Tim Walz

Ryan Coogan, The Independent

After walking out to the strains of John Mellencamp’s song “Small Town”, with its lyrics about being born, living and dying in a small town, Minnesota governor Tim Walz took no time reminding the Democratic National Convention that he was from — can you guess? — a small town.

He went to a small school, with 24 other (presumably small) pupils, and it taught him how small communities take care of each other. “That family down the road, they may not think like you do, they may not pray like you do, they may not love like you do — but they’re your neighbours, and you look out for them, and they look out for you.”

Is Walz’s entire candidacy a shameless attempt by the Democrats to come across as folksy and down to earth after gaining a reputation for being the party of the college educated, big city, liberal elites? Yes. Did that stop me from tearing up a little bit when his son Gus applauded and shouted “That’s my dad!”, like the proud son at the end of a Disney movie? No. I’m not made of stone.

Even if Walz’s “sports, family and warm apple pie” speech seemed ripped directly from the American Patriotism for Dummies playbook, that’s sort of exactly what the DNC needs right now. After the disaster of the Hillary Clinton campaign, with its pitch of “been there, done that”, or the brutal necessity of the Biden campaign, with its pitch of “it’s me or more of the horrors”, the party needs to not only scaremonger about Donald Trump this time around, but offer a real vision for America that counteracts Trump’s.

Walz offers that in spades. He’s basically the anti-Trump. Walz is a small-town boy, while Trump grew up in opulence in New York City. Walz served in the National Guard (no matter what his opponents try to imply), while Trump dodged the draft. Walz has a loving, authentic family, Donald Trump... well, his niece wrote a book calling him a “monster”, and at one point people thought Melania was a clone, so you tell me.

For the first time in a long time, the Democrats are starting to seem like the party of “real America”, and are successfully painting Trump as an out-of-touch “weirdo”. Walz talked about running in a deep red district with “with little kids, zero political experience, and no money running”, as a football coach and public school teacher — and, he reminds us, you should “never underestimate a public school teacher”. Based on the campaign so far, I’d say he’s right about that last part.

Importantly, Walz offers a vision of America that still makes room for the party’s progressivism. When Barack Obama chose Joe Biden to be his running mate in 2008, the strategy was to choose a relatively conservative old white guy to avoid scaring away people who might be put off by the sight of a cool, young, Black candidate with his talk of hope and Medicare. Walz ticks the “old” and “white” boxes in spades, but if anything his presence helps bolster the progressive credentials of the party, while still being wrapped in a big, Norman Rockwell-shaped bow.

“While other states were banishing books from their schools, we were banishing hunger from ours,” he said, drawing a firm line between the Democrats and the “weird” Republicans, who are more interested in butting in to other people’s business than they are in improving the lives of Americans.

“We also protected reproductive freedom, because in Minnesota, we respect our neighbours and the personal choices they make,” he continued. And that sort of sums it up. This campaign, at its core, is going to be about appealing to those small towns, and reminding them that, once upon a time, being a traditional conservative in America wasn’t about conspiracy theories, disrespecting your opponents and bragging about how much money you make. It was about respect, and common decency.