Commentary: He’s out of race, but Perry still has identity crisis

By Patricia Kilday Hart
Houston Chronicle Columnist

Only three days ago, it was Moses, God’s chosen one. Before that, Rick Perry tried on and shed other alter-egos: Galileo. Tim Tebow. William Barret Travis. The combined Allied Expeditionary Forces.

When the autopsy of the mercifully expired Rick Perry presidential campaign is complete (and the scalpels went to work even as he spoke Thursday morning in South Carolina), no physical defect will be blamed for the protracted debacle.

No, the post-mortem will likely identify the campaign’s fatal flaw as a deep psychological disorder, one that revealed itself in the glare and stress of a national campaign. Since his first slip in the polls (and slip of the tongue on the debate stage), Perry has been in the throes of a very public identity crisis as painful as pre-pubescence. The more he compared himself to exalted heroes, the brighter the spotlight shone on his shortcomings.

The candidate who six months ago talked about job creation careened from theme to theme in recent weeks, as desperate to win approval as an insecure teenager. It backfired: Polls showed that voters wanted a grown-up in the White House instead.

Back on Aug. 13, his pitch-perfect announcement held promise: “Our country’s most urgent need is to revitalize our economy, stop the generational theft that is going on with this record debt. … It is time to get America working again.”

A week later, he led the Republican pack in a Gallup poll, with 29 percent of the voters preferring him to second-place Mitt Romney, who weighed in at 17 percent.

New Gingrich, with 4 percent, barely registered a pulse.

Unfamiliar territory

Then came the Orlando debate, when he had to defend his record in support of the Texas Dream Act, the state law that giving in-state tuition rates to illegal immigrants who graduate from Texas high schools. He stood his ground, but it turned out to be unfamiliar territory: He’d lost his position on the far-right end of the Republican pack.

Rick Perry had never let that happen in any of his previous campaigns. Let’s face it. It didn’t really take political genius to hold onto his inherited job as governor in a state as red as Texas. To keep it, he’d needed only to convince some 750,000 (half the number of usual voters in the Republican Primary) that he was the most conservative candidate in the race. Remember 2010, when he easily dispatched political heavyweight Kay Bailey Hutchison by claiming the tea party movement as his own?

Post-Orlando, Perry grew increasingly desperate to re-assert his right-wing bonafides. But those darn debates kept coming! Soon he was in Michigan, experiencing a brain-freeze for the history books. It might have been forgiven, had he not been so flippant (oops?) about his mistake. He checked his last small and sad shred of dignity at the door of David Letterman’s green room.

By Iowa, his message about job creation had been shelved, replaced with ads about gays in the military and his Christian faith. The defender of our Founding Fathers seemed to have second thoughts about the legislative branch of government, suddenly suggesting Congress should only meet part-time. The man who once pledged allegiance to unfettered free markets began excoriating “vulture capitalism.” Was he advocating government regulation of Wall Street? Who was this guy?

Forget the Dream Act?

Actually, a guy not so different from the one who has served as Texas governor for the past decade.  This is the man who de-regulated university tuition, but now complains it’s too high. And that Texas Dream Act he signed? This year, he advocated legislation permitting law enforcement officials — even school cops — to inquire about immigration status. The former Democratic state representative has always had an uncanny ability to shift with political winds.

Thursday, Perry expressed lovely sentiments when he suspended his campaign, but the contortions and expediency continued. The anti-Washington candidate who mentioned that he married his high school sweetheart in every speech embraced thrice-married Newt Gingrich, a guy who’s pulled down millions in Washington consulting contracts.

Perry’s campaign suspension was excellently timed to upstage the broadcast of an interview with Gingrich Wife Number Two, who revealed that Newt demanded an “open marriage.” To allay our confusion, our family values governor reminded us that redemption is a central tenet of Christianity.

Will his last act as a presidential candidate earn him something in the future? Will we be calling him Mr. Secretary, or at least, Mr. Ambassador? Stay tuned, to see what role Rick Perry will play next.

Patricia Kilday Hart