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How Beto-mania is sweeping America

When Oprah Winfrey interviewed Beto O’ Rourke last month she all but begged him to run for president. Last week he answered her prayers, and within a day had raised more than $6 million in online, individual contributions from all 50 US states — the largest first day record of any candidate so far

He began campaigning immediately in Iowa — which will be the first state to vote in the Democrats’ 2020 primary season — accompanied by swells of media coverage and crowds holding up their phones to record his political act.

For now at least, 46-year-old O’Rourke is the hottest ticket in US politics. His presidential candidacy promptly drew the best endorsement a Democrat can hope for, the mockery of Donald Trump, who said: “I think he’s got a lot of hand movement. I’ve never seen so much hand movement. I said, ‘Is he crazy or is that just the way he acts?’”

This week, artist Stan Herd made a crop-circle-style tribute to him. He previously made one for Barack Obama.To clear up any confusion, his name is pronounced with a short “e” sound, like “bet” with an “o” at the end, not “Beat-o”. The man himself has recorded a video instructing anyone who isn’t sure, which has more than 50,000 YouTube views.

After the disappointment of Hillary Clinton’s loss in 2016 and the misery of the Trump presidency, Democrats are desperate for a candidate who can bring back the magic Barack Obama brought to the campaign trail in 2008. None of the 14 others so far declared is providing many thrills. The impending candidacy of former vice-president Joe Biden is unlikely to change that. Only O’Rourke for now seems capable of matching Trump’s ability to fill and energise a stadium full of supporters.

On paper he has weaknesses. A former three-term US congressman, he narrowly lost to Republican Ted Cruz in the Senate race in Texas last November despite raising $80 million, the most ever for a congressional campaign.

Following his defeat he went on a road trip, driving north from the Lone Star State. In January he wrote on Medium, reeking of middle-aged ennui: “Have been stuck lately. In and out of a funk. My last day of work was January 2. It’s been more than 20 years since I was last not working. Maybe if I get moving, on the road, meet people, learn about what’s going on, where they live, have some adventure, go where I don’t know and I’m not known, it’ll clear my head, reset, I’ll think new thoughts, break out of the loops I’ve been stuck in.”

The team: right, O’Rourke, wife Amy and daughter Molly (Getty Images for SXSW)
The team: right, O’Rourke, wife Amy and daughter Molly (Getty Images for SXSW)

But it is precisely this style of Generation X self-involvement and reflection that millions of people found so refreshing. His Senate campaign was a non-stop, improvisational performance. O’Rourke streamed himself air-drumming in his car and skateboarding in a parking lot. His campaign events felt like rock concerts and attracted millions of online views. He was endorsed by Beyoncé and Willie Nelson.

An admirer of Democratic New York congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, he shares her natural ease on social media. He litters speeches with pop culture references — he compared taking on Trump to “every epic movie that you’ve ever seen, from Star Wars to The Lord of the Rings. This is the moment where we’re going to win or lose everything.” He is a mood politician who exudes positivity and accessibility. He’ll attack an opponent’s policies but never go after them personally — and that will make him a tough target for Trump, whose favourite political tool is the personal attack. During this first week of his primary campaign O’Rourke has been driving his own minivan, without a campaign manager to organise him — just a small, sleep-starved crew of volunteers.

"Man, I’m just born to be in it. I want to do everything I humanly can for this country at this moment."

Beto O'Rourke

His critics, though, say that for all the perspiration and passion, he is nothing more than those Bobby Kennedy looks: an empty button-down shirt; all hashtag and no substance; vain enough to Instagram his own dental appointment. For all their claims to diversity, Democrats seem smitten by a middle-aged, independently wealthy white man in crisis. New York Times columnist Maureen Dowd wrote mockingly of the drooling comparisons between O’Rourke and Obama: “We have The One again, a New one — another lanky, bookish, handsome man with an attractive young family, a thin resumé, an exotic name, a hip affect, a rock-star aura, an enticing smile, a liberal press corps ready to fluff his pillows and a frothing Fox News.”

On the issues, O’Rourke is vapid, a centrist perhaps, at a time when his party is turning to the Left. He talks gauzily about stopping climate change and immigrants but dodges specifics on complex issues like expanding healthcare. Meanwhile, candidates like Massachusetts senator Elizabeth Warren are offering reams of hard policies, from wealth taxes to universal childcare and a promise to break up big tech companies. They aren’t raising the kind of cash, though, that O’Rourke is.

He grew up in El Paso, Texas, a city on the border with Mexico, where his father was a local politician, and attended Columbia University in New York, where his two passions were rowing and punk rock — he played guitar in several bands, Foss (Icelandic for waterfall) and the Sheeps, who wore underwear and sheep masks onstage.

Stan Herd’s “Beto earthwork” (Stan Herd )
Stan Herd’s “Beto earthwork” (Stan Herd )

He was a nanny for a wealthy family in New York, worked as an art mover, and lived in Williamsburg long before it became hip. O’Rourke returned to El Paso at the age of 25 and within a month was arrested for drink-driving. After 9/11 he launched an alternative newspaper that lasted 15 issues.

He has been criticised locally as the pawn of his father-in-law William Sanders, a wealthy property developer with ties to many local Republicans. Amy, his wife, is nine years his junior. They have three young children, Ulysses — named after the hero of The Odyssey, his favourite book — Molly and Henry.

As a congressman O’Rourke made no secret of his distaste for Washington and achieved little. It was his Senate campaign that gave him national recognition. He claims to have drawn on his punk-rock past, delivering his message in a blistering, pared-down style, different from that of his scripted rivals. While they were speaking from behind podiums he was clambering on to bars across Texas to make his points.He explained his reason for running to Vanity Fair: “I want to be in it. Man, I’m just born to be in it, and I want to do everything I humanly can for this country at this moment.”

While O’Rourke may fancy himself as the heir to Obama, and went to see him in Washington before announcing his candidacy, he has some way to go to match the former president’s eloquence. In his effort to straddle every con-stituency, O’Rourke’s waffling risks losing the soul of his own Left-veering party. But for now, he is taking them on the ride they have been waiting for, careening from event to event, giving Democrats what they have lacked up to now, and what they will need to unseat the President: a sense of excitement.

The competition

Here are the other leading Democrats who have declared their candidacies.

Elizabeth Warren

The Massachusetts senator, 69, was a special adviser to President Obama.

Bernie Sanders

The veteran 77-year-old socialist and Vermont senator ran against Hillary Clinton in the 2016 primaries.

Cory Booker

New Jersey senator and Mayor of Newark, 49, until 2013.

Kirsten Gillibrand

Senator for New York, 52. Declared her candidacy with video titled “Brave Wins”.

Kamala Harris

The senator for California, 54, is the daughter of Jamaican and Indian immigrants.

Amy Klobuchar

The Minnesota moderate, 58, is looking to win back fellow working-class Midwesterners.