Even in a swing state, views are hardened
ABINGTON, PA. –
Curtis Levin may live in a swing state, but there's nothing wavering about his intention to vote for John Kerry this November. Picking up some hoagies at Barton's Deli, he pours forth a ready list of political grievances: George W. Bush is "a puppet who doesn't have any original ideas," and who will appoint antiabortion justices to the Supreme Court. The war in Iraq is "a joke." And while "they say war is good for the economy," Mr. Levin scoffs, "I don't have any extra money."
He and his wife work long hours - he at a medical marketing-research company, she as a medical illustrator - and they're paying more for healthcare, a particular concern now that his wife may need an expensive back operation.
Less than 15 miles away, Brian Annillo sees this election in equally stark terms - only from the opposite view. Senator Kerry is "a flip flopper," for whom he has "zero respect." The war in Iraq is being undermined by the media and has in fact gone relatively well: "I don't believe any country in the world has ever been taken over with less than 1,000 casualties." The local economy is strong - housing prices are skyrocketing, he notes. Indeed, his only real grievance has to do with traffic: Tired of commuting into Philly, he's opening a new business selling children's furniture.
Both Messrs. Levin and Annillo live in one of the most contested congressional districts in the country, tucked within one of the nation's top battleground states. Stretching from the working class neighborhoods of Northeast Philadelphia to the ritzier suburbs outside the city, and the farm-dotted exurbs beyond, pollsters have already labeled the 13th district a bellwether - the area most likely to determine which way the state, and possibly the nation, tips.
Over the past 10 years, the seat has switched from Republican to Democratic, back to Republican, and then back to Democratic again. Pennsylvania pollster Terry Madonna recently claimed: "If the term swing voter didn't exist, it would have to be invented to describe many of the voters in the 13th congressional district."
But while voters here have a long history of moderate views and ticket splitting, almost no one is undecided when it comes to this fall's election.
"Purple" states like Pennsylvania are often held up as the exception to the red-blue divide - and they are, in the sense that they're not reliably tilted toward a single party. Republicans and Democrats within these states have plenty of exposure to one another, and theoretically are more likely to cross party lines at the ballot box.
But that doesn't mean the nation's purple states aren't exhibiting the effects of polarization. In fact, in some ways, the red-blue divide shows up with even greater intensity.
The nation's purest swing district?
Here in Pennsylvania 13, the relatively even mix of partisan views and looming sense of high stakes - all condensed within a small radius - combine to lend a prickly tension. Throughout the district, voters on both sides of the divide express strong political beliefs, and even stronger frustration with members of the opposing party, many of whom they count as neighbors.
One of the few things Levin and Annillo agree on is that the bitterness between the parties hasn't always been like this. But lately it seems to be growing. Annillo, for one, blames the media. "The media is extremely biased," he says. News consumers on both sides are getting "opinion and not the facts," inflaming debate.
Levin traces the schism to "an economic division." His hometown of Abington, he says, is increasingly split between wealthy residents who are getting richer by the day, and middle and lower-middle class people who are struggling to get by. "You're either one or the other," he notes. He also blames the rise of cultural issues like abortion, which he sees as inherently uncompromising: "You're either pro-choice or you're not." Having picked a side, "people are stuck," he says. "There's really no bending."
Both presidential candidates are focusing intently on Pennsylvania, a state rich with 21 electoral votes, which Al Gore won in 2000 by just 5 percent. President Bush has visited 30 times since taking office, often stopping in towns in and around the 13th district. Kerry is campaigning hard here, too, last week kicking off a "front porch tour" outside Philadelphia. He also staged his first photo-op with running mate John Edwards at the Pittsburgh farm of his wife, Teresa Heinz Kerry - an estate that belonged to Mrs. Kerry's late husband, Pennsylvania Sen. John Heinz (R), who remains highly popular here.
Solidly Republican from the 1860s through the 1920s, Pennsylvania was the only major state to vote for Herbert Hoover over Franklin Roosevelt in 1932. But Roosevelt's New Deal and the rise of the union movement soon brought the state's many steelworkers and coal miners decisively into the Democratic column - splitting the state down the middle politically and transforming it into a campaign battleground for the next seven decades.
For years, economic divisions dominated the political landscape, with the wealthier eastern part of the state traditionally in the GOP camp, and the more industrial western part allied with the Democrats. But lately, the rise of cultural issues has created new political crosscurrents. Culturally conservative voters in the west are finding growing appeal in the Republican Party, while socially liberal voters in the east are moving toward the Democrats.
The result is a state that backed Mr. Gore in 2000 and elected a Democratic governor, Ed Rendell, in 2002 - but where Republicans outnumber Democrats 12 to 7 in the US House, and both US senators are Republicans as well.
The 13th district, which cuts an oblong swath from Northeast Philadelphia out through Montgomery County, is in some ways a microcosm of the state itself. It includes a variety of races and classes - and a striking clash of partisan views. Its urban sections are less Democratic than one might expect, and its suburban parts less Republican.
Among the tidy brick 1950s row houses in Northeast Philadelphia, grassy plots are decorated with colorful lawn ornaments and American flags. This is a part of the city once settled by immigrants - German, Italian, and Irish - and it's still populated by blue-collar workers, firefighters, and cops. Culturally, the neighborhood leans Republican.
But the presence of many union members also gives the area a Democratic counterbalance: Signs on lampposts read: "Teamsters for Kerry." And lately an influx of minorities is furthering that Democratic trend.
Sitting on her front stoop, watching the traffic go by, Rose Richard typifies the changes to this neighborhood. A Haitian immigrant, she's studying at Drexel University, while working at a local hospital. She's also a Democrat who plans to vote for Kerry - largely because of her concerns about health insurance and the availability of student financial aid. Kerry's no Bill Clinton - "he was awesome," she smiles - but she's seen the Massachusetts senator's commercials, and he has her vote.
Yet as more Democrats like Ms. Richard move in, longtime Republicans here don't seem to be altering their views. Many are growing more stalwart.
Gene Costanzo has been cutting locals' hair in his shop along Cottman Avenue for 24 years now. A native Italian who moved here in 1950, he was initially a Democrat, but switched around the time of Ronald Reagan's presidency and has been "strongly" Republican ever since. "I guess I was not satisfied with the Democrats," he explains, adding simply: "I work all my life, and they're spending my money."
Directly next door, Mr. Costanzo's son Michael runs a sporting-goods store, where he outfits local Little League teams. He's more staunchly conservative than his father. There's "nothing" he doesn't like about Bush, whom he regards as "a good, religious man." Although Kerry is Roman Catholic like himself, Costanzo thinks the candidate is "not much of a Christian," since he supports abortion rights, something Costanzo opposes. A strong proponent of the Iraq war - "if we don't fight it overseas, we're going to be speaking Arabic in this country" - he says that if Kerry wins, he'll be "pretty upset."
Costanzo knows his views cause friction among some of his neighbors: "I'm pretty conservative for this area," he admits. "Democrats have a hard time talking to me." He recalls a recent "screaming" match he had with an ex-girlfriend about Iraq. But he's equally frustrated by what he sees as many union members' unthinking loyalty to the Democratic Party. They're "basically puppets" of the union leaders, blindly buying into arguments that they could lose their jobs, he says. "They're just scared."
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