There were navy blue “Hillary for President” and “Lettercarriers for Hillary” signs. Red, white and blue “Hillary: AFT” signs. Green and white “AFSCME for Hillary” signs. Black on yellow “Hillary: SMART Choice” signs. Yellow on black “IUPAT for Hillary” signs. Red and white “Women for Hillary” signs. Small white “Real Men Vote Hillary Signs.” A giant, Pop Art poster of Clinton in profile, with beams of light emanating from her head. Last night, there was even a handmade sign somewhere in the University of Pennsylvania’s Palestra basketball arena, where the New York senator held her final rally before the opening of the Pennsylvania polls, that said “Hillary”–in (appropriately enough) a rainbow of colors. The only thing missing: a “Signmakers for Hillary” sign. I imagine they’re in her corner now, too.
If it weren’t for the fact that the word “Hillary” was written on everything in sight, a casual observer might have mistaken last night’s expertly orchestrated spectacle for a Barack Obama rally. On stage, Bill Clinton marveled at Hillary’s ability to bring people together. “Look around you,” he drawled. “Here we are, united across all conceivable lines, without regard to race or ethnicity. You don’t even know all the faiths represented in this room. Gay and straight, old and young and everything in between. She’s the most unconventional candidate in this race. All her life she’s been a changemaker.” The crowd of 8,000 responded, as they did to everything either he, Chelsea or Hillary said, with a thunderous roar and a trembling mosaic of posters. It was about 10:30 p.m. at that point, and Hillary had yet to speak—an atypically late start time for a candidate whose supporters tend to cluster on the Evening News end of the spectrum. But the audience looked more like Obamaniacs than Clintonistas—that is, urban undergraduate. As if to note the irony, they erupted into an almost familiar chant when Hillary finally took the stage: “Yes, She Can.” The audacity of hope, indeed.
Of course, any confusion dissolved the second Clinton started speaking—and that was precisely her point. After perfunctorily noting the historic nature of November’s vote–“this is a turning-point election in the history of our country,” she said—Clinton quickly pivoted to a laundry list of policy specifics: fuel-efficiency standards of 40 miles per gallon by 2020, 50 mpg by 2030 and 100 mpg thereafter; five million new “green-collar jobs”; a choice of 250 health care plans for the uninsured; pre-kindergarten for all; low-interest student loans from the government; 60 days to start withdrawing from Iraq; a 21st century G.I. Bill of Rights. Sure, Clinton’s final pre-primary address was almost self-consciously low-flown. But for the thousands of supporters squeezed into the Palestra, that only reinforced their main reason for backing her over Obama—he makes “speeches,” she delivers “solutions.” They cheered each name or number as if it were worthy of Cicero.
And that’s the amazing thing about Clinton’s candidacy. She may be unable to catch Obama in the pledged-delegate count, and unlikely to match him in the popular vote. She may be running out of ready cash. She may not be able to win the Democratic nomination without tearing the party in two. But despite all that—and despite a steady stream Beltway sniping about her “pesky” persistence—49.7 percent of Democrats who’ve voted so far (and a likely majority in Pennsylvania) find her more presidential, more capable or simply more inspiring than Obama. It’s hard to get a sense of that from reading the papers. But last night at the Palestra, it was abundantly clear. In the end, it’s not just Clinton who won’t go. Here in Pennsylvania–as in New Hampshire, and Ohio, and Texas–it’s her voters who won’t let her.
