Ron Paul’s Nevada delegates refuse to abandon their hero

MINNEAPOLIS -- While the Republican convention was getting off to a delayed start across the river in St. Paul, one Nevada delegate was here in Minnesota's other Twin City to see his hero, Ron Paul.

All the talk of freedom and liberty was making Arden Osborne emotional. He actually had to wipe away a tear. He felt a little silly for it, but also totally fulfilled, giddy with the satisfaction of an unlikely mission more than a year in the making.

Osborne, a 38-year-old Web designer who lives in Las Vegas, is one of four members of the Nevada delegation to the Republican National Convention who are loyal to Paul, the libertarian Republican Texas congressman whose presidential campaign acquired a life of its own on the Internet.

Young people especially embraced Paul's views, from his opposition to the war in Iraq and foreign entanglements generally to his belief that the Federal Reserve should be abandoned and the United States returned to the gold standard.

"It's emotional for me because it's true, everything they talk about," said Osborne, a youthful-looking man with sandy hair, wire-rimmed glasses and a goatee. "This is the last bastion of freedom in this country right now."

He was talking about the Rally for the Republic, a day-long "counter-convention" to the coronation of Republican nominee John McCain.

After basically taking Monday off in deference to Hurricane Gustav, the GOP convention was swinging into full gear Tuesday at the Xcel Center, home of the NHL's Minnesota Wild.

The Paul rally was at the Target Center, home of the NBA's Minnesota Timberwolves. Organizers said they expected a sellout crowd of more than 18,000.

A few hours before Paul was scheduled to speak, the arena already was mobbed, with acolytes lining the sidewalk outside to chant, "Ron Paul revolution -- bring back the Constitution."

It was a motley crowd befitting a mass movement of self-styled misfits and independent thinkers. Guys in polo shirts mingled with tattooed ladies, old-school Republicans rubbed shoulders with Naderite Greens, outlaw bikers with hacker intellectuals.

The Nevadans include a Mormon former missionary and a Culinary union worker. In this crowd, they are celebrities.

Within the Ron Paul movement, what they pulled off is acquiring the status of legend. People hear "Nevada" and their eyes light up. A similar situation unfolded in Washington state, which also had its convention delegation successfully challenged.

Osborne and his allies planned it all, they say.

They turned out at the Jan. 19 caucuses in enough numbers for Paul to come in second with 14 percent of the vote. Not even close to the 51 percent attained by Mitt Romney's slick, professional operation, but not bad for a more or less ragtag, grass-roots operation of nontraditional primary voters. And better than McCain, who came in third.

They had read up on the party rules and knew what came next. They went to county Republican conventions across the state and signed up to go to the state Republican convention, where they made up as many as half the delegates.

At that gathering in April, they pushed through a rules change to allow open elections for convention delegates.

Faced with an unexpected situation, the state Republican Party shut down the convention. Party officials say it was because there wasn't enough time to complete business, but the Paulites believe the establishment panicked at the prospect of a democratic process that would shut out its handpicked, pro-McCain party loyalists.

Eventually, the embarrassing situation resulted in a rebuke from the Republican National Committee, which called the Nevada Republican Party "inept" for its handling of the situation. The party was forced to incorporate four Paul delegates into its 34-member delegation, including Osborne.

Growing up in Virginia, Osborne was one of those willful, creative kids that drive parents to distraction. "From a very early age, it was hard to control me," he said, half-bashfully, half-proudly.

His mother enrolled him in a military academy, which he credits with teaching him discipline. Afterward, he moved to California, where he never finished college but pursued what he considered education.

The Paul people figure they make up as many as 250 of the more than 4,000 delegates and alternates on the convention floor. They say security eyes them warily, and the McCain campaign is reportedly trying to figure out who they all are so it can keep tabs on them and prevent disruptions.

To different degrees, the Nevada Paul supporters say they tried to make nice with the other Nevada Republican delegates. Osborne got himself elected to the executive board of the Clark County Republican Party and distanced himself somewhat from the more rowdy antics of other Paulites. He disapproved of the rogue, nonparty-sponsored convention about 300 of them held in June. He was trying to be helpful, a good soldier, an advocate for his beliefs without being pointlessly obstinate.

Now, Osborne feels like that approach got nowhere. "We don't feel like we're welcome with the delegation," he said.

Another Paul delegate, Carl Bunce, chimed in, "It's become completely obvious they don't want us around. We knew that before, but we thought we could create a friendship."

Instead, they complain, they're not notified of any delegation events; it's taken days to get a schedule.

That just might be a function of the Nevada delegation being somewhat disorganized, and of the disruptions to the convention as a whole. Schedules have been up in the air, and events have been planned and canceled on a moment's notice. But the Paulites feel they aren't getting the respect they worked so hard to earn.

Nevada Republican Party Chairwoman Sue Lowden said she hoped to put the divisions in the past.

"They're here, they're registered Republicans and I hope they stay," she said. "This is a good time for everybody to get to know John McCain better and get to know Governor (Sarah) Palin. I'm very hopeful that's who they'll vote for."

Bunce said the Paul delegates are under no obligation to do so. "I'm not going to support John McCain. I don't have to. I'm a Republican. I want to participate in the process."

Anyway, they figure being left out hasn't hurt them.

"Not to be too negative about the convention, but it's a nice contrast from that to hear people giving genuine speeches instead of scripted talking points," Osborne said.

On Monday night, they attended a Paul rally with a few thousand fellow travelers, a festive affair with live music.

On the stage Tuesday afternoon, films chronicled Paul's campaign, which began as your standard fringe effort destined to get a handful of votes and not be much missed, but evolved into much more, raising $34.5 million and drawing crowds across the country.

Paul, who is not supporting McCain and is not welcome at the Republican convention, hopes to keep the movement alive beyond the election as a group called the Campaign for Liberty. In Nevada, Osborne has started a group called the Nevada Liberty Alliance that he hopes will support like-minded local candidates.

A pre-Paul speaker Tuesday afternoon was riffing on the two-party system.

"Every election, it's said we have a choice between the stupid party and the evil party," Tom Woods said. "Once in a while, the two get together and do something that's both stupid and evil; that's called bipartisanship."

Then he launched into a dissection of foreign policy, finding not much difference between McCain and his Democratic rival, Barack Obama.

"These guys are talking the truth," Osborne said. "The Federal Reserve, the monetary system, the deep roots of our problems, beyond the shallow stuff the other candidates talk about. This is the real stuff."

Contact reporter Molly Ball at mball@reviewjournal.com or 702 387-2919