George Bush’s approval ratings are at an all time low.  The Democrats control not only Congress, but also the majority of state legislatures and governor’s mansions.  The talk of a transformational Republican agenda – of winning over a generation of Latino voters by passing immigration reform and smashing the core of the Democratic base by privatizing parts of Social Security and Medicare – has ceased.

But Karl Rove soldiers on.  Optimistic.  Defiant.  Unapologetic.

For those who have followed Rove’s career closely, the similarity of the new, post-White House Karl Rove to the old Karl Rove is not a surprise.  From his earliest days as a political operative to the pinnacle of his power after the 2004 election, Rove has evidenced a remarkably consistent style.  He gets into the details.  He makes a plan and defends it to the end, consequences be damned.  He relentlessly rains violence on his objective.  He concedes nothing. 

Upon leaving Washington in August of last year, Rove announced more modest intentions than he had coming into the White House.  He planned, he said, to hit the speaking tour, “make some money,” and stay “on the political scene helping my friends.”

In addition to the speeches, Rove is a contributor on Fox News and has a column on the Wall Street Journal’s op-ed pages.  He also hints that he is informally advising John McCain’s presidential campaign. 

As a commentator, Rove is more a cheerleader for the Republican Party than a danger to Democrats.  In fact, his articles are downright boring.  Most of them explain why at any given moment things are bad for the Democrats and good for the Republicans.

Rove’s insightful analysis: the Democratic presidential candidates have had “a nasty race” whereas the Republicans had “a serious debate about serious issues.”  Hillary Clinton “lacks her husband’s political gifts” and is “hard and brittle.”  Barack Obama is “lazy” and “given to misstatements and exaggerations.”  Rove’s most recent piece purports to reveal to readers Obama’s “new vulnerability.”  A speech Obama gave in Houston on February 19th was apparently politically devastating, “distinctly non-centrist, even proudly left-wing.”

Inevitably there will be more of these neatly packaged Republican talking points disguised as “analysis” to come:  Why the Democratic nominee for Vice President will hurt the ticket in November.  Why the Democratic convention was a disaster compared to the Republican convention.  Why this event or that is changing the race in a way that helps the Republican nominee.

Thankfully for Democrats, Rove, banished to the back of the newspaper, has been rendered pretty harmless these days.  That is, unless you confront him on the lecture circuit.

Last week, I had the chance to watch Rove engage in some hand-to-hand combat in an appearance at the University of Pennsylvania.

Ivy League students are not exactly a sympathetic Karl Rove crowd.  Outside the event, attendees were greeted by a small group of protestors urging impeachment – admittedly a relatively poor showing compared to some of the straight up riots that greeted Rove on college campuses during his White House years.

Inside the event, Rove was greeted with tepid applause and a series of hostile questions.  It was a scene that has likely been repeated at universities across America: self-righteous, well-educated students taking their best shots at outwitting Bush’s Brain. 

You could almost see it in their eyes, fantasizing about the headlines they might generate, if they could only get Rove to admit that he’s corrupt or that Republicans are evil.

The problem is that it seems impossible to catch him off guard.  Rove has heard virtually every imaginable criticism of himself and the Bush Administration – and he’s prepared to answer.  In fact, the great joy of Rove’s post-White House life is that he now gets paid more money to do what he loves most: spar with his antagonists.

Over the course of the evening, Rove exhibited a certain pattern of behavior.  Greet him with a friendly question, expect a thoughtful discourse on some issue combined with a criticism of Democrats and/or the media.  Greet him with a challenge, expect him to bare his teeth and lunge at your jugular.

Sometimes Rove unravels his opponent’s logic and flips it on its head or introduces new elements that not only evade the attack, but open up new lines of counterattack

Other times he just calls his interlocutors stupid or tells them that they’re on the side of the terrorists – or both.  (“If you think the president doesn’t have the right to listen in on foreign terrorists, that’s fine.  But frankly, with all due respect, it’s pretty stupid.”) 

Rove considers himself a sort of “great white whale” and has referred to his critics as the Captain Ahabs who are after him.  (Recall in the story who wins.)

“This may surprise you,” he told his audience early on, “but I’m sort of a feisty person.”

The first questioner at Penn set the tone for the evening by calling Rove a “cancer eating away our civil liberties.”

Needless to say, the questioner received supportive applause.  And for a second it looked like some undergrad had just gotten away with telling off Karl Rove.  Wow.

But Rove was immediately on the edge of his seat. 

“Thank you for that thoughtful rant,” he said sarcastically.  “Do you feel better?”

He paused for the laughter.

“I want you to feel good about yourself.”

Now there was growing applause.  And it was for Rove.  Turns out, this mob might not like Karl Rove, but they like a good fight and the Boy Genius was proving to be worth the $5 ticket price.

Leaving the plate: the civil liberties rant guy. 

Next up: the Iraq guy. 

Wasn’t the Bush Administration’s selling of the war in Iraq a “cynical manipulation”?  (Fantasy headline: “Rove Shamed by Penn Sophomore, Admits Iraq War is Immoral”)

Rove was relishing this.  He reached into a folder he had brought with him on stage and pulled out a sheet of paper.  One by one, he read a series of quotes by “supporters of the Bush Administration” essentially arguing the case about the evils of Saddam Hussein and the threat of weapons of mass destruction.

Then came the coup de grace: “I think for you to say these comments, by Bill Clinton, Hillary Rodham Clinton, John Kerry, and Al Gore are a cynical manipulation to mislead the American people is unfair.”

I was close enough to the questioner to see his defeated expression as the crowd erupted.  He lingered for a second, appearing to search for a clever retort, but finally just slinked away from the podium.  If you’re going to go toe to toe with the Evil Genius, you have to do better than that. 

The next questioner went for the low blow, asking about Bush’s mental capacity, or, more specifically, his pronunciation of the world “nuclear” as “nucular.”  (Fantasy headline: “Rove Duped By Undergrad, Admits Bush is Stupid.”)

“I’m not sure I understand the import of your question,” Rove drawled, “Is it that he’s from Midland, Texas and doesn’t talk like people in the northeast?”

Having painted his opponent as an elitist snob, he let it hang there, the pause growing awkward.

The person sitting next to me whispered, “That girl looks like an idiot.”

This is the essence of the Rovian way.  Take no prisoners.  Stick to the message.

Rove has a fractal quality.  On matters big and small, his responses are defined by a few basic structures which he recursively extends and applies to any question of politics or policy. 

Asked about the 2000 election, he pivoted to the media.  The real controversy, according to Rove, is that the media announces winners in East coast states before the West coast is done voting. 

Asked about his alleged ruthlessness, Rove promised to “help end Barack Obama style politics,” which he characterized as underhanded.

Speaking before audiences who are unlikely to be as versed in the details of politics, Rove gleefully exaggerates, elides, and, occasionally, outright lies to his audience.

In the remaining hour of his Penn performance, Rove provided a ringing defense of wiretapping, increased presidential power, and Social security privatization.  He also provided a critique of the “unproductive role” journalists play in elections. 

The biggest impediment to health care: too many medical malpractice lawsuits.

On Social Security: “I’m going to be dead.  Best of luck to the rest of you.”

And then there’s this scandal you’ve probably never heard of before.  According to Rove, the Democratic Party is in a conspiracy with voter registration groups and inner city drug addicts to steal elections across the country.

The hits just kept on coming right through his closing remarks, in which he paid tribute to the amazing communication and debate of ideas at the White House.  Even though no one brought up the groupthink and isolation of the Bush White House, Rove apparently deemed it a criticism important enough to debunk.

Always on the offensive, it was a fitting ending to a bravura performance.

Rove has joked that in his spare time he likes to “tear the tops off small animals.”  That certainly seemed to be the case at Penn last week.  But in Rove’s professional life, he focused his energy on hunting big game.  Among his prizes: Ann Richards, Max Cleland, Tom Daschle, and John Kerry.

Despite these victories, Rove failed to accomplish his most ambitious goal of building a dominant Republican governing coalition that would last for decades.

Rove’s destiny went unfulfilled in large part because he was overrated as an architect.  The political edifice he erected was built on a shaky foundation and made of shoddy materials.  More importantly, his architectural aspirations were undermined by his real talent as a demolition artist.  Rove’s legacy is not in what he built, but in who he tore down – mainly, his opponents.

And in his new life after the White House, he’s still at it.

In a year that began with Democrats feeling certain they would win back the White House, a quiet panic has begun.  According to some Democrats, it sounds something like this: “We’re dead meat.” 

The cause of all this dread is John McCain, a.k.a the Democrats’ worst nightmare.  With McCain now the de facto Republican nominee (and the Democrats apparently unable to choose one of their own), euphoria has given way to a sense of unease in the Democratic establishment.

The conversation in the Democratic race, not long ago dominated by quibbles over the mechanics of health care coverage, has shifted gears.  The new question: Who can beat John McCain?

The Clinton campaign argues that she has years of experience taking on the Republican attack machine.  She’s a known quantity.  Her negatives are baked in.  She has the experience.  She has national security credentials.

The Obama campaign argues that he can appeal to voters beyond the reach of Hillary Clinton.  As the candidate who owns “change” in a change year, he has the potential to transform American politics.  And he didn’t vote with McCain on the war in Iraq.

But while the Democratic candidates continue to duke it out – and Democratic insiders continue to wring their hands – the rest of the country is only beginning to be exposed to what is sure to be a long road to the White House. 

To be sure, McCain has many strengths.  His compelling personal story, maverick reputation, and aura of integrity make him popular with independent voters and give him a crossover appeal.  He even has the potential to make inroads with the Latino population (a key group in the Southwest and in Florida) that George Bush was never able to pull off.

Nonetheless, there are a number of reasons John McCain shouldn’t start ordering fabric samples for the Oval Office couches just yet.

The Democratic Party is more energized than it has been in decades.  After taking back the House and the Senate in 2006 and watching George Bush sink to public approval ratings in the low 30s, Democratic voters have acquired a taste for victory.  The energy is palpable and quantifiable.  Democratic voter turnout this year has dwarfed that on the Republican side.  In fact, Clinton and Obama have each received twice as many votes as McCain in the primaries and caucuses so far.

McCain’s strongest support in the primaries has been in states that he will not carry in the general election.  McCain has arrived at the Republican nomination through good luck and good timing more than anything else.  Would-be Republican nominees sapped each other’s strength on the right (Romney, Huckabee, and Thompson) and the other demi-moderdate, Giuliani, blew up just in time for his voters to flee to McCain in Florida.  The states that guaranteed him the nomination, California, New York, and New Jersey, are states he is sure to lose to Clinton or Obama.

The Republican Party is demoralized and unenthusiastic about McCain.  At the Conservative Political Action Committee Conference this week, McCain received a healthy dose of boos mixed in with his applause.  The misgivings movement conservatives have about him go beyond his willingness to jab his finger in the eye of the Republican establishment and his flirtation with leaving the party, maybe even serving as John Kerry’s running mate.  It’s his positions on immigration, campaign finance reform, taxes, torture, ANWR, and global warming.  Some of the loudest voices on the right, including Ann Coulter and Rush Limbaugh, are threatening the conservative equivalent of sepukku: voting for Hillary Clinton.  While McCain can expect to consolidate support among rank and file Republicans, he is unlikely to generate enthusiasm among them and has a long way to go with movement conservatives.   

The heart of the Republican base, evangelical voters, is the constituency least likely to support McCain.  Evangelicals, who McCain called “agents of intolerance” during his 2000 presidential campaign, have yet to embrace McCain and there are indications that many of them never will.  McCain demonstrated in South Carolina that he can make nice with some evangelicals.  But does anyone really believe evangelicals will turn out in the kinds of overwhelming, unprecedented numbers that they did for George Bush – and which put him over the top?  Take a hint from national evangelical leader James Dobson.  “I am convinced Senator McCain is not a conservative,” Dobson said this week.  “I cannot, and will not, vote for Senator John McCain, as a matter of conscience.”

The independent voters who are attracted to McCain don’t really know him – and they will have plenty of time to learn about things they won’t like.  The independent voters I talked to in New Hampshire and Massachusetts preceding his primary wins in those states actually seem to have no idea who John McCain is.  They know about Vietnam.  They know about dirty tricks.  And they know about straight talk.  What many independent voters don’t know is where he stands on Iraq, Iran, tax cuts for the wealthy, health care, abortion, and a host of other issues that have yet to be discussed.  McCain has built a powerful personal brand.  But he has yet to be exposed to the scrutiny of a general election campaign and independent voters may find that he’s not what they think.  They may not even like what they hear.  McCain is uncharismatic on the stump and, in a general election, may not have what it takes.

McCain is notoriously bad at talking about the economy.  In Michigan, where the issue was central, McCain found himself only able to deliver the “straight talk” that jobs aren’t coming back to Michigan.  While much of McCain’s appeal is based on his independence and willingness to tell it like it is, U.S. presidents are not elected by selling pessimism about the economy, particularly when it’s on the verge of a recession.  In American politics, the most optimistic candidate usually wins – or at least the one that doesn’t appear committed to less jobs and more wars.

History is on the side of change.  More often than not, a party doesn’t get a third term in the White House.  See, for example, Bush/Gore in 2000, Carter/Ford in 1976, Nixon/Humphrey in 1968, Kennedy/Nixon in 1960, and Eisenhower/Stevenson defeat in 1952.  That being said, there are exceptions to the rule, most notably George Bush’s “third Reagan Term” in 1988, Franklin Roosevelt’s third and fourth terms in 1940 and 1944.  But the war on terror is not World War II – and George Bush is not Ronald Reagan.