In truth, demonstrations of political courage are not only a
rara avis in both parties but today are practically extinct: In an era of Twitter outrage mobs that jump on every unorthodox statement by a politician as if it were betrayal, the cost of political courage is higher than ever.
Certainly most, if not all, of the GOP candidates privately think the Confederate flag should be pulled down from the state Capitol and put in a museum. So why, oh why, pundits ask, wouldnt these guys (and one woman) just come out and say that without waiting for Haley (a possible GOP veep candidate) to display some political courage on her own? Why couldnt they do what Bill Clinton did to great effect in 1992?
A brief tutorial for those too young to remember the days when Sam Malone and Murphy Brown ruled the airwaves: Sister Souljah was actually a relevant performer, and Clinton was an obscure Arkansas governor who played the saxophone and talked about the kind of underwear he favored. Back in the spring of that year, Clinton went before Jesse Jacksons Rainbow Coalition and criticized the group for giving a forum to the singer, whose lyrics included such thoughtful, healing lines as, If black people kill black people every day, why not have a week and kill white people?
Clintons seeming denunciation of his African-American allies shocked reporters. Which of course was what the campaign was going for. Writing in the
Chicago Tribune, Clarence Page
labeled it the most important moment of the 1992 race. And ever since then, the Sister Souljah moment became synonymous in campaign lore with a candidate showing political courage and independence.
This is the kind of thing so many people implored the Republicans to do over the past week. To stand up, denounce many South Carolinian voters, and demand that the flag be taken down.
Would that have been politically courageous? Probably. Which is why almost nobody did it.