Welcome to South Carolina, Democrats. We don’t play by normal rules.
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Version 0 of 1. Watching the Democratic debate in Las Vegas felt like watching a Quentin Tarantino movie. There was blood everywhere. About which South Carolinians might say: “Welcome to the Palmetto State, ladies and gentlemen. We love that stuff here.” In the state once described as “too small to be a republic and too large to be an insane asylum,” politics has always been a blood sport. This is surely attributable to the deep vein of Scots-Irish blood that runs through generations and descendants of the earliest settlers. Or, perhaps, it’s partly the vestige of the Civil War, which started here, too. Politics around here is just war by other means. We’re otherwise known for Rep. Joe Wilson’s “You lie!” during President Barack Obama’s 2009 address to a joint session of Congress and, years later, for Obama’s rendition of “Amazing Grace” at a funeral for one of the nine African Americans slaughtered during a prayer meeting at their church by a young white supremacist. The Confederate battle flag, which had stood sentry in front of the Statehouse after its earlier removal from the same building’s dome, finally was lowered and removed for good. When it comes to politics, South Carolinians don’t play by normal rules. Here, eccentrics tend to be favored and villains pardoned. Remember, it was Gov. Mark Sanford, who wandered off to “hike the Appalachian Trail” and ended up in the arms of his lover in Argentina. And then was elected to Congress. Sanford represented the “Lowcountry,” or low-lying coastal areas. A deep-port city, Charleston was once a hub for pirates, who seem to have infected the coastal zone with some of their wild spirit. As I was informed by the publisher of my first newspaper, the Charleston Evening Post, port cities tend to be more understanding of carnal transgressions than, say, their more provincial, inland cousins. (I don’t recall how this came up.) What makes 2020 different is that the Lowcountry has been transformed over the past decade by the arrival of many retirees from New York and New Jersey, as well as California and points in between, who have put down roots along the coast, from Myrtle Beach on down. No one knows, really, whether there are more Democrats than Republicans among the newcomers, but it may not matter. The Feb. 29 primary is open to both. About 150 miles away, in the center of the state, Columbia anchors the so-called Midlands, the state capital and the most important political event of the Democratic calendar, the annual fish fry hosted by House Majority Whip James E. Clyburn. Clyburn’s endorsement is priceless in a primary where more than half the voters are African American, but he hasn’t made one this year and probably won’t. (He declined to do so in 2008, as well.) Columbia can roughly be described as a large and pleasant suburb of itself. Home to about 133,000, the city is a reservoir of traditional values, divided deeply along racial lines. The mayor is an up-and-coming star named Stephen K. Benjamin, an African American who has endorsed Mike Bloomberg — who isn’t even on the primary ballot. Finally, “Up Country” South Carolina is anchored by Greenville County (pop. 514,000), an almost hip, thriving tech and business hub and home to Furman University, better known these days than the once-powerful Bob Jones University, which once forbade interracial dating and bathed the area with fundamentalist fervor. Hilly and far inland, this has always been the most conservative part of the state, and yet it is this part where Bernie Sanders and his gritty economic message fared best against Hillary Clinton in the 2016 primary. Overall, of course, South Carolina is still Trump country, much to the dismay of Democrats and at least some Republicans, who are forced to meet in undisclosed locations. But it’s a pivotal state for Democrats in presidential election years. We tend to make or break Democratic presidential campaigns: Clinton clobbered Sanders here 3 to 1 in 2016; she won every county that year. Obama got more than twice the vote of Clinton eight years before that. Although Joe Biden still leads here, thanks to support from African American voters, his light has dimmed with each debate. And it may surprise some people to learn that Tom Steyer has had more events here than any other candidate still in the race. What will it take to win it this year? That’s impossible to say, but I do have a few suggestions. Sanders might want to lower his voice a bit and go easy on the arm-waving. Biden should flash more charm and smile, which sells better than anger in this well-mannered state. This is one of many reasons Pete Buttigieg will do better here than people expect. Above all, be who you are, from wherever you are. It’s a legacy of having been invaded: We can smell impostors long before we see them. Read more from Kathleen Parker’s archive, follow her on Twitter or find her on Facebook. Read more: Hugh Hewitt: Bloomberg’s debate debacle is a part of his flawed strategy Ruth Marcus: How Bloomberg has unleashed my inner Sanders Howard Finemen: This presidential race is a New York hate-throuple of white, 70-something males The Post’s View: What Bernie Sanders, Michael Bloomberg and Donald Trump have in common |