudderless city,” she firmly told the shellshocked public after the murders, even though she was shaken by them. When she met with the hastily assembled press soon after the killings, her skirt was stained with Mr. Milk’s blood.During her nine plus years as the first female mayor of the famously cantankerous metropolis, Ms. Feinstein won the grudging respect of the old boys’ network that had always run City Hall. She managed to steer San Francisco between the liberal, freewheeling future that Mr. Moscone aimed toward — the era of San Francisco values — and its older, more conservative traditions, including its downtown business interests. As mayor, she opposed rent control on vacant housing and some demands from the gay community, like domestic partner legislation. But she also pushed through a tough gun control ordinance, environmental regulations and pro-labor laws and hosted a wedding ceremony of lesbian friends in her backyard.All the while, she kept a strong hand on the rudder, emphasizing law and order and putting more cops on the streets but also drawing the line against police mayhem after the White Night riot and violent police sweep of the gay Castro district after the stunningly lenient verdict for Mr. White.“This city has to be managed,” she said. “If you don’t manage, it falls apart.”The Chinatown activist Rose Pak witnessed Ms. Feinstein’s hands-on approach one day when she was riding with her in the mayoral limousine. Spotting an older man collapsed on the sidewalk, Ms. Feinstein ordered her chauffeur to stop, jumped out, wiped foam from the stricken man’s lips and began administering mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on him. People later commented that this incident proved she was not a cold fish.“But I didn’t see it that way,” Ms. Pak recalled. “I saw her as a doctor’s daughter and a doctor’s widow, doing the proper clinical thing.”Most important, Ms. Feinstein became a national face of AIDS compassion when President Ronald Reagan was ignoring the growing suffering and conservative activists like Patrick Buchanan were crowing that the disease was nature’s “awful retribution” on gay men. When the gay progressive supervisor Harry Britt, who often clashed with the mayor, brought Ms. Feinstein the city’s first AIDS proposal in 1982, she told him simply, “Fund everything.”Other cities dumped their AIDS patients on San Francisco, including a notorious incident in 1983 when hospital officials in Gainesville, Fla., put a dying man on a plane to the city, miles from his loved ones. San Francisco took care of the sick men, but Ms. Feinstein denounced the practice as “outrageous and inhumane.”“Dianne spent more time visiting AIDS patients in hospitals than I did,” Mr. Britt remembered. “She was a giver. She was a very compassionate person. I don’t want to say ‘queenly,’ because that sounds negative, but she was a good queen.”Led by Ms. Feinstein — and the city’s gay and lesbian activists and frontline medical workers — San Francisco wrapped the sick and dying men in its arms and finally became the city of its eponymous friar, St. Francis, who cared for the needy.San Francisco made Dianne Feinstein, but until the gunfire that exploded at City Hall, she had concluded that her political career as a city supervisor was over. After returning from a challenging trek through the Himalayas that month with her future husband, the investment banker Richard Blum, she recalled, “I was firmly convinced I was not electable as mayor.”Ms. Feinstein was widely perceived as too starchy, a goody-goody, the Margaret Dumont in a wacky city filled with Marx Brothers. She was raised to be a political animal; her paternal uncle Morris Goldman, a clothing manufacturer and Democratic Party wheeler-dealer, took her as a girl to “board of stupidvisors” meetings and pointed out how the flick of a city boss’s cigar could change the vote tally. But later, as a young civic reformer, when she visited a hippie commune in the Haight-Ashbury district that had been trashed by a police raid or seedy porn theaters or the down-and-out Tenderloin neighborhood (where she posed as a prostitute in a wig), Ms. Feinstein came off as slightly ridiculous.Newly elected to the San Francisco Board of Supervisors, Ms. Feinstein addressed the hard-luck worshipers at Glide Memorial Church, lecturing them about the importance of good hygiene and hard work — and predictably got a tepid response from the congregation. “Dianne,” Glide’s minister, the Rev. Cecil Williams, told her later, “you don’t talk that way to these folks. If they had a place to get cleaned up, most of them would get cleaned up. If they could get a job, they’d get a job.”But Ms. Feinstein — a daughter of privilege, educated at the exclusive Convent of the Sacred Heart High School and Stanford University — did her political homework. She was ready to lead when history came calling.One day in 1979, when Ms. Feinstein, then the interim mayor, was campaigning for election, she went door to door in the city’s rough and redeveloped Fillmore district. Suddenly she was approached by a man who pointed a silver pistol at her head and pulled the trigger. She froze in fear; the City Hall assassinations happened the year before. Out of the man’s gun shot a butane flame instead of a bullet. She quickly gathered herself and went on campaigning. She won the election, even though The San Francisco Chronicle and key political establishment figures supported her more conservative opponent.“She ran the city with an iron fist,” Mike Hennessey, a progressive who served as San Francisco’s sheriff for 32 years, told me. “Of all the mayors I’ve worked with, she was the best. That’s because she took responsibility for this city. San Francisco is a very hard city to run. It’s very politically fractious. It takes a lot of work to hold it together. And that’s what Feinstein did.”In her three decades in the U.S. Senate, to which she was elected in 1992 (four years after her last term as mayor), Ms. Feinstein turned in a more mixed record. Over the years, she gained wide respect, even across the political aisle, for her hard work and political wisdom. But her success at banning assault weapons was undone, and her legislative record is uneven at best.In 2017, as a San Francisco Chronicle columnist, I warned Ms. Feinstein not to run again the next year for the Senate, writing that she would then be 85 and too old for the rigors of the job. But she didn’t listen — and neither did California’s voters.When I think of Dianne Feinstein, I think of her as San Francisco’s mayor. She may not have been the leader many San Franciscans (including me) wanted, but she was the one we needed.David Talbot is the author of, among other books, “Season of the Witch: Enchantment, Terror and Deliverance in the City of Love.” The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Twitter (@NYTopinion) and Instagram. More

  • in

    Republicans’ Promises to Combat Fentanyl Fall Flat With Some Voters

    The official toxicology report states that Andrea Cahill’s son died at 19 years old from an accidental fentanyl overdose. But more than three years after Tyler Cahill’s death in his childhood bedroom, she doesn’t believe that. It was a poisoning, she says, and there is no question about whom to blame: “the cartels.”Ms. Cahill believes the governments of Mexico and China should be punished for the drug’s flow into the United States. A political independent who nearly always votes for Republicans, she wants a president with relentless focus on the issue.“It does feel like maybe nobody cares,” she said.These days, Republican presidential candidates are working to convince people like Ms. Cahill that they share her urgency.Ron DeSantis talks about fentanyl in every stump speech, vowing to send the military into Mexico to target cartels. Nikki Haley has promised to send special operations forces across the border. Chris Christie has called for better access to treatment. Former President Donald J. Trump has offered few specific solutions but has tapped into victims’ families’ hunger to be seen: He likens deaths from the drug to wartime casualties.At Wednesday night’s debate, the candidates linked the crisis to immigration and foreign policy, and hammered home the toll.“We have had more fentanyl that have killed Americans than the Iraq, Vietnam and Afghanistan wars combined,” Ms. Haley noted.The promises are required of any politician wanting to appear in touch with New Hampshire, a state that can make or break presidential campaigns. As fentanyl has become one of the most urgent health crises in the country — it is now a leading cause of death for people under 45 — it has ravaged the small state. Last year, opioid overdose deaths hit a four-year high, though down slightly from their peak in 2017, according to state data. Most were from fentanyl.But truly connecting with voters — persuading them that help could be on the way — is proving difficult. In dozens of interviews with people on the front lines of the fight against fentanyl, a sense of abandonment is pervasive. Many said they believed the federal government did too little to stop the epidemic from happening and that it continues to do too little to try to bring it under control.The candidates’ talk of blockades and military intervention is met with cynicism and a deep distrust that their government can find solutions.“I don’t see it getting better if it’s Trump or Biden or whoever is going to step in,” said Shayne Bernier, 30, who fought opioid addiction years ago and is now helping to open a sober-living home in downtown Manchester, N.H. For more than a year, Mr. Bernier has patrolled parks and streets routinely, giving information about a city-funded detox program.Shayne Bernier fought opioid addiction years ago and now patrols the streets and parks of Manchester, N.H. He thinks politicians’ attention to the issue will be fleeting: “They’ll talk about it for an election, and then we’ll never hear from them again.”Mr. Bernier grew up in the city and has “Live Free or Die,” the official state motto, tattooed on his left bicep. He considers himself a conservative. He neither loves nor loathes Mr. Trump, though he understands how the former president appeals to the anger and frustration that courses through his friends.“They’ll talk about it for an election, and then we’ll never hear from them again,” he said of politicians’ promises to address the crisis.Five years ago, Mr. Trump traveled to New Hampshire and remarked how “unbelievable” it was that the state had a death rate from drugs double the national average. When he promised to secure the border “to keep the damn drugs out” the audience responded by chanting: “Build that wall!”The drugs never stopped coming in. The supply only increased, with heroin entirely eclipsed by fentanyl, its cheaper and deadlier synthetic cousin. The state is less of an outlier than it once was: In one recent public opinion poll, more than a quarter of American adults ranked opioids and fentanyl as the greatest threat to public health.To some extent, Mr. DeSantis has picked up where Mr. Trump left off. He promises to shoot drug traffickers “stone cold dead,” a vow consistently met with applause. He largely casts the problem as a symptom of a porous border, giving conservatives another reason to rail against illegal immigration.Tough talk about the Southern border brings some comfort to parents like Ms. Cahill. It’s unclear how her son got the drug that killed him. A video Tyler recorded and shared with a friend that night suggests he took what he believed to be Percocet to relieve pain from a recent tattoo, she says. His father found him dead the next morning.“I had no idea how deadly it could be, how immediate — you can’t call for help,” she said. She keeps fliers in her car that warn “there is no safe experience” using street drugs.But placing the blame on illegal border crossings is misleading. A vast majority of fentanyl in the United States enters through legal ports of entry, according to the Drug Enforcement Administration. Typically, U.S. citizens driving across the border smuggle in the drugs, stuffing them into trailers, trunks or vehicle linings. Keith Howard, who runs Hope for New Hampshire Recovery, a peer-support community group in Manchester, grimaces when he hears candidates talk about a border crackdown as a viable solution. Mental health support, well-paying jobs and long-term treatment programs are even more important, he said.“There is a need to escape from life for a lot of people right now,” Mr. Howard said. “The sense of alienation people have is much, much deeper than it was 10 or even five years ago.”Nikki Haley has promised to do more to target China’s funneling of chemicals used to create fentanyl.Chris Christie says politicians haven’t been honest with voters about solutions.When Mr. Christie, a former governor of New Jersey, visited Hope for New Hampshire Recovery earlier this year, he notably did not mention the border. He served as the chair for Mr. Trump’s special commission to combat the opioid crisis, but many of the recommendations in the 138-page report that the commission issued in 2017 went nowhere. Mr. Christie blamed the pandemic, but he also said the Trump administration did not focus enough on crafting specific policies and programs.Since then, he said, the crisis has worsened, and politicians haven’t been straight with voters about solutions.“It’s dishonest to lead people to believe that you can enforce your way out of this problem,” he said in an interview, adding that he would support sending National Guard troops to legal ports of entry to help Border Patrol agents intercept drugs. At the same time, he added: “I don’t want to fool the American people into thinking that if I send National Guard to the Southern border, that will solve the problem.” President Biden has focused on both expanding enforcement and improving treatment. In March, the Food and Drug Administration approved over-the-counter sales of Narcan, a nasal spray that reverses opioid overdoses. Mr. Biden has called for closer inspection of cargo and stronger penalties for those caught trafficking drugs. Recently, he criticized the Republican-controlled Congress for risking a federal shutdown, which would prevent billions allocated to the D.E.A., Department of Homeland Security and Border Patrol to address the crisis.Victoria Sullivan considers Mr. Biden’s approach a failure. A former Republican state lawmaker in New Hampshire and political talk show host, Ms. Sullivan this year helped open a sober-living home for men in recovery.Ms. Sullivan calls her role “government cleanup,” as she tries to fill gaps left by local agencies. She is convinced the city’s drug policies are too permissive and drawing people from around the region to Manchester’s streets. (Roughly a quarter of people who are homeless in Manchester report that they are from the city.)Some advocates argue that Manchester’s permissive policies have drawn people from around the region to the city’s streets.Ms. Sullivan says the problem requires more aggressive interventions, accessible medical treatment, strong families and religious institutions. Her solutions hit at a contradiction in many Republicans’ views about the drug crisis: She is unabashed about her conservative, small government views, but she argues that agencies need to spend more money on rehabilitation programs.“The government has just failed at every level,” Ms. Sullivan said. “They encourage dependence but don’t do anything near enough to get anyone on their feet on their own.”Ms. Sullivan has voted for Mr. Trump in the past and still supports him. But she also been impressed by Ms. Haley, a former ambassador to the United Nations, who earlier this year hosted a discussion at Freedom House, the sober-living home Ms. Sullivan helped create. There, Ms. Haley promised to do more to target China’s funneling of chemicals used to create fentanyl brought into the United States.Victoria Sullivan, a former Republican state lawmaker in New Hampshire and political talk show host, said she wanted the government to spend more money on rehabilitation programs.Patrick Burns, 35, grew up in rural Maine, where he began pilfering his mother prescription opioids as a teenager. At 17, he enlisted in the Army and served for several years in Afghanistan.When he returned in 2013, nearly everyone he grew up with was battling an addiction of some kind. He moved to Manchester partly to be closer to a larger Veterans Affairs Medical Center, thinking he could get more help there. Instead, he ran into one bureaucratic hurdle after another and said he found fentanyl all around him.“We’re just a bunch of people who have been discarded,” said Patrick Burns, an Army veteran who struggled to get help with his addiction.Mr. Burns voted for Mr. Trump once before and could imagine doing so again. What he finds harder to imagine, he said, is that the government that sent him to war can find a way out of the morass he sees in Manchester.“People just don’t have a clue — it’s become such a problem,” Mr. Burns said. “Now rather than address it, they just kind of ignore it. They try to mitigate the effects, but there are not pre-emptive strikes at all. We’re just a bunch of people who have been discarded.”Ms. Cahill has tried to ensure that Tyler is remembered. She allowed his photograph to be displayed in the Washington headquarters of the Drug Enforcement Administration, and attended a rally at the state capitol earlier this year to raise awareness.That day, she stood with another mother in Concord, N.H., to pass out Narcan to anyone who walked by. When she offered it to two teenage boys, their father stepped in to intervene. “No thanks; they’re good kids,” she remembered him telling her, before shuffling them away.Ms. Cahill was taken aback.“That’s not the point,” she said, recalling the incident. “Tyler was a good kid. This stuff is out there whether we want to acknowledge it or not.”Nicholas Nehamas More

  • in

    Meet the Republican Voters at the Heart of the G.O.P. Identity Crisis

    Republican voters are looking to the presidential debate stage as they decide who should win the party primaries. And even though Donald Trump lost the 2020 election, his return to the top of the ticket feels all but inevitable. But at least one-third of Republican voters are left wondering why their party can’t quit this guy.The Opinion deputy editor Patrick Healy guides us through a recent focus group discussion with 13 longtime Republican voters who are desperate for their party to get over the Trump appeal, lest the G.O.P. risk losing their support in the 2024 election.Illustration by Akshita Chandra/The New York Times; Photograph by Burazin/Getty ImagesThe Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Twitter (@NYTopinion) and Instagram.This Opinion Short was produced by Phoebe Lett. It was edited by Kaari Pitkin. Mixing by Carole Sabouraud. Original music by Efim Shapiro, Pat McCusker and Carole Sabouraud. Fact-checking by Mary Marge Locker. Audience strategy by Shannon Busta and Kristina Samulewski. Special thanks to Alison Bruzek and Jillian Weinberger. More

  • in

    We Need to Talk About Joe Biden

    Michelle Cottle, Ross Douthat, Carlos Lozada and Listen to and follow ‘Matter of Opinion’Apple Podcasts | Spotify | Amazon MusicIn 2020, Joe Biden handily beat Donald Trump in a race that was never particularly close. But now that the twice-impeached and four-times-indicted former president may once again be the Republican nominee, polls suggest they might be even, at best. Why isn’t Biden doing better? Has his presidency really gone so poorly?This week on “Matter of Opinion,” the hosts discuss the uphill battle Biden is facing heading into 2024 and debate what kind of leader Americans really want.(A full transcript of the episode will be available midday on the Times website.)Illustration by The New York Times; Photograph by Evan Vucci/Associated PressMentioned in this episode:“Reagan Should Not Seek Second Term, Majority Believes,” by Barry Sussman in The Washington PostThoughts? Email us at matterofopinion@nytimes.com.Follow our hosts on Twitter: Michelle Cottle (@mcottle), Ross Douthat (@DouthatNYT), Carlos Lozada (@CarlosNYT) and Lydia Polgreen (@lpolgreen).“Matter of Opinion” is produced by Sophia Alvarez Boyd, Phoebe Lett and Derek Arthur. It is edited by Stephanie Joyce. Mixing by Pat McCusker. Original music by Isaac Jones, Efim Shapiro, Carole Sabouraud and Pat McCusker. Our fact-checking team is Kate Sinclair, Mary Marge Locker and Michelle Harris. Audience strategy by Shannon Busta and Kristina Samulewski. Our executive producer is Annie-Rose Strasser. More

  • in

    DeSantis Clears a Debate Hurdle. Will It Be Enough to Build On?

    The Florida governor projected confidence onstage, but time is running out to stop his slide in the polls and convince voters he’s the best Trump alternative.At a time when his standing in the polls has slid — and Republican donors have talked about finding another candidate to stop Donald J. Trump from cruising to the nomination — Gov. Ron DeSantis acted like the former president’s leading challenger at the second Republican presidential debate.Standing center stage at the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library on Wednesday night, he deployed a newly assertive tone against the absent Mr. Trump, using criticisms he has been honing in recent weeks at the urging of his allies. He drew attacks from rivals who did show up, but none seemed to land a killer blow. And despite not saying a word until 15 minutes in, he ultimately imposed himself on the proceedings, speaking more than any other candidate.“Donald Trump is missing in action,” Mr. DeSantis said during his first remarks of the debate. “He should be on this stage tonight. He owes it to you to defend his record where they added $7.8 trillion to the debt.”The question is whether the performance will be enough now to stop him from losing ground and to build momentum. Time is running out to convince both skeptical voters and skittish donors that he is still the most competitive challenger to Mr. Trump than anyone else in the field. Mr. Trump’s standing in the race has only risen since the first debate in August, which he also skipped, and national surveys show him leading Mr. DeSantis by roughly 40 percentage points But as his rivals onstage Wednesday night clamored for airtime, conscious of their fading window, the Florida governor projected an air of confidence.“This is a two-man race,” Andrew Romeo, Mr. DeSantis’s communications director, told reporters in the spin room following the debate.Still, it was not exactly a breakout showing, and the debate may be best remembered for the seven candidates chaotically shouting over each other as the moderators tried to regain control. Even Mr. DeSantis conceded in an interview with Fox News after the debate that, had he been watching as a viewer, he would have “changed the channel.”Steven Cheung, a spokesman for Mr. Trump, said that Mr. DeSantis had “embarrassed” himself in front of the entire country, a seeming confirmation that the former president’s team still sees him as enough of a threat. (Mr. Trump’s team also sent out an email blast assailing Nikki Haley, the former South Carolina governor and former ambassador to the United Nations.)Over the summer, Mr. DeSantis’s campaign strategy crystallized into one clear imperative: beat Mr. Trump in Iowa, the first state to vote in the Republican primary. Such a victory would pierce the sheen of the former president’s invincibility and potentially force some of the other candidates to drop out, his supporters say, allowing Mr. DeSantis to consolidate support.Having poured his resources into Iowa, and seen Mr. Trump attack the state’s popular governor and anger its influential anti-abortion activists, a win there seems more plausible for Mr. DeSantis than it did ahead of the first debate in Milwaukee. At that encounter, the other candidates avoided criticizing Mr. DeSantis, even as they could have taken advantage of his reputation as prickly and awkward when attacked.By the second debate on Wednesday night, however, their calculations had changed, and Mr. DeSantis was squarely in the cross hairs.Former Vice President Mike Pence went after him over increased government spending in Florida, as well as the Parkland school shooter’s not receiving the death penalty (a decision by a jury that was not in Mr. DeSantis’s control and to which he responded by signing a bill making it easier to execute people). Senator Tim Scott of South Carolina sparred with the governor over how slavery is taught in Florida schools, a frequent topic of dispute between the two men.Ms. Haley attacked him for opposing offshore drilling and fracking in Florida as governor while pushing for more oil and gas extraction in the United States as a presidential candidate. Of all the barbs, that one seemed to cut the sharpest. As Ms. Haley talked, Mr. DeSantis theatrically and somewhat uncomfortably laughed, saying that she was “entirely wrong,” although the thrust of her criticism was largely accurate.The attacks helped make Mr. DeSantis the center of attention in a way he was not in Milwaukee. And rather than starting fights of his own, and allowing other candidates to take back the spotlight, Mr. DeSantis generally stuck to his talking points on immigration, China and the economy while criticizing President Biden and Democrats.He even led the other candidates in a mini-revolt against the moderators, refusing to engage in a gimmicky attempt to have those onstage write down the name of the rival they thought should drop out of the race.Still, the bulk of Mr. DeSantis’s attention clearly remains on Mr. Trump.After the debate, he told the Fox News host Sean Hannity that he wanted to face Mr. Trump one-on-one.“I think he owes it to our voters to come and make the case,” Mr. DeSantis said. More

  • in

    The Messy G.O.P. Debate Didn’t Turn Off These Voters

    Ron DeSantis won praise for his education policies and Nikki Haley got points for passion at a debate watch party in New Hampshire.The voters gathered at a brewery in Goffstown, N.H., to watch the second Republican presidential debate on Wednesday night were excited about many of the options on the stage at the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library. They were also looking forward to having fewer of them.“I’m hoping they’re going to narrow down the candidates,” said Jennifer Vallee, 45, a stay-at-home mom who lives in Goffstown. “I want to hear more from the candidates that actually have a fighting chance to make it towards the end.”Ms. Vallee, a supporter of former President Donald J. Trump, was among 28 local Republicans and Republican-leaning independents who gathered at Mountain Base Brewery in this suburb of Manchester for an informal watch party and potluck organized by Lisa Mazur, a local state representative. Over barbecue and smoked Gouda dip, they considered the contenders, seeing more to like than dislike among the seven candidates vying for their votes.“Who do we think did better than expected?” Jared Talbot, 46, a defense contractor employee and local school board member, asked as the debate wound down.“DeSantis!” several people called out.Although many in the group favored Gov. Ron DeSantis of Florida, they had been underwhelmed by his performance in the first Republican debate, on Aug. 23, and were hoping for a stronger showing on Wednesday. Many in the room were self-identified “parents rights” advocates, and cheered Mr. DeSantis’s criticism of college gender studies programs and his boast that “I ended up getting through Yale and Harvard Law School and somehow came out more conservative than when I went in.”Several of Mr. Trump’s rivals for the nomination are banking on New Hampshire’s early primary, with its storied history of scrambling, or at least spicing up, presidential races, as their best hope for breaking the former president’s stride toward the nomination.The debate watchers in Goffstown had seen many of the candidates in person during their dozens of appearances in the state in recent months. Although the crowd tilted toward Mr. DeSantis and the entrepreneur Vivek Ramaswamy, most candidates on the stage had their partisans — even Gov. Doug Burgum of North Dakota, who narrowly qualified for the stage hours before the debate. (“I’m always the person who likes the outlier,” John Lombo, 45, a hazardous materials auditor for UPS and the lone Burgum supporter in the room, explained.)Many of them were using the debate as an opportunity to shop for vice-presidential favorites. “She’s passionate!” Mr. Talbot, who has endorsed Mr. DeSantis, said admiringly as Nikki Haley, the former South Carolina governor and ambassador to the United Nations, clashed with Tim Scott, the South Carolina senator, late in the evening.Ms. Mazur, who also supports Mr. DeSantis, was less impressed by the exchange. “I liked her in the first debate,” she said. “This time, it was a little much.”Still, most of the crowd seemed impressed by the former governor’s feisty back-and-forth with Mr. Scott, whom she appointed to the U.S. Senate, which seemed to establish her mettle even as it made them question his.“I’m looking to see who can hold their ground, because that is someone who can hold their ground in the long term,” Heather Pfeifer, 48, a home-schooling mother who lives in Goffstown, said. “I love Tim Scott, I’m just not sure he’s a strong enough candidate to get to the place he needs to be.”She added, “I really think Haley might be my favorite.”Nikki Haley is among the candidates who have made dozens of appearances in New Hampshire in recent months.John Tully for The New York TimesMr. Ramaswamy, a first-time candidate, won a number of fans with his Aug. 23 debate performance. “I went into that debate really watching Ron DeSantis,” said Henry Giasson, a 44-year-old leather store owner and Army veteran, “and I came out watching Vivek Ramaswamy.”Some attendees remarked appreciatively on Mr. Ramaswamy’s toned-down demeanor Wednesday night after his attention-grabbing turn in August. “He’s a brilliant speaker,” Mr. Giasson said.When former Vice President Mike Pence took a jab at Mr. Ramaswamy’s patchy voting record — he has said he did not vote in the 2008, 2012 or 2016 elections — on Wednesday night, Mr. Giasson leaped to his defense: “Where’d that come from?” he said, adding sarcastically, “That was classy.”In the Granite State, Republican candidates face an electorate uncommonly marbled with libertarians, moderates and independents — unaffiliated voters are allowed to vote in primaries. The state’s voters delight in unmaking inevitabilities and legitimizing long shots — among them Mr. Trump, whose landslide victory in New Hampshire in 2016 jolted the Republican Party into taking his candidacy seriously.Mr. Trump remains the Republican primary favorite in New Hampshire by a large margin in the early polling in this election, too. But a recent CNN poll found him performing well below his national average in the state, with fewer than half of Republican voters naming him as their first or second choice. The same survey found Mr. DeSantis, Mr. Trump’s closest rival in early polling, in free-fall in New Hampshire, suggesting an open contest for second place at the very least.Perhaps none of the candidates has invested as heavily in the state as Chris Christie, the former New Jersey governor and the only overtly anti-Trump candidate in the field, who launched his campaign in Goffstown and has made more than two-thirds of his campaign appearances in the state. But Mr. Christie’s moments in the debate were mostly met with silence from the Goffstown crowd.“He’s the only one I’d take off the stage,” said Karen Monasky, 73, a retired occupational therapist and a Republican-voting independent who met Christie during one of his many swings through the area.Still, reviewing the performances as the debate came to a close, several of the attendees conceded that Mr. Christie had a decent night.“The goal is to beat Biden,” Mr. Lombo said. “Even Chris Christie, who I can’t stand, is better than Joe Biden.” More

  • in

    J.D. Vance Is Not Your Usual Political Opportunist

    J.D. Vance was trying to find his groove. I had just shown up at his office last week to interview the Ohio Republican about his first nine months in the Senate, where he has proved curiously hard to pigeonhole. As we sat down, Mr. Vance — at 39, one of the chamber’s youngest members — squirmed in his ornate leather arm chair, complaining that it was uncomfortable. Whoever used it previously, he explained, had created a “giant ass print” that made it a poor fit for him.Then the senator kicked a foot up on the low coffee table in front of him. This gave me a glorious view of his custom socks: a dark-red background covered with pictures of his 6-year-old son’s face. On the far end of the table was a Lego set of the U.S. Capitol that his wife had bought him on eBay for Father’s Day. With his crisp dark suit, casual manner and personal touches, Mr. Vance suddenly looked right at home. I suspected there was some grand metaphor in all this about the young conservative working to carve out his spot in this world of old leather and hidebound traditions.I asked what had been his most pleasant discovery about life in the Senate. “I’ve been surprised by how little people hate each other in private,” he offered, positing that much of the acrimony you see from lawmakers was “posturing” for TV. “There’s sort of an inherent falseness to the way that people present on American media,” he said.This may strike many people as rich coming from Mr. Vance, who is one of the Republican Party’s new breed of in-your-face, culture-warring, Trump-defending MAGA agitators. And indeed, Mr. Vance knows how to throw a partisan punch. Yet in these early days on the job, he has also adopted a somewhat more complicated political model, frequently championing legislation with Democrats, including progressives such as Elizabeth Warren and Tammy Baldwin.Pragmatic bipartisan MAGA troll feels like a dizzying paradoxical line to toe. And it risks feeding into the larger critique of Mr. Vance as a political opportunist. This is, after all, the guy who won attention in the 2016 election cycle as a harsh conservative critic of Mr. Trump, only to undergo a stark MAGA makeover and spend much of his 2022 Senate race sucking up to the former president. “I don’t know that I can disrespect someone more than J.D. Vance,” Mitt Romney, the Utah senator and former Republican presidential nominee, told his biographer about the party’s 2022 midterm contenders. “It’s like, really? You sell yourself so cheap?”Mr. Vance is not one to ignore such swipes. “Mitt Romney is one to talk about changing his mind publicly. He’s been on every side of 35 different issues,” he clapped back to Breitbart News.But there seems to be something going on with Mr. Vance beyond the usual shape-shifting flip-floppery. He contends that his approach is the more honest, hopeful path to getting things done for the conservative grass roots. In his telling, he’s not the cynical operator; his critics are.In some respects — especially with his defense of Mr. Trump — the freshman senator is transparently full of bull. But when it comes to how to navigate and possibly even make progress in today’s fractious G.O.P., not to mention this dysfunctional Congress, he may well be onto something.Mr. Vance and I sat down on a morning when Congress was all a dither over a possible government shutdown being driven by a spending fight among House Republicans. While sympathetic to his colleagues’ concerns, Mr. Vance saw the battle as unfocused, unproductive and bad for the party.“My sense is this shutdown fight will go very poorly for us unless we’re very clear about what we’re asking for,” he told me. With different blocs of Republicans demanding different things, “that’s just going to get confused, and the American people are going to punish us for it.”He argued that if the conservatives would hunker down and focus, they could get one major concession. “And we should be fighting for that one thing,” he said. What did he think they should prioritize? “If we could get something real on border security, then that would be a deal worth taking.”Mr. Vance described himself less an ideological revolutionary than a principled pragmatist. He did not come to Washington to blow up the system or overhaul how the Senate operates. He said his outlook was, “There are things I need to get done, and I will do whatever I need to do to do them.”If this means making common cause with the political enemy now and again, so be it. “I am a populist in a lot of my economic convictions, and so that will lead to opportunities to working with Democrats,” he reasoned.Mr. Vance’s cross aisle endeavors include teaming up with Ms. Warren to push legislation that would claw back compensation from bank executives who were richly paid even as they were “crashing their banks into a mountain,” as Mr. Vance put it. He has joined forces with Ms. Baldwin on a bill that would ensure that technologies developed with taxpayer money are manufactured in the United States. He is working with Senators Amy Klobuchar and Ron Wyden on a bill to reduce thefts of catalytic converters. And in the coming weeks, his focus will be on pushing through railway safety reform that he and Ohio’s senior senator, Sherrod Brown, introduced in the wake of the derailment disaster in East Palestine. That is the bill about which he was most optimistic. “We have 60 votes in private,” he said.Even if nothing makes it through this year, Mr. Vance is playing the long game. “Those productive personal relationships are quite valuable because they may not lead to an actual legislative package tomorrow, but they could two years from now,” he said.Squishy “relationship” talk can be dangerous in today’s G.O.P., even for members of the relatively genteel Senate. Being labeled a RINO — that is, a Republican in Name Only — generally earns one the sort of opprobrium normally reserved for child sex traffickers.But here’s where his MAGA antics may provide a bit of cover. In his brief time in Washington, the senator has proved himself an eager and a prolific culture warrior. The first bill he introduced — an important moment in any senator’s career — aimed to make English the nation’s official language. In July, after the Supreme Court ruled against affirmative action in university admissions, he fired off a letter to the eight Ivy League schools, plus a couple of private colleges in Ohio, warning them to retain any records that might be needed for a Senate investigation of their practices. That same month, he introduced a bill to ban gender-affirming care for minors. He even waded into the hysteria last winter over the health risks of gas stoves. This month, he’s out hawking a bill that would ban federal mask mandates for domestic air travel, public transit systems and schools, and bar those institutions from denying service to the maskless.Perhaps most vitally, Mr. Vance remains steadfast in his support of Mr. Trump. In June, he announced he was putting a hold on all Justice Department nominees in protest of “the unprecedented political prosecution” of Mr. Trump. And he plans to work hard as a surrogate to return the MAGA king to the White House. “I’m thinking about trying to be as active a participant as possible.”J.D. Vance during a Trump campaign rally last year.Megan Jelinger/Agence France-Presse — Getty ImagesHis critique of Mr. Trump’s critics can be brutal.“Trump is extraordinarily clarifying on the right and extra confusing on the left,” he said. The hatred for Trump among progressives is so strong that people cannot see past it to acknowledge the former president’s “good parts,” he contended. While among conservatives, “Trump has this incredible capacity to identify really, who the good people are on the right and who the bad people are on the right.”Elaborating on the “bad” category, he points to former Representative Liz Cheney and the neoconservative writer Bill Kristol. “They say, ‘Donald Trump is an authoritarian’ — which I think is absurd. ‘Donald Trump is anti-democratic’ — which, again, in my view is absurd. I think they’re hiding their real ideological disagreements,” he argued.Mr. Vance is entitled to his view, of course. But glibly rejecting stated concerns about Mr. Trump’s anti-democratic inclinations — and characterizing his critics’ reactions as “obsessive” — would strike many as the real absurdity.Asked specifically about Mr. Trump’s election fraud lies, which Mr. Vance has at times promoted, the senator again shifted into slippery explainer mode. “I think it’s very easy for folks in the press to latch onto the zaniest election fraud or stolen election theories and say, ‘Oh this is totally debunked,’” he said. “But they ignore that there is this very clear set of institutional biases built into the election in 2020 that — from big tech censorship to the way in which financial interests really lined up behind Joe Biden.”“People aren’t stupid. They see what’s out there,” he said. “Most Republican grass roots voters are not sympathetic to the dumbest version of the election conspiracy. They are sympathetic to the version that is actually largely true.”Except that, as evidence of what is “actually largely true,” Mr. Vance pointed to a 2021 Time article detailing a bipartisan effort not to advance a particular candidate but to safeguard the electoral system. More important, the “dumbest” version of the stolen election conspiracy is precisely what Mr. Trump and his enablers have been aggressively spreading for years. It is what drove the Jan. 6 attack on the U.S. Capitol, landed many rioters in prison, led to Fox News paying a $787.5 million defamation settlement and prompted grand juries to indict Mr. Trump in federal and state courts. Mr. Vance may want to believe that most Republicans are too smart to buy such lunacy, but he is too smart not to recognize the damage to American democracy being wrought by that lunacy.As for those who criticize his approach, Mr. Vance saw them as out of sync with voters. The conservative grass roots are “extremely frustrated with Washington not doing anything,” he said. “I think if you are a critic of them — if you are a critic of the way they see the world — you see people who want to blow up the system. Who are just pissed off. And they want fighters.” And not necessarily fighters who are “directed” or strategic in their efforts, he said, so much as just anyone who channels that rage.By contrast, “if you’re sympathetic to them and you like them,” he continued, you understand that “the problem is not that people don’t bitch enough or complain enough on television.” Rather, it’s that voters are fed up that “nothing changes” even when they “elect successive waves of different people. So I actually think being a bridge builder and getting things done is totally consistent with this idea that people are pissed off at the government as do-nothing.”When I asked how Mr. Vance defined his political positioning, he abruptly popped out of his chair and hurried over to his desk. He returned with a yellow sticky note on which he drew a large grid. Along the bottom of the paper he scrawled “culture” and on the left side, “commerce.” He started drawing dots as he explained: “I think the Republican Party has tended to be here” — top right quadrant, indicating a mix of strong cultural and pro-business conservatism. He added, “I think the Democratic Party has tended to be here,” pointing to the bottom left quadrant, which in his telling represents a strong liberal take on both. “And I think the majority, certainly the plurality of American voters — and maybe I’m biased because this is my actual view — is somewhere around here,” he said, placing them on the grid to suggest that people are “more conservative on cultural issues but they are not instinctively pro-business.”Michelle CottleMr. Vance reminded me that he has always been critical of his party’s pro-business bias. And it is primarily in this space that he is playing nice with Democrats.Bridge builder. Deal Maker. MAGA maniac. Trump apologist. Call Mr. Vance whatever you want. And if you find it all confused or confusing, don’t fret. That may be part of the point. Mr. Trump’s Republican Party is something of a chaotic mess. Until it figures out where it is headed, a shape-shifting MAGA brawler who quietly works across the aisle on particular issues may be the best this party has to offer.The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Twitter (@NYTopinion) and Instagram. More

  • in

    Trump vs. Biden Would Be a Battle of Two Words

    Politicians’ language can tell you a lot about the way they think, sometimes unintentionally.In this audio essay, Opinion columnist Carlos Lozada breaks down the significance behind Joe Biden’s favorite word for talking about America and how it contrasts with Donald Trump’s word of choice.Illustration by The New York Times; photographs by Evan Vucci/Associated Press and Jamie Kelter Davis for The New York TimesThe Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Twitter (@NYTopinion) and Instagram.This Opinion short was produced by Phoebe Lett and Derek Arthur. It was edited by Stephanie Joyce and Annie-Rose Strasser. Mixing and original music by Sonia Herrero. Fact-checking by Mary Marge Locker. Audience strategy by Kristina Samulewski. More