On the campaign trail, you encounter all kinds. Some – the majority – lift your heart, encourage you to “fight the good fight,” let you know your values are theirs, that they are working for you, believe in you, are counting on you. That is heartening. On the other side are those…of whom the poet warns.

Recent events – recent for all of us – have caused many good people to pause, to wonder aloud about what our world is coming to, when a good man’s life is callously, mindlessly, ideologically, and violently ended for having a conversation about having conversations. People grow increasingly numb, one step short of total disillusionment, or then of finding valor, heart, faith, and fortitude.

We live in a world dangerously unsettled, where the object of greatest concern is too often not True North, not doing what is right and wishing to do that, not helping others, but indulging cold-hearted indifference to life, craving attention and material gain over all else, or perhaps venting emotion.

Today, not just recently but back over the past half dozen years, those who have stepped up – those who step out to speak earnestly, work diligently, and hope fervently for what is right – are mocked, then dogged and protested, in some cases physically attacked, or – as we just saw – even killed.

So, what are we coming to? Who in their right mind will step up to serve in public office under such circumstances? Only the brave and foolish, the idealistic and dangerously naïve. As a candidate on the campaign trail, I see a lot of things, some truly heartwarming, some profoundly disappointing.

This past two weeks, I have seen and heard an outpouring of pain, people who were, for many years, close – or felt – close to Charlie Kirk, people for whom his gut-wrenching loss reminded them of other losses and near losses. It rattled their faith in our political process, in America, in the future.

Then, at the same time, I have seen people consoling each other. I have stood among those holding candles and prayed, watched hundreds singing and fortifying each other, with mutual trust, hope, and a different vision, one that sees a turn for the good. Many of those, credit to Kirk, are young.

Then, in other venues, I have been yelled at face-to-face by the supporters of worthy opponents, told that I need to be here or there, and that I am not responsive enough to this party or that, that I should be out debating, not spending days with law enforcement on the northern border, or else.

Or else what? I muse over that visceral sentiment, people entitled to twist my words, hoping to influence my intentions, those who say donors and interviewers will be upset with my decisions, that my priorities are off, must be changed to suit other interests. Why? Because they want what they want, forgetting who I am: I am who I am, and that is not a special interests guy, period.

That critical people want me to soften this position, or harden that one, vilify this person or celebrate that one, go light on those doing wrong, condemn those doing right, redefine myself to be elected to governorship, is of no matter to me. Those who would change me misunderstand me.

I will not change who I am, a thoughtful conservative, propelled by a loving God, loving family, loving neighbors, and by the hope that my skills can be used to lift everyone in this state, and that my mistakes will be understood when I make them, but will not include forgoing principle for money.

I marvel at all this, some days sink a bit at what people think, how people behave, how they imagine they can attack me enough to change my views; it will not happen. If I have disappointment, it is that people do not expect more of leaders, those in political leadership, those who step “into the arena” to do good, as they see it. Political leadership, at its best, is moral leadership and tireless.

The poet to whom I alluded in the first paragraph is really a writer, one who was himself vilified, falsely attacked, and named Rudyard Kipling. In his famous poem “IF” he wrote:

“If you can keep your head when all about you, Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too…” 

“If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, Or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise…”

“If you can dream—and not make dreams your master; If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, And treat those two impostors just the same…”

“If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken, Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools…”

Then, in short – in life, you win. May the wind in his sails a hundred years ago lift us from that distance, and today fill mine, since his words ring true, as sure as they rhyme.

Robert Charles is a former Assistant Secretary of State under Colin Powell, former Reagan and Bush 41 White House staffer, Maine attorney, ten-year naval intelligence officer (USNR), and 25-year businessman. He wrote “Narcotics and Terrorism” (2003), “Eagles and Evergreens” (North Country Press, 2018), and “Cherish America: Stories of Courage, Character, and Kindness” (Tower Publishing, 2024). He is the National Spokesman for AMAC. Today, he is running to be Maine’s next Governor (please visit BobbyforMaine.com to learn more)!



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