Walter Shapiro has an excellent profile of Tim Pawlenty over at The New Republic. The most immediate takeaway—literally, it's in the lede—is Pawlenty's shift in tone when he starts talking about his fellow Minnesota Republican, Rep. Michele Bachmann:
[Midway] through the interview, desperate for a headline-making morsel about his home-state rival, I asked Pawlenty to respond to the assessment that he was the establishment and Bachmann was the outsider in Minnesota politics. To my surprise, Pawlenty sprang to life. He spent the next four minutes vehemently disputing my premise.
"Pawlenty has always been the establishment in Minnesota and Bachmann has always been the renegade," says University of Minnesota political scientist Larry Jacobs. "Pawlenty thought that she was kind of a crackpot. He would roll his eyes when her name came up." Democrat Roger Moe—the former longtime majority leader of the state Senate who lost the 2002 gubernatorial race to Pawlenty—describes his rival as "the kind of guy you can have a beer with" despite their political differences. But Moe cannot resist chuckling: "I can just tell you—I know for sure on the inside of him—that Tim Pawlenty is just seething over Bachmann. I bet they have to lock him in a room some days when he reads about her."
Pawlenty's biggest flaw, in the eyes of media types, is that he has no discernible edge. As one Minnesota Republican told me last month: "He should hire someone to give him a personality." And she was a supporter! When Bachmann becomes part of the conversation, though, Pawlenty shifts immediately from Minnesota Nice to Minnesota Passive-Aggressive.
But the iciness goes much deeper than superficial jealousy. When the two were both in St. Paul, Bachmann attacked Pawlenty with a nearly identical arsenal of barbs that she currently directs at President Obama—right down to the allegations of Soviet-style economics. As we've reported previously, Pawlenty's signature jobs program as governor, which he likes to talk about on the stump, was a system of of tax-free zones designed to keep local businesses from leaving for neighboring states. The program, called JOBZ, was kind of a flop. But Bachmann saw something far more sinister: As she told a conference in 2003, "Tax-free zones are meant to be the catalyst to put the final nail in this system to have a state-planned economy." She railed against the plan as a redistribution of wealth, and framed it in the larger context of a push for what she called a "Soviet-style" economy, in which bureaucrats, businesses, and public schools would work together to create an economy that matched their own globalistic vision.
So yeah, Pawlenty likely thought Bachmann was a crackpot. And there was one more thing. One of Pawlenty's sore spots from his time as governor was his tax hike. As part of a deal he struck to end a government shutdown in 2006, he agreed to an extra 75-cent/pack charge on cigarettes, which he called a "health impact fee." Conservatives read that as a tax (which it was), and hammered him for it, but Pawlenty doggedly stuck with the name and hoped that Republicans would cut him some slack, considering he was governor and he had to cut some sort of deal with the Democratic legislature. He wasn't going to get it from Bachmann, who almost immediately introduced a bill to repeal the tax. Salt, meet wound.
Another way of thinking about this? Tim Pawlenty is Frank Grimes:
One of Rep. Michele Bachmann's more controversial associations is her relationship with Bradlee Dean, a heavy-metal drummer who runs an anti-gay ministry in her district called You Can Run But You Cannot Hide International. As we reported in May, Dean has stated unequivocally that homosexuality is illegal. Not that it should be illegal, but that it is currently a crime, and that gays are legally barred from holding public office. (News of the landmark 2003 Supreme Court decision Lawrence v. Texas travels slowly.) Dean also believes that gay marriage is part of secret Muslim plot to impose Islamic Sharia law on the general populace, and that President Obama has cut the nation loose from its Constitutional moorings. This despite the fact that Dean was until recently a member of a sovereign citizen organization that requires supporters to renounce their American citizenship. Bachmann has raised money for Dean's organization and prayed for the group to turn Minnesota into a "burning incense." "Thank you now for this time," she said, "and pour a double blessing, Lord, a triple blessing onto this ministry."
The fact that Bachmann was scheduled to appear alongside Dean at the "Tea Party Jamboree" in Kansas City, Kansas, in September was, all things considered, kind of a big deal. The event's lineup was problematic as well: Jerome Corsi, author of the birther manifesto Where's the Birth Certificate?, was scheduled to attend, as was his boss at WorldNetDaily, Joseph Farah. With Bachmann, guided by chief strategist Ed Rollins, attempting to rebrand herself as a kinder, gentler conservative candidate, would she stay the course? Now, Andy Birkey reports, she won't have to make that choice; the entire event has been called off:
So Bachmann dodged a bullet. Meanwhile, this isn't going to do anything to quell suggestions that Vander Plaats, whose marriage pledge has been rebuked by GOP front-runner Mitt Romney and fellow contender Tim Pawlenty, has lost his mojo.
Since being unveiled last Thursday, the Iowa Family Leader's "Marriage Vow" has caused a bit of controversy. The pledge, which the influential conservative group says is a prerequisite for an endorsement, included language—since removed—suggesting that black families were more stable during the days slavery than they are today. Rep. Michele Bachmann (R-Minn.) and former Pennsylvania Sen. Rick Santorum were quick to sign on, but the rest of the GOP contenders took a more cautious approach. Former Utah Gov. Jon Huntsman issued a non-response, saying that he doesn't sign any pledges; former Minnesota Gov. Tim Pawlenty said he's still studying it. After remaining mum on the issue, though, former Massachusetts Gov. Mitt Romney has finally made up his mind:
Andrea Saul, a spokeswoman for Romney, told The Associated Press in a written statement Tuesday that Romney "strongly supports traditional marriage," but that the oath "contained references and provisions that were undignified and inappropriate for a presidential campaign."
It's unclear which parts of the pledge Team Romney found so undignified and inappropriate but there a bunch of contenders: the aforementioned slavery bit, the comparison of gay marriage to polygamy, the proposed ban on pornography, and the rejection of Sharia-compliant Islam (which is, essentially, all Islam). Given Romney's previous support for the rights of gay couples, his embrace of abortion rights, and his recent defense of the patriotism and religious freedom of American Muslims, the pledge would have marked an abrupt shift in tone even for Romney. His explicit rejection of the document is yet another sign the front-runner is swearing off social conservative red-meat this time around, after playing to the base (and failing) in 2008.
At least in this case, it was a smart move. By staying mum on the pledge for a few days, Romney allowed Bachmann to seize the initiative and fall flat, he gave the Family Leader time to acknowledge that its pledge was actually a bit extreme in parts, and he made Tim Pawlenty—who is still reading the pledge, apparently, so don't distract him—look awkward and dithering.
Rep. Michele Bachmann (R-Minn.) has been notoriously outspoken when it comes to her position on gays, contending that homosexuality is a "dysfunction," that it is a satanic evil to even use the word "gay" to describe homosexuals, and that gays and lesbians use public schools to recruit children to their sinful ranks. But when I caught up with Bachmann this afternoon on a Washington, DC, street and asked her about media reports by The Nation and ABC News' Nightline reporting that her family's counseling clinics practice controversial "reparative" therapy to turn gay people straight through the power of prayer, the Republican presidential candidate was uncharacteristically silent.
Statements from a former patient of Bachmann & Associates and undercover video made public by an LGBT activist who secretly filmed his therapy sessions both indicate that the clinic (which has received $130,000 in state and federal funding) does engage in reparative therapy—despite an unequivocal denial from Bachmann's husband, Marcus, in 2006. Reparative therapy, based on the premise that homosexuality is a deviant lifestyle caused by psychological troubles and sexual abuse, has been rejected by every major psychological and psychiatric association. Some studies have suggested it could have harmful effects on patients who undergo such treatment.
Bachmann, who touts her ownership of this small business in her stump speech, has not been keen on answering questions about what Bachmann & Associates actually does. The congresswoman declined to comment to TheNation; her presidential campaign, though, did issue a statement to ABC News: "Those matters are protected by patient-client confidentiality. The Bachmanns are in no position ethically, legally, or morally to discuss specific courses of treatment concerning the clinic's patients." Though it would breach a patient's privacy rights for the Bachmanns to discuss treatment provided to a specific person, they are certainly free to talk generally about their methods and services. Pressed by a local ABC affiliate at a Monday campaign stop in Iowa, Bachmann dodged the subject, saying, "We're very proud of our business, and we're proud of all job creators in the United States. That's what people really care about."
Today, I encountered Bachmann near MoJo's bureau in downtown DC. She was having lunch with an aide in a sandwich shop. After they departed the restaurant, I asked if she would respond to these recent reports. She said nothing—not a word—and would not even look in my direction. She kept walking at a brisk pace. I repeated the question a few times, as her aide tried to prevent me from getting too close to the congresswoman. The aide noted repeatedly that Bachmann was not taking questions. At no time did Bachmann break her stride.
You can watch the exchange for yourself below. (Warning: My flip-cam skills need improvement.)
Texas Governor Rick Perry's August prayer festival, to be held in Houston's Reliant Stadium, has put him in the company of some pretty controversial folks. Organizers of the event have said that the purpose of the event is, in part, to convert non-Christians to Christianity. And as we noted last week, one pastor who's signed on as an official endorser of the rally has argued that Oprah Winfrey is a harbinger of the Antichrist.
So what's the latest? Via Right Wing Watch's Brian Tashman we learn that one of the event's latest endorsers has taken dead aim at Lady Liberty herself. Oklahoma City-based pastor John Benefiel, the head of the Heartland Apostlic Prayer Network, delivered a sermon last August arguing that America was being punished by God for filling its landscape with false idols. You know, like the Statue of Liberty:
Libertas is also called the Freedom Goddess, Lady Freedom, the Goddess of Liberty. You know there’s a statue in New York harbor called the Statue of Liberty. You know where we got it from? French Free Masons. Listen folks that is an idol, a demonic idol, right there in New York harbor. People say, 'well no it's patriotic.' What makes it patriotic? Why is it? It's a statue of a false goddess, the Queen of Heaven. We don't get liberty from a false goddess folks, we get our liberty from Jesus Christ.
Students of American history will of course note that, in Ghostbusters II, the Statue of Liberty comes to life to defeat the demonic spirit of Vigo the Carpathian. How the mighty have fallen: