Then a young woman stands up. She's a veteran, she says, and her brothers and sisters are still serving. She's interested to hear how Williamson's plan will affect the military. Williamson deploys her usual talking points....Then Williamson takes a turn. "Everybody says, 'Oh, the troops. Bring them home, bring them home,' " she faux-whines in the same voice she used to mock my fears in Los Angeles. "I appreciate that the choice is between something bad and something bad. But has anybody in this room given more than five minutes of thought," Williamson says, her purr dropping to a growl, "of what it will mean to the women of Afghanistan if the Taliban take over?"
Accusing an actual veteran of not considering the impact of war? Implying it's selfish for a former soldier to want her siblings to come back home from a war zone? Williamson's moral table-turning has gone too far. I imagine the rest of her campaign crumbling: Empty rooms in states where she doesn't belong. Preaching to a choir who worships another faith. The shared smirks of the other candidates when Williamson quotes the Dalai Lama. Some other nominee in a blazer rising to Donald Trump's goads at the debate.
Then I look at the veteran. She's nodding at Williamson. She's beaming. Williamson smiles back serenely, as if welcoming the newest member of her flock. Then she turns to find the next one.