Not just a leader, but a family man, a man of faith: this was Mitt Romney’s chance to introduce himself, not just to Republican activists, but to the nation. So how well did he do?
This was not just a keynote speech: not simply about rolling out policies and certainly not about showcasing the fine art of rhetorical flourish. Mitt Romney’s keynote address to the Republican National Convention was his big chance to show America who he is: to counter the image of a remote, moneyed elitist who has no idea how ordinary people live.
The answer? About as good as Romney was ever going to get: the man is no oratorical genius, and was inevitably upstaged by the spectacle of Clint Eastwood talking to an empty chair. But there was a real effort to depict himself as a compassionate family man, whose Mormon faith was central to his politics, and his moral core.
The decision to make more of Romney’s religious beliefs could be a giant risk for his strategists: a poll by Gallup this summer found similar levels of prejurice against the church as in the 1960s. Some 40 per cent of Americans didn’t know Romney was a member, while almost one in five wouldn’t vote for a Mormon as president. Among evangelical Christians, who make up a key plank of Republican support, there’s even more suspicion.
But amid all those nagging doubts over Romney’s personality, and his sheer unlikeability, his team were in the market for risks. After all, Americans respect religious commitment: as President Obama told Time Magazine this week, “As somebody who takes my Christian faith seriously, I appreciate that (Romney) seems to walk the walk and not just be talking the talk when it comes to his participation in his church.”
The story of Romney’s religion, and the touching tales from fellow Mormons and families he tended during his time as a bishop, were aimed at dispelling that plutocrat image that, so far, he has been unable to shake off. What has been kept fiercely private for decades is now being celebrated, in prime time.
There have been a few, rare glimpses into Romney the Mormon before: the odd journalist allowed to accompany him to church, a few bare details about his time as a missionary in France and his parish work in Boston. After all, the Romney family were pretty central to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.
His great-great grandfather, Parley Parker Pratt, was known as the “Apostle Paul of Mormonism”. Another relative was a key church leader for almost half a century. Mitt met his wife Ann when he switched from Stanford to the church-dominated Brigham Young University, and carrried on much of his religious work even after he gave up his bishopric to run Bain Capital.
As the Buzzfeed reporter and fellow Mormon, Mckay Coppin, wrote: “I’ve always wondered why the candidate insists on keeping one of the most meaningful – and humanizing – aspects of his life hidden from public view; what it was about the fundamentally un-exotic Mormon experience that he was so afraid to share.”
It’s true that the Latter Day Saints remains a largely unknown quantity. Founded by Joseph Smith in upstate New York in the 19th century, it now has almost fourteen and a half million members and claims to be the fastest growing religion in the world, backed by 55,000 full time missionaries.
Although church members still believe in the Bible, they also believe God spoke to Joseph Smith, who was directed by an angel to some golden plates which became the Book of Mormon. Believers think when Jesus returns to Earth, he won’t just go to Jerusalem – but Missouri as well.
Then there are the rituals: not polygamy, which was outlawed more than a century ago, but special undergarments, a ban on alcohol, caffeine and smoking, special temples and baptism pools, a commitment to marriage and traditional family life. Women, who it is safe to say, take a distinctly background role, are more likely to describe themselves as housewives.
Something that should please the Republican diehards, though, is the church’s conservative social views on issues like same-sex marriage and abortion, although Romney has denied accusations in the past that, as bishop, he pressured women not to have terminations and threatened to excommunicate those considered troublemakers.
In the summer of 2012, though, the emphasis has been on the human factor: after Ann Romney’s moving description of how her husband coped with her diagnoses of breast cancer and MS came testimony from families with terminally ill children who told how Romney had provided emptional and practical support.
Last time Romney ran for his party’s nomination, when he lost out to John McCain in 2008, he did make one speech about his religious values. “I believe in my Mormon faith and endeavour to live by it. My faith is the faith of my fathers. I will be true to them and to my beliefs,” he said, while insisting he would never put church doctrine above his duties to political office.
“Some people believe such a confession of faith will sink my candidacy”, he said. “If they are right, so be it.” Four years on, it is the image of a hard-nosed businessman, a technocrat skilled at turning failing companies around, which is dragging him down: which leaves his faith – no longer an unmentionable, but a potential asset.
Whether the Mormon factor appeals to voters, repels them, or leaves them indifferent, could seal Mitt Romney’s political fate.
Felicity Spector writes about US politics for Channel 4 News