Eight years ago, on a stage not unlike the one that Obama and McCain stood on at Ole Miss, we had a different pair of candidates.
The Republican was a Compassionate Conservative. He would reach across the aisle, like he did in the past, to get Democrats and Republicans working together. He often disagreed with the will of his party. A real Maverick, one might say. (He was even a pilot! Just like Top Gun!)
He was going to change the tone of Washington; unite people, not divide them. A uniter, not a divider, he was. Or so he claimed.
The Republican was elected to thunderous applause, as Queen Amidala might have said.
The story of Star Wars from my youth--episodes four through six, for those playing at home: A New Hope (Star Wars), The Empire Strikes Back, and Return of the Jedi--was the tale of a young, inexperienced but promising young student of the Force, and it was a tale of victory for the light side. The later series, that some of you no doubt watched when you were kids (perhaps you watched them 'in order!') was also a tale of a young, inexperienced but promising young student of the Force, and it was a tale of victory for the dark. Anakin and Luke faced the same choice, both at the hands of the Emperor: to join the seemingly more powerful and righteous dark side, which feeds on fear and anger, or to turn away from the dark side and choose hope, calm, and peace. Each of them had the opportunity to kill the one who stood now by the Emperor's side, a task, though challenging, was no doubt possible for the young Jedi. Anakin choose fear and anger. Luke chose hope. And in that moment, the fate of a generation was decided.
We have faced this choice before. On one side, a candidate who strives to bring us together for common purpose--in Al Gore's case, perhaps best exemplified by climate change (some of it after his candidacy), and in Obama's case, like Dean, perhaps best exemplified by participatory democracy that embraces new ways for the people to communicate in both virtual and physical worlds. On the other, the candidate who promises to reach across the aisle in contrast to recent events and the spirit of his campaign (What was that about McCain's illegitimate baby? Oh, just a rumor, but it cost him nevertheless; what was that about Obama calling the female VP candidate a pig? Oh, he was using the phrase 'lipstick on a pig,' a saying McCain himself has used, and about an economic plan regardless.) The candidate who unites, does not divide. He is for lower taxes--and, if you look at the numbers, in a way that obviously favors the very rich--and is willing to repeatedly suggest his opponent will raise them, despite evidence from the opponent's campaign. He wants you to be afraid. Afraid of change. Afraid of others. Afraid of foreigners. Afraid of trust. And, above all, skeptical of hope.
We have faced this choice before. Fortunately, for us, we do not need a generation for a new Jedi to arise. And, like many tales, it is turned on its head when compared to reality. In the movies, there is one promising young student who must make this choice. But in reality, it is every single one of us: such is the way of democracy. We are the heroes of our own story, and we are called upon by--call it fate, call it karma, but I think everything happens for a reason--Lady Fortune to make this choice, between hope and fear. Think of that, when you are in the voting booth, about to press that touchscreen or check that box or punch that hole or fill in that oval or pull that lever. At that moment, you, like Anakin and Luke, are a hero, and must make the hero's choice: Hope. Or fear.
Let us not make Anakin's choice this time. Let us make Luke's.