Finally, chapter six of Decision 2012
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For years South Carolina’s governor had been receiving buzz about a potential bid for the presidency. Why not, his admirers would say. Mark Sanford’s conservative credentials were beyond dispute. Although something of an establishment Republican, Sanford enjoyed the loyal support of his state’s evangelical community, which was more than could be said for some of his potential nomination rivals. Even more attractive was the man’s personal story; born to loving parents in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, Sanford knew what it was like to live through challenges. Despite the fact his family was middle-class, they often slept in the same room in order to conserve electricity. Fast forward to the 2010 midterms and he had become one of the most powerful and influential Republicans in the country. Six years as Congressman for South Carolina’s 1st congressional district, seven as the state’s governor, and the recently elected RGA chairman, Sanford had amassed a large number of financial and political contacts from Massachusetts to California. In Sanford conservatives saw a candidate who had consistently won on the conservative doctrine.
Yet the fifty-year old politician, with folksy charm and salt and pepper hair and blue-collar appeal, ended 2010 expressing his concern over a potential run. What about the impact on his family and their privacy? His kids would get hounded by ravenous journalists looking for a story. What about the other candidates? He was on his way out as governor of his state, and possessed little actual income, so how would his family make ends meat? While he was governor of the state which would hold the second primary of the season, a state which had correctly chosen the eventual GOP nominee for decades, South Carolina was still only one contest. Could he survive Iowa and New Hampshire, or would Romney’s money advantage wipe him off the map? Worse, what if he lost South Carolina to the likes of Huckabee, Barbour, or Bush? A defeat in his home state would certainly end his presidential hopes, and likely any future plans for higher office in the future. What about John Kasich? Was he going to jump into the race?
Kasich? Long-time campaign confidant Tom Davis couldn’t believe his ears. The former VP was still radioactive thanks to his association with Fred Thompson. Mark Sanford shouldn’t be afraid of a guy like that. The Ohioan didn’t have the balls his guy did. Not even close.
The skepticism shocked his inner circle and friends. What was wrong with their guy? Why was he making so many excuses? He was adored by grassroots conservatives and had already begun receiving expressions of support from Dave Nalle and the Republican Liberty Caucus. Not the highest profile group, but still. Even “Draft Sanford” Facebook groups began popping up, although quickly dismissed by the governor as the work of well-meaning supporters. There was clearly water in the well, and aides just couldn’t understand why Sanford wasn’t being more proactive. Calls were made by Karl Rove, George W. Bush and Fred Thompson’s political hatchet man, along with Bush and Thompson themselves, asking Sanford to at least consider making a run for it. Leaving the nomination to be a fight between Romney and Huckabee would bitterly divide the party and could even allow the Democrats to keep the White House. Sit down with your family, asked Bush. Go through the positives and negatives. Be honest with them and yourself; would the country be better off with you as President of the United States, or one of the other potential candidates? Deep down Sanford knew the answer to that question. Huckabee was little more than a Fox News talking head. Romney was a silver-spooned elitist. Santorum was despised by almost everyone. McIntosh was a good man, but lacked the charisma. Crist wasn’t even a fucking conservative for crying out loud. But the spotlight and attention concerned the South Carolinian.
Everyone had skeletons in their closet, including Sanford. Boy did he. If he could keep them away from the nosey eyes of the press, he might be able to accomplish some real good for the country. Yeah. It was for the good of the country. The press couldn’t find everything about a man. He knew plenty of colleagues who had managed to keep their secrets and personal lives away from the news. Sanford could do the same. For the sake of the country, he had to run. But first, he needed a vacation. Time to think everything out carefully. Spend some time with his family. Maybe bolster his foreign policy credentials a little bit, and remind people that as the governor of a state he wasn’t a push over.
So off to Argentina the Sanford family went.
When Governor Sanford returned, his psyche appeared to have returned to a state of uncertainty regarding the bid. Again, raising concerns over his family’s wellbeing. Terry Sullivan, his would-be campaign manager, gave him an ultimatum; either you decide you’re in the race, or the rest of the team and I am leaving for other campaigns. And he wasn’t kidding. He had been approached by Mike Huckabee’s staffers, and had even received a pleasant email from Mitt Romney outlining the possibility of serving as the statewide director of his South Carolina campaign. If Sanford was going to be this indecisive in mounting a presidential bid, what would happen if he became president? Fundraisers had begun to line up; endorsements were on their way; a location and an announcement address had already been mapped out.
Sanford relented. He was in. “I guess if I’m going to do this, I might as well do it right,” the governor told his inner circle.
Making the official announcement from the steps of the state’s capital building, Sanford outlined his vision of putting America first; first in job growth, first in education, first in military power, first in everything. America had spent too much time following, and not enough leading. It was exactly the type of red meat that primary and caucus goers would eat up, and polling immediately had Sanford either in first place or tied with the other frontrunners. He was going to win this race, just so long as nothing blew up in his face.