Thursday, Jan. 31, 2008

Mr. Sunshine

By Michael Grunwald

The night before the Florida primary, Rudy Giuliani was still vowing to shock pollsters: "I've been doing the impossible all my life!" He certainly did the impossible, plummeting from front runner to also-ran in a few weeks, finishing a distant third behind Mitt Romney and John McCain. And just as John Edwards, a sunny personality who ran as an angry rabble-rouser, was departing the Democratic field, America's mayor, an angry man who ran as Mr. Sunshine, was endorsing McCain.

If the Giuliani collapse wasn't totally unexpected--a twice-divorced, pro-choice, anti-gun New Yorker was a tough sell in a Republican primary--the cause certainly was. Who would have expected the mayor who declared war on criminals, squeegee men, graffiti artists, jaywalkers and even purveyors of "incivility"--in other words, New Yorkers--to shy away from a fight?

Giuliani held back in five early states before making his stand among Florida's transplanted New Yorkers. What made him think he could choose his battlefield? As one aide mused, "They'll be asking that question in political-science classes for years."

But the real mystery was the candidate himself. Giuliani was always portrayed as a successful mayor despite his nasty streak; in fact, his nastiness helped make him a successful mayor. He didn't need to be loved. He wanted a city that worked, and he pursued that goal with a vindictiveness that sometimes bordered on mania.

But on the trail in Florida, he seemed so serene, so resigned, so Zen. He never appeared desperate for victory or eager to throttle someone. He stayed positive, declaring himself "sick and tired of all this name-calling." Prozac Rudy never acted as if his heart were in the race. Even as he floundered, he kept smiling. "We've been campaigning in Florida so long, I really feel like I'm one of you," he said.

Maybe that's why Giuliani made his stand in the Sunshine State: like so many other New Yorkers, he likes it there. When political-science classes study his campaign, they just might see it as a $40 million Florida vacation.