Illinois Senate Career of Barack Obama - Campaign For Bobby Rush's Congressional Seat

Campaign For Bobby Rush's Congressional Seat

In September 1999, Obama and fellow Senator Donne Trotter (neither faced re-election that year) both announced their candidacies for the March 2000 Democratic primary election for the U.S. House of Representatives seat held by four-term incumbent candidate Bobby Rush. Rush had been badly defeated in the February 1999 Chicago mayoral election by Richard M. Daley—who won 45 percent of the African-American vote and even won Rush's own ward—and was thought to be vulnerable. The support of some veteran Democratic fundraisers who saw Obama as a rising star, along with support of African-American entrepreneurs, helped him keep pace with Rush's fundraising in the district's most expensive race ever.

During the campaign, Rush charged that Obama was not sufficiently rooted in Chicago's black neighborhoods to represent constituents' concerns, and also benefitted from an outpouring of sympathy when his son was shot to death shortly before the election. Obama said Rush was a part of "a politics that is rooted in the past" and said he himself could build bridges with whites to get things done. But while Obama did well in his own Hyde Park base, he didn't get enough support from the surrounding black neighborhoods. Starting with just 10 percent name recognition, Obama went on to get only 31 percent of the votes, losing by a more than 2-to-1 margin despite winning among white voters.

Read more about this topic:  Illinois Senate Career Of Barack Obama

Famous quotes containing the words campaign, rush and/or seat:

    You campaign in poetry. You govern in prose.
    Mario Cuomo (b. 1932)

    Is this then a touch? quivering me to a new identity,
    Flames and ether making a rush for my veins,
    Treacherous tip of me reaching and crowding to help them,
    My flesh and blood playing out lightning to strike what is hardly
    different from myself,
    On all sides prurient provokers stiffening my limbs,
    Walt Whitman (1819–1892)

    Off Highway 106
    At Cherrylog Road I entered
    The ‘34 Ford without wheels,
    Smothered in kudzu,
    With a seat pulled out to run
    Corn whiskey down from the hills,
    James Dickey (b. 1923)