In His Speech, McCain Needs to Reassemble the Nixon-Reagan Conservative Coalition

U.S. News asked speechwriters from past Republican administrations to weigh in with their thoughts on John McCain's acceptance speech. Curt Smith wrote speeches for George H. W. Bush.

A maxim says, "Dance with the one that brung you." Democrats waltz with leftist pressure groups, bowing and bartering. By contrast, the Republican card features Americanism vs. tribalism, general vs. special interest, and melting pot vs. manic pluralism. John McCain's acceptance speech must twirl this coalition of the winning.

For 40 years, the GOP has danced with the forgotten American, siring Richard Nixon's silent majority, the Reagan Democrat, and the emerging Republican majority. It thrived until George W. Bush's reverse Midas touch, which is McCain's acceptance problem: Whatever W touches, he destroys.

The speech is the Arizonan's last best hope to lure Main Street "and specifically," a writer said, "the people reviled in Main Street": middle-brow and -class, unhip and unboutique. As Ronald Reagan said, their "community of values" includes God, work, family, and reverence for everything American. McCain must apply a populist laying on of hands.

In 2004, for example, more evangelicals voted than all blacks and union members. Moreover—this is crucial—their view of secularism, multiculturalism, and border insecurity tracks millions of working-class Catholic, Orthodox Jewish, and Protestant non-"born-agains." Most believe, as Robert Hughes wrote, that "America is a construction of mind," eclipsing race, sex, or creed.

This belief helped Nixon and Reagan win 49 states. Nominees ignoring it lose: Gerald Ford, Robert Dole, 1992's George H. W. Bush. An ex-Navy man, McCain will show this week if he is out to sea about his nation's core. "To my opponent, America is clients whose support he must buy," he should say. "To me, America is individuals whose support I must earn."

Working on JFK's inaugural, Theodore Sorensen reread the Gettysburg Address. McCain ghost Mark Salter should absorb past Republican acceptances. In 1980, Reagan closed with silent prayer. In 1988, Bush etched "a thousand points of light." Above all, McCain should read Nixon's brilliantly written and delivered 1968 confessional: each a centrist conservative, trying to explain and bond.

Nixon's 1960 acceptance "rang every bell," the New Republic said. Nineteen sixty-eight's rerang them, swelling his Gallup lead over Hubert Humphrey from 2 to 16 points. To Lou Harris, it "swayed more votes than any [prior] polled acceptance." GOP-ers re-aired it on prime-time TV. In other ads, Milhous voiced passages over a montage of still photos. In Kennedy and Nixon, Chris Matthews hailed "a masterful address": the linchpin of a campaign.

Like McCain, Nixon sought to reveal "the whole man." His dance was cultural, twirling those who loathed the 1960s: "The great majority of Americans, the forgotten Americans." Ecumenical, quoting Lincoln: "The great God which helped him [George Washington] must also help me." It reassured, auguring détente: "We extend the hand of friendship...to all the people of the world." Prose trumped "Bomb, bomb, bomb Iran."

To be lyrical, a speech should be personal. Nixon drew an indigent child. "He is black. He is white. He is Mexican, Italian, Polish. None of that matters. What does matter is that he is an American child." He then saw another child who "hears the train go by at night and dreams of faraway places where he'd like to go. It seems like an impossible dream." A great teacher, "a remarkable football coach, an inspirational minister encouraged him on his way." Finally, voice changing, breaking: "Tonight, he stands before you, nominated for president of the United States."

Earth to Straight Talk: The Republican majority began that night. Like Nixon, McCain can seem cold, even dour. Worse, he is, Michael Goodwin wrote, "a wooden speaker at best." McCain chants, not explains, tone weak and thin. He must learn the teleprompter; be scrappy, as in Rick Warren's recent faith-a-thon; and grasp that the candidate in sync with the middle class wins. McCain must speak for them, seeming one of them. It won't be easy, since he's not.

Born to privilege, McCain owns at least seven homes, is worth $110 million, and has a daughter, Meghan, who likes "bad boys with tattoos," "bisexual dating TV," and The Big Lebowski, saying "I f*****g love that movie." Meghan won't play in Mayberry. How can Dad? Even Republicans tell Gallup they want "something different" vs. "more of [W's] the same": e.g., mom and pop issues the GOP ignores.

Here's how McCain bridges the divide: Mime Mike Huckabee, lashing those for whom summer is a verb. Mock Obama, as at a recent motorcycle convention: "A couple hundred thousand Berliners made a lot of noise for my opponent. I'll take the roar of 50,000 Harleys." Then, talk straight on culture. Eight in 10 voters back voluntary prayer. "I want radical judges out of our schools—and the faith of our fathers back in." A like number opposes preferences: "More than affirmative action, we need affirmatives lives." Bilingualism scars McCain's "[one] country first." He should ask: "If we can't understand one another, how can we help one another?"

The Iraqi surge disrobed Democrats. He should paraphrase Churchill: "Seldom have so many been so wrong about so much." Seven in 10 Americans back offshore drilling: "Let us speak not of shortages but of supply." Illegal immigration is McCain's albatross. He should shuck it. "My opponent says he is a citizen of the world. I'm a citizen of the United States. We will uphold our laws, preserve our sovereignty, and keep our borders secure."

Lyndon Johnson brooked a credibility gap. This speech can close a fervency gap. According to Pew Research, 24 percent of voters "strongly" support Obama vs. McCain's 17. McCain must goad the left's bicoastal intelligentsia, billionaires, trial lawyers, rock stars, atheists, and double-latte snobs. If they hate the speech, it worked.

Unlike Nixon and Reagan, McCain often seems a stranger in Main Street's foreign land. The acceptance can sway its still-hung jury. Recall who brings Republicans to the dance—and how liberal groups preach "vocal Darwinism—the survival of the shrillest." McCain can treat Americans as prostitutes and lose—or voters as middle Americans, and win.

Curt Smith wrote more speeches than anyone else for President George H. W. Bush, including the "Just War" and Pearl Harbor anniversary speeches and 2004 eulogy to Ronald Reagan. The New York Times calls his work "the high point of Bush familial eloquence." He is the author of 12 books, a GateHouse Media columnist, and senior lecturer, English, the University of Rochester.