There are some things you expect to hear when politicians ask for your vote. You do not expect them to say they "have no business being in this race." But Norm Hill said it.Hill ambled onstage near the very end of the Jan. 17 U.S. Senate candidate forum held by College Republicans, Evanston Republicans, and the Republicans of New Trier. A patient crowd of senior citizens and slightly-younger-than-senior citizens had already heard from seven men running to replace lackluster Sen. Peter Fitzgerald, a fellow Republican who's retiring after one term. And Hill, a 74-year old precinct captain with thick glasses and hair like a broken sponge, is testing their patience. He started off insulting the audience and he's not done yet.
"We need good young Republicans to get involved. I shouldn't have to be running. Also, as a veteran, I will fight to see we get the best care available. Because your veterans is [sic] the ones that gave you your freedom. Not the news media, not the pastors. Your veterans!"
Eventually, College Republicans president Ben Kohlmann starts standing up to announce the end of the speech period. Hill looks around confusedly. Then he fumbles the questions. He blames rising malpractice insurance costs on doctors ("If you're doing your job right you're not going to get sued") and advocates gun violence ("If that man comes into my home and I have my gun, he will not be walking out"). By the time the crowd is finally starting to laugh at this, Hill is done. But there are more speakers still to come.
In theory, this is a serious event. Polls are close - almost any one of the candidates on stage could be facing Illinois voters in November. Local officials and reporters are in the audience, because the Evanston Republicans are planning a vote to recommend a candidate after they hear all the speeches. But if this is legitimate, how to explain Norm Hill? Why is a gathering of Republicans in Evanston so terminally goofy?
One reason might be that they're outnumbered. According to Evanston GOP Chair Ellen Schrodt, the association only has 150 active members, compared to nearly 1000 organized Democrats. In 1962, Evanston helped to elect a young Donald Rumsfeld to congress. In 2002, Democratic State Rep. Julie Hamos beat Republican James O'Hara by as much as 212-11 in some precincts. The Republicans have gathered about 150 people into the 500-seating Fisk 217. In less than a week, Democrats will be hosting an identical forum in the much larger Ryan Auditorium.
If they have thought about the reasons for decline, Evanston Republicans haven't settled on a reason. "We were doing find until Ellen took over," one of them joked on Saturday. Other long-time residents suggest that the city's demographics - heavily Jewish, a large black population - predestine a Democratic stronghold. Michael Barone, a respected columnist for U.S. News and World Report, simply says that, since the 1960s, Evanston "has moved gracefully from historic Yankee Republican-ness to trendy post-graduate Democratic-ness."
"I don't know what accounts for the change of attitude," says Ald. Steven Bernstein, a Democrat from the city's 4th ward. "It is really remarkable - the city votes something like 85 percent Democratic. I like to think it's because we're so intellectually honest." (He's joking about that last part.)
All of these facts serve to make the Republican forum just a little stranger. For a few hours, the lawn outside Fisk Hall was dotted with signs for Republican senate candidates who, if they're lucky, will get a few dozen votes here. The lonely Evanston Republican had his day in the sun, as candidates fresh from a New Trier forum arrived to beg for his endorsement. Dour State Sen. Steve Rauschenberger and youthful Jonathan Wright are the only candidates who've actually won elected office before. If another one of these candidates can win a town's straw poll, even if it's from a group as small as Evanston's, he'll have won his first batch of votes.
It does not start auspiciously. Candidate John Borling, a retired Air Force major general from Rockford, marches up the stairs to the podium and puts his hands on his hips. And he begins: "Isaiah was called in front of the leadership ..."
It's soon clear that Borling has a high opinion of himself. NU grad Nick Terrell distributes bulky blue folders emblazoned with the general's star-spangled logo (motto: "Duty calls again") and full of long endorsements and biographies. Borling is sure he can win in November because voters "will be looking for heroes, people who can carry the standard of America." The names of Don Rumsfeld and John McCain come up, because Borling has bossed them around. And he brings that attitude to bear when he's answering a question about illegal immigration: "All of this carnival barkering about views doesn't mean a damn."
Borling actually sways a few members of the crowd. Some NU College Republicans say that they had no idea he existed but liked him immediately. He shined especially bright once they saw Andy Martin, a self-important radio host who rages against L. Paul Bremer and the Iraq war until audience members start thinking out loud and whispering, "Is he a Democrat?"
But the rest of the afternoon is spent with candidates who might actually win. According to the latest polls in the Chicago Sun-Times and the Tribune/WGN TV, the frontrunners are Sen. Rauschenberger, 2002 also-ran Jim Oberweis, paper magnate Andy McKenna, and teacher Jack Ryan (no relation to the corrupt ex-governor). All of them are here. It can be hard to tell the difference.
While the Democrats have a few elected officials to choose from, Rauschenberger is able to trumpet his ability to actually get votes. He uses the word "experience" to punctuate every sentence it'll fit it in. But his biggest applause line comes when he gets a question about civil unions and says "I will support a constitutional amendment to ban gay marriage." That lights a fire under the room. The rest of his proposals attract some kind applause and "hmms." Oberweis and McKenna are both successful businessmen with well-oiled fundraising machines. The sleek, smiling McKenna actually trumpets that fact in his campaign literature. All three make solid pitches that appeal to all the instincts of the small Republican crowd.
Chirinjeev Kathuria is the first candidate who tries something different. This is inevitable - he is something different. Kathuria is a 38-year-old Indian Sikh, a space-obsessed venture capitalist who sneaks in references to his college degrees and net worth into many of his answers. And he talks about race.
"I have been to many of these forums, and I think this is the first crowd that's had more than five minority faces."
The crowd winces just a little. Sure enough, this is the Republican dilemma. The last Senate seat they won belonged to Carol Moseley-Braun, and the vote was racially split. The Evanston Republicans and NU conservatives are richer than paler than they'd prefer to be, when facing Illinois voters who still remember George Ryan. So ears perk up, to see if this man with the beard and turban has answers to their problems.
He doesn't. Despite being the only candidate who's appeared on CNN, he's really not ready for prime time. Kathuria calls the Senate Republican leader "Bill First" and has the vaguest of answers to most questions. When he's asked about al Qaeda, he says "we need to use space exploration and satellites to monitor terrorism," which is rather like promising to combat poverty by using the good silverware.
Jack Ryan tries to balance the color-friendly approach with a speech that actually makes sense. He's tall and shaped like a trapezoid, and he carries the mike around as he speaks as if he's trying to sell Evanston a new moneymaking scheme. But he actually sells a smooth version of the old Bush agenda. Years ago he quit an investment job to become a teacher, and he suggests this will win over Democratic voters. Instead of focusing on conservative issues, he claims that "quality education is the civil rights issue of our generation." Wright, arriving late, has the good fortune to follow Norm Hill, but the crowd has already been given permission to leave, and he announces his Rauschenberger-esque views to an emptying room.
After two hours of speeches, few of the politically active NU Republicans have joined a team. Medill junior Richard Goldberg, a former Chronicle editor, has been working for McKenna for months. "I pick winners," he says. Kohlmann had worked for the O'Hara campaign in 2002, but he hasn't signed on to one of these candidates. Most of the students in Fisk were there to be educated, and none were immediately inspired.
As it turns out, the Evanston Republicans were equally unmoved. They hold a quick vote of the thirty-something present members, but none of the candidates has won more than 60 percent of the vote. Word trickles out that there will be no endorsement, and candidates leave. And the lonely Evanston Republicans go back into obscurity for another two years.
"It won't stay that way forever," Ald. Bernstein says. "It's an ebb and flow. In 30 years, the Republicans might be back on top."
