I was talking to a friend of a friend after the 2004 election who said international opinions of Americans dropped far more after Bush’s second presidential campaign than after his first. The guy, whose family is from India, told me that people around the world follow U.S. elections and were aware of the fact that Bush came in second in 2000, but for a variety of reasons, managed to become president anyway. For this, the world was regretful, but their overall opinion of Americans didn’t suffer (much.). After all, most of us had the good sense to vote for someone else. Bush was, in essence, an accidental president.
That changed in 2004. We had a chance to set things right, but a majority of Americans wanted another four years. For this, the Indian friend told me, the world was less understanding. People started questioning our judgment and values as a country. 2000 wasn’t the electorate’s fault, but 2004 was. We had a chance to make a positive difference in the world, but we chose not to.
As Newsweek’s Howard Fineman noted today, we have one more chance — and the world is watching.
Call it the Borat Election. As Americans go to the polls today, they speak not only to themselves and their government, but also to the world. Across the planet, people want to know: do Americans still see the world the way George W. Bush does? Do they still accept (or tolerate) his theory of how to achieve peace and security? Or have Americans come to view him the way comedian Sacha Baron Cohen — slyly, through his Borat character — does: as a rootin’-tootin’, boorish fool who breaks every lamp in the antique store?
Do we believe in the president’s war in Iraq, or not? The world wants to know. It will react accordingly.
No pressure, America, but today could be a small step towards repairing America’s image in the world.
Voters are angry about the loss of American life and treasure, but many of them also worry about whether we are losing something just as precious, and as critical to our security: our sense of commanding moral mission in the world. Affluent corporate executives who tended to adore the president’s tax policies began (about a year ago) to tell me that they had come to dread their trips to Europe and Asia. “I hate having to endure a two-hour lecture before getting down to the sales discussion,” one CEO told me in California this fall.
The war, in other words, has become an impediment to sales.
The new generation of American college students is the most internationally minded ever, but their freedom of travel — a cherished right that Americans assume extends to the whole planet — is under threat. Does that matter? Only if we want to lead the world in the 21st century.
I think we do, but we’ll know more in, say, nine hours.