"A candidate who is battle tested in the primary is inevitably stronger in the general election, Iowa Democrats said in numerous interviews with CNN."
I've never been a proponent of this particular political hypothesis. It's counterintuitive because, on whole, it's historically counterfactual; primary brawls often leave nominees bloodied, drained of resources, atop a divided party and in the thick of internal rebukes, which are exquisitely useful to the other nominee. Ask Al Gore and John Kerry if they found their Bradley-Dean battles rejuvenating.
None of this is to say, however, that primaries brawls are ill advised. For want of a Barack Obama, we would have had Hillary in 2009, no healthcare reform, and quite possibly another war. Primary battles are far less about honing candidates' strengths than they are about elevating the ideal nominee and the better presidential material.
Indeed, Hillary's 2007-08 battle principally served to highlight her weaknesses: extemporaneous foolishness, poorly veiled personal attacks that only boomeranged, and a penchant for not minding the store, or anyone in it. Her real recommendation became apparent only after her loss: She helped pull the party back together — a self-interested act, but still a noble one.
At any rate, whatever the pro-and-con arguments for a Democratic primary battle in 2016, it seems that Democrats might, after all, get one.
This is thin gruel to feed on, but Martin O'Malley's "This Week" performance provided at least some basis for a brawl (which, advisable or not, junkies always want). "The presidency of the United States is not some crown to be passed between two families," said the former Maryland governor to a shocked Stephanopoulos. "It is," he added, "an awesome and sacred trust to be earned and exercised on behalf of the American people."
O'Malley's was a well-crafted, sublimely rehearsed pitch. I myself also found it rather bland; then again I like my politics gloveless — even though I sadly know, in my darkest of spectating hearts, that politicians must pretend that even their fiercest opponents are but a disembodied abstraction. O'Malley's talk of inherited crowns and exchangeable dynasties was merely theoretical; you know, just in case such an abomination were to ever present itself.
But golly gee, Stephanopoulos saw through that act, and in a news-making way, he was delighted. For the rather sedate, heretofore utterly harmless and seemingly veep-seeking O'Malley, his philosophical musings were guns blazing. It seems the governor does intend to make a fight of it; and by summer, he might even think of some actual, human examples of mostly hereditary eminence.