Twenty-one months is a lifetime in this, the age of the ten second soundbite. Twenty-one months is forever in the world of the twenty-four hour news cycle. Twenty-one months is essentially a million moments, any of which can prove to be the point of disaster. And yet those string of moments, a million strong and stretched out in a line, represents the current race for the President of the United States of America. The votes to be cast tomorrow surely represent fate, having the ability to decide the direction that this nation, and possibly the world, will follow for the next four years and the millions of moments that will stretch out from there. The race to become the forty-fourth President of this blatantly imperfect union has been less a race and more a war of attrition, tapping into the true military definition of the word campaign. It has been a battle, first within party, and then between parties. And that war has worn down not only those participating, but those of us who have been following. But at long last, we stand on the precipice of a decision.
In my lifetime, this election serves as a first. This election marks the first where I truly care who wins, and the first I’ll actually vote in.
My first adult Presidential Election was the infamous and ill-fated 2000 Election. I, like so many others, did not vote in this election. At the time I was a young man a few days on the other side of twenty years-old. I was living in Georgia but on Election Day I was in California, in the Mojave Desert, at the National Training Center. I was, for lack of a better term, busy. I had a Walkman with me, smuggled out into the active training area, The Box for those familiar with the locale, in the hip pouch that carried my gas mask. Said Walkman had an FM radio on it, and I was instructed by my squad leader, before sacking out for the night to not fall asleep before finding out who won the election.
We were, down to nearly a man, pulling for George W. Bush. Our reasons largely bore down to two primary reasons. The first was that Republicans historically give more money to the military. And when you’re forced to skip training exercises because your unit can’t afford ammunition, having a Republican in the White House is a rather important matter. The second, and this one might surprise people, is because Bush had made bringing the troops home a part of his campaign. Yes, George W. Bush had stood against nation building, and my unit was out in the Mojave preparing for a deployment to Kosovo in the Spring.
These two points were the primary reasons that I, and I believe much of the military, supported Bush’s run for President. They were not huge reasons, but soldiers are people. They have lives and families, and the thought of leaving loved ones for a year at a time can be a major determining factor in anyone’s live. When that decision is not yours to make, you exercise your preference in favor of those likely to decide in ways you approve. We didn’t like Bush anymore than we dislike Gore. Neither, using the military definition of the word, was a leader. At least not in 2000.
Me in Iraq sometime around Feb 2004
As even the most casual historian will point out, nation building did become a focal point of the Bush presidency, but not the reduction of it. September 11th happened. Afghanistan happened. And Iraq happened. I happened with Iraq, resigning from West Point to be there.
I had been back from the war and out of the Army a scant two months when the 2004 election happened. My mother and step-father were both ardent democrats. I, having only recently returned from war, had a natural distrust for Kerry. It was a spot of contention at many a family meal. I had been there, I had been the much clichéd boots on the ground. I been the living example of democracy via a rifle barrel, and I could not bring myself to possibly vote for the man who seemed to have quickly apologized for the war he had fought in for the promise of political silver.
George Bush, however, was not going to get my vote. While I had been in Iraq, and I had known those who claimed up and down to have spent time guarding WMD sites, I had never seen them with my own eyes. What I had seen were a string of moments both miraculous and terrible. And I had seen a situation in which I knew we could not yet afford to leave. Then, in the fall of 2004, Iraq was in a very fragile situation, only recently emerging into statehood of its own and potentially at a risk to collapse at any moment. It was important for the kids and for the future, that we stay in the nation.
Like 2000, there was not a leader available and running to fill the role as President. More so, I found myself unable to trust Kerry, having a hard time even saying his name. My extreme dislike of him forced me by default into the Bush camp. But even as I was in his camp, I could not vote for him. No, I couldn’t bring myself to make a decision between two tragic choices.
Early in this political season, I made the statement that if Obama and McCain each won their party’s nomination, I would have a hard decision ahead of me. Unlike the prior to top-level elections of my adult life, these two men were in fact leaders. Or they seemed at the onset.
Obama possessed the kind of charisma and the ability to construct words in such a fashion that men would charge up hills and gladly take on a nest of machine guns because he said to. Furthermore, Obama possessed the kind of leadership that suggested he would never ask us to charge that machine gun nest lest it were absolutely necessary. Beyond that, he would likely be at the front of the charge. He seemed measured, he seemed passionate, he seemed certain. In a word, Obama seemed to be a natural leader.
McCain had the benefit of coming from a military background. When you’ve served in uniform, even if you never made it through basic training, you have been exposed to this bond. That bond, which we veteran and active duty personnel seem to take for granted, is deep and it’s strong. It’s unspoken not because words are lacking, but because words are unnecessary. McCain also brought to this election a history of being a pragmatist. He, as he so often points out, has a history of crossing party lines.
Each candidate seemed to be a near ideal choice for President in these trying times. One so clearly represented unflinching ideals, tapping into the romanticism that had been lost on Oval Office since Kennedy. The other was practical and realistic, a man’s man, a straight talker, who had somehow been untouched by the Washington Way.
Alas, only one image would survive intact through those million moments. And just the same, only one can be elected. The tolls of the campaign seemed to have drug McCain down from that pragmatic position and worn him down to his most bitter parts. While this tactic can be considered common in a war of attrition, when a soldier is forced to rely on the basest functions to stay alive, the reality is that a President needs to be stronger than that.
I won’t go into a line-item criticism of John McCain out of respect for him, but I will say that despite these million moments, I am still excited about Obama. Yes, at times my affections for him have wained. At times he did drift too close to the center for my taste. And his lack of a filibuster on the FISA amendment did hurt. However, the man does still represent something that I strongly believe in – a drastic change. President Obama will be the polar opposite from that of a President Bush, something that a President McCain could not hope to possibly say. Obama’s campaign has been one of hope and change.
Frankly, President Obama represents the American dream – that of a new beginning.
Yes, that might be a bit of wishful thinking. After all, he is just a man. In the morning Obama puts his pants on one leg at a time. He has the same hopes and fears and apprehensions that the rest of us deal with day in and day out. But he also has an inner strength, a character that says “I am like you, and I can be scared, but when push comes to shove, you can count on me to make the right decisions.”
There is, of course, one very selfish reason why I am proud to cast my vote for Obama tomorrow. As I noted previously, I was in the first year of the modern Iraq war. I served with an amazing group of men the likes of which I could never possibly assemble again. Yet, my contract with the Army expired after the war, and I chose not to reenlist. Many of those that I had the pleasure to serve with were not so lucky. Some thought they were getting out only to be grabbed by the reserves and sent to Afghanistan. Others were locked in and have served their second or third tours in one theatre or another. And yes, some have lost their lives overseas. I have seen the kindest souls I have ever known turn bitter and cynical. This all has taken a very sound toll on me. I am, frankly, tired. I am ready for my brothers and sisters to come home. Barack Obama is the man to do that.
And that is the kind of man I will gladly cast a vote for. That is the kind of man that I want for President.
