A blast of common sense and good judgment from the Financial Times:
Mr Obama has fought a brilliant campaign, out-organising his opponent, raising more money, and convincing undecided Democrats as well as the country at large that he was more likeable, more straightforward and more worthy of trust.
On form, he is a spell-binding orator and holds arena-sized audiences in thrall. He is given to airy exhortations, it is true, but genuinely seeks consensus and has cross-party appeal.
Note the "genuinely". This is obvious to anyone not blinkered. He is not perfect; and not a savior. But he is the best thing to happen to the Democrats in a very long time, and sometimes it takes an outsider like the FT to see it. Among the most perceptive of his critics, I’d put Dowd and Noonan. Maureen:
Obama has to prove to Americans that, despite his exotic background and multicultural looks, he shares or at least respects their values and understands why they would be upset about his associations with the Rev. Wright and an ex-Weatherman.
Sen. Obama seems honestly surprised by the furor his the-poor-cling-to-God-and-guns remarks elicited, and if one considers his background—intense marginalization followed by the establishment’s embrace—this is understandable. He was only caught speaking the secret language of America’s elite, and what he said was not meant as a putdown. It was an explanation aimed at ameliorating the elites’ anger toward and impatience with normal people. It’s a way of explaining them, of saying, "You have to remember they’re not comfortable and educated like us, they’re vulnerable and so we must try to understand them and feel sympathy for and solidarity with them." You could say this at any high-class dinner party in America and not cause a ruffle. But America is not a high-class dinner party.
The smartest critiques of Obama get the sincerity of his ambition, while noting his flaws and greenness. The dumbest critiques miss the point entirely. In general: I trust the Irish-Catholic women to get these things right. At least, that’s what my mother taught me.
(Photo: Scott Morgan/Getty.)
The Dish 