As I wrote when Todd Akin’s ignorant comments broke, the anti-gambling zealot was going to call the party’s bluff. And despite the fact that the Republican Party’s reversal is an embarrassing sign of the party’s captivity to its lunatic fringe, yes, he could actually win.
Since 2008, Missouri has swung as hard to the right as has any state in the country. First there are long-term demographic shifts at play – not exactly a new trend, but an accelerating one. Ascendant conservative Republicans have repelled gays, immigrants and young, mobile progressives, just as the continuing growth of Branson (the live country music capital of the world) and the conservative Springfield metro area have attracted conservative evangelicals and retirees.
It was a vicious cycle: the more retrograde the political debate, the more progressives gave up on politics, left Missouri or avoided it in the first place. And the more progressives disappeared, the more conservative the electorate became, and the more reactionary the debate.
The burgeoning strength of grassroots conservatives in Missouri became apparent in 2010 when Republicans rode the wave to legislative majorities of 106-57 and 26-8 in the state House and Senate, respectively.
Not only is Southern Missouri largely evangelical and pro-life, but much of the heavily Catholic St. Louis metro area is strongly pro-life as well. And socio-political life in much of the region – especially the conservative areas of South St. Louis City and County – revolves around the parish church. This gives the anti-abortion movement a rare one-two rural-urban punch and explains how Santorum walloped Romney 55-25 percent in the Missouri presidential primary. It also explains how someone with Akin’s primitive views could possibly remain competitive.
That has left Missouri in a place where the Democrats who succeed statewide are those like Governor Jay Nixon, who spoke out against the Obamacare mandate and steadfastly distance themselves from ideological national politics. Despite her smarts, rural roots and down-home candor, McCaskill – the first woman Senator to support candidate Obama in 2007 – has had a tougher time getting the distance necessary to remain popular among independent voters.
In the past month, evangelical leaders around the country have essentially told the Republican Party: “You need us more than we need you. We’ve put up with the Scott Browns, the John McCains, the Mitt Romneys, and we’ve been loyal soldiers. Now it’s payback time for the decades of phone banking. We need your money.”
With Santorum, the Christian right had the troops, if not the money. But with Akin, they now finally have the leverage: a nominee. Indeed, with control of the Senate riding on it, you really couldn’t script it to give them any more leverage.
Karl Rove may be too proud to spend American Crossroads money. But it will come from somewhere. As Mike Allen wrote in Politico, the “independent” groups on the right are more coordinated than ever, thanks to Sheldon Adelson’s urging. And that money doesn’t really care whether Todd Akin passed freshman sex-ed. For them, it’s an investment.
Usually when a congressman runs statewide, he/she counts on sizeable margins in his/her district. But Akin faces a different situation: instead of being his bailiwick, his district could be his Achilles heel. That’s because it’s full of the middle- to upper middle-class suburban soccer moms who have trended Democratic since 1992 in places like Fairfax County, VA., and Bucks County, PA. Akin could cost other Republican House members running for re-election in suburbs like this a point or two, just by association with him. Whether or not he can contain his losses among those women who know him best will likely determine his fate.
We may not have to wait long to learn the outcome. The race may well be determined by next week’s end. If Akin can withstand McCaskill’s furious TV/radio ad onslaught and stay within 4-5 points, while holding McCaskill under 47-48, then national money returns and it’s probably a 1-2 point race either way. But if he can’t stay close in the next week, then good night, Todd. The cavalry doesn’t do charity cases.
A former Missouri state senator, Jeff Smith is an assistant professor of politics and advocacy at the New School in New York.
