Voices of Beltway conventional wisdom like
Chris Cillizza are acknowledging that Michele Bachmann is a top-tier candidate for the 2012 Republican presidential nomination. But Bachmann's official welcome into the top tier (where she's actually been for a while now) is accompanied by a frantic search for her undoing. The Republican establishment is afraid of her and Beltway CW hacks like Cillizza feel they'd look biased or unprofessional if they called out the craziness of a top-tier Republican presidential candidate, but they really do think she's crazy. (Unlike equally crazy but more
presidential-looking penis-having candidates like Rick Perry, who's receiving quite the honeymoon from the pundits.)
That said, Cillizza points to a Politico story that's being widely cited today that does highlight a way Michele Bachmann could be her own undoing—and the speed with which it's making the rounds shows just how excited the press would be to help her. Ben Smith and Jonathan Martin write that unlike Perry, who has been making the handshaking, question-answering retail politics rounds in Iowa,
Bachmann campaigned like a celebrity. And the event highlighted the brittle, presidential-style cocoon that has become her campaign’s signature: a routine of late entries, unexplained absences, quick exits, sharp-elbowed handlers with matching lapel pins, and pre-selected questioners.
Dave Weigel picks up on this theme:
The classic Iowa campaign, especially if we're talking about an underdog candidate like Bachmann still is, is extremely personal. The candidate shows up, gives a speech, and leaves after every voter leaves.
Bachmann's "Meet Me in Ames" tour was more like the blitz you see before an election. Over one week in Iowa, before the straw poll, I saw her speak five times. A stage was set up outside, where cameras could get good, sun-bleached shots. Voters were urged to stand close to the stage or behind it -- also for good shots. As "Promised Land" played, Bachmann's bus came into view; during the second playing she exited it. She spoke for roughly 20 minutes. When her speech ended, she stayed on the stage to shake hands, sign autographs, and get buttonholed in very short "thank-you-for-what-you're-doing" conversations. Only once did I see her break the format, with a town hall meeting on Monday that featured five audience questions. (This was the event where she blew off a question about Newsweek's crazy eyes cover.) As she shook hands there, I noticed a young man ask a question beginning with "There's one thing I wanted to ask you." She smiled at him and turned to talk someone else.
I'd argue that Weigel is being a little unfair here—just about any minimally professional political campaign is going to try to set up good photos and urge the audience to gather in photogenic ways. Though if they do it in too obtrusive a way, it can be really annoying.
But not taking questions in front of audiences and blowing people off when they try to ask you something one on one ... that sort of thing could be a problem for Bachmann. For one thing, it's not just about how Bachmann is treating Iowa voters, it's also about the press. Make them feel slighted or dodged, especially if you're a candidate they already don't much like, and you'll be made to pay. But voters in these early primary states do pay attention to these things, as well. Call it a sense of entitlement or a conscientious desire to find out firsthand where the candidates stand, Iowa and New Hampshire voters are accustomed to having their questions answered, and they judge accordingly.
That's not to say a candidate can't change course. In New Hampshire in early 2008, after having made the switch away from question-and-answer events to speak-and-leave events earlier than her competitors, Hillary Clinton pivoted back to question-and-answer events in the final days before the primary. Obviously the change of course didn't hurt her. But there was never any question about Hillary Clinton's ability to answer questions completely, without making headlines beyond "Clinton: [slogan of the week]" or "Clinton speaks to crowd of [number]." Whether Michele Bachmann can do the same is an open question, and if she can't, it could hurt her in Iowa and New Hampshire.