In the end, Al Gore came back home, back to the bedrock
populism that has been the strength of the Democratic Party, back
to a political perspective that might have pleased his father -
a border-state senator who opposed the Vietnam War and supported
civil
rights. In his promise to fight for "working families" and his indictment
of the Republicans - "they're for the powerful, and we're for the
people" - Gore defined himself in his acceptance speech much as progressives
in the party had hoped he would.
"If he takes a populist tone and hammers on the issues, then we'll
win," Rep. Jan Schakowsky, a progressive from Illinois had said
hopefully before his speech. "People want to hear he's on their
side."
This strategy could lift the sagging Gore campaign
if he pursues it with conviction until November. Despite the strong
economy, there is deep popular discontent. Polls indicate that voters
are almost evenly divided on whether the country is on the right
track. They also think the wealthy and big corporations have prospered
in recent years, but not everyone else - a fairly accurate perception.
They are looking for improvements in education, health care and
retirement security rather than tax cuts. Gore's promises to stand
up to powerful interests such as "big tobacco, big oil, the big
polluters, the pharmaceutical companies, the HMO's," and to "work
for you every day" and "never let you down" could be a powerful
message.
If people believe it.
"The trouble with Al Gore," quips comedian Will Durst,
"is that I believe a lot of what he says - until he says it." Gore's
credibility problem has less to do with his personality than with
history. He may be intelligent, erudite and experienced, but he
has hardly distinguished himself as a consistent partisan of "working
families." Nonetheless, although he lacks the folksy charm that
allows Clinton to appear to be a man of the people, Gore did come
across in his acceptance speech as earnest, well-intentioned and
even a little humble, making the case that the presidential election
was not a popularity contest but "a day-by-day fight for the people."
Leading up to the convention, it had looked like Gore
was preparing to fight the election on Republican theocratic turf,
forming a ticket with Connecticut Sen. Joseph Lieberman that seemed
more ready to do battle with Satan than with big corporations. Lieberman
himself once had a reputation as a fighter - for civil rights and
later for consumer protections - but more recently he had become
a critic of affirmative action and a willing servant of his state's
big insurance companies. The veep choice also underscored the connection
that both men have to the Democratic Leadership Council (DLC), the
corporate-funded faction of the party that is ardently pro-business
and equally hostile to any policies that would regulate business
or redistribute wealth and income.
Similarly, Gore's pledge to reform campaign finance
- while vastly superior to Bush's determination to give money more
influence over politics - runs up against both his recent history
as an especially aggressive fundraiser and the overwhelming corporate
funding evident at the convention itself. "This convention is all
about money, and especially corporate money," Wisconsin Sen. Russell
Feingold told the dissident Shadow Convention. Yet despite Gore's
admission that he is an "imperfect messenger" of campaign finance
reform, Feingold hopes Gore will make it a central issue in the
campaign. The clash of corporate influence and Gore's populist credibility
recurs time and again. For example, he promised to "honor equal
rights and fight for an equal day's pay for an equal day's work."
Yet Gore, like the administration in which he served, has been unwilling
to champion the key working women's legislative demand - equal pay
for work of comparable worth. It's a winner with women of all income
levels, whose support Gore desperately needs, but it also has strong
support from men, who recognize that their families would benefit
from their wives bringing home more money. But after years of unsuccessfully
pleading for support, Gail Shaffer of Business and Professional
Women/USA has concluded that the Clinton/Gore administration held
back because they were only willing to cross big corporations on
a few issues at a time. This is hardly an example of making hard
decisions to do the right thing against powerful interests, as Gore
has promised to do.
In a fleeting reference to one of the most divisive
issues among Democrats, Gore argued for "fair trade," saying that
"we must set standards to end child labor, to prevent the exploitation
of workers and the poisoning of the environment." It was broadly,
if mildly, in tune with the views of organized labor - as well as
the majority of Americans. Clinton had promised the same when he
first ran for president - but did nothing to implement the idea.
It may not be popular with the big corporate donors to the party,
but if the administration had taken the pledge to protect workers
rights and the environment seriously, Gore would not be in such
bad shape in the polls now.
The list of hypocrisies and discrepancies between Gore's
populist campaign message and his political record could go on and
on. But ultimately it is good that he has decided to run his campaign
as a populist. Although there were still plenty of "New Democrat"
flourishes - like emphasizing debt reduction, attacking popular
culture and
hiring more police - the campaign now is at least in part a rebuff
of the DLC, which urges Democrats to focus their campaigns on white,
middle-class families making more than $50,000 a year and to shun
any intimations that powerful corporations might be responsible for
the problems faced by many Americans.
Gore's decision to be a working-class tribune is an
implicit recognition that he has weak support even among traditional
Democrats. To the extent that Gore relies on progressive movements
and working-class voters, he may also be more beholden to them if
he wins. Although they argued that Gore would be more easily influenced
than Bush, leaders of the party's left-wing, such as Rev. Jesse
Jackson and Los Angeles mayoral contender Antonio Villaraigosa,
argued in meetings at the convention that the prospects for progressive
policies depend ultimately on strengthening popular movements.
The New Democrats, most analysts argue, helped the
party neutralize Republican attacks on liberalism by being tough
on crime, urging elimination of welfare, emphasizing personal responsibility
and favoring budgetary restraint. While that tactic has been successful,
to judge from opinion polls, it has often taken its toll (reinforcing
the destructive war on drugs, expanding the death penalty and settling
for an overly harsh and unsupportive version of welfare reform).
On other counts, such as supporting corporate-friendly trade deals,
the New Democrats have increased their fundraising but alienated
voters.
Apart from the merit of any individual New Democrat
policy idea - and many are acceptable to progressives - there are
some fundamental weaknesses in their strategy. As Ruy Teixeira and
Joel Rogers argue in their new book, America's Forgotten Majority,
what at first appealed as a way of providing tactical political
cover for preserving core Democratic values, became an increasingly
conservative strategy of moving away from government intervention
in the economy on behalf of working people. In 1992, Clinton talked
of balancing rights and responsibilities for everyone. But in practice
his demand for accountability and responsibility applied mainly
to the poor, not corporations. Since the "third way" is defined
mainly as an alternative to liberalism and conservatism, it simply
moves debate to the right, while undermining any alternative on
the left.
Yet for a political philosophy that was designed primarily
as a way to succeed electorally, the most damning indictment of
the New Democrat approach is that the Democrats have lost ground
in the House, Senate, state legislatures and governorships since
Clinton was elected. Furthermore, the comeback in Congress after
1994 was largely a result of more vigorous defense of "old Democrat"
programs, like the minimum wage and Social Security - as well as
aggressive mobilization by the labor movement, which is often at
odds with New Democrat proposals.
The New Democrat approach was developed in an era
when budget deficits constrained political ambition, but the continuing
economic squeeze on most working-class families combined with the
prospect of budget surpluses has opened up new opportunities for
dramatic initiatives. At a panel discussion sponsored by the Campaign
for America's Future, pollster Stanley Greenberg argued that Gore's
best hope was to focus on issues and "clearly define contrasts with
bold proposals in tune with the current mood of the country," especially
education. "The public is ready for bold," he said. "George Bush
can't compete on bold."
The Democrats clearly have decided to draw contrasts
on health care, especially their advocacy of a patient's bill of
rights, prescription drug coverage for seniors, and health insurance
coverage for children as a gradual step toward universal health
coverage. Gore will oppose school vouchers and advocate more money
for school modernization, smaller classrooms, early childhood education,
teacher training and tax breaks for college costs. At best this
amounts to "bold lite." Gore will also draw the line with Bush by
opposing privatization of Social Security and big across-the-board
tax cuts tilted to the rich. That defense is ultimately good but
not exactly bold.
Perhaps Gore's boldest proposal is the least progressive:
paying down the national debt and balancing the budget, even in
a recession. These old Republican nostrums are unpopular politically,
and they make little sense: being truly bold on both education and
health care would pay off more both socially and economically than
debt reduction in good times. In a recession, balancing the budget
only would compound problems.
The Gore agenda at least enlarges on the mini-initiatives
Clinton adopted and provides a contrast on important points with
Bush (including non-economic issues, like reproductive rights).
Ultimately, making a sharp contrast means Gore will have to dismantle
the aura of compassionate conservatism and "take on Bush on his
past record," argues AFSCME President Gerald McEntee. While Gore
may personally try to take the high road, one labor leader argued,
union members will be most motivated by fear of Bush and congressional
Republicans, not Gore's positive proposals.
But Gore does need to actively establish himself as
a fighter. Instead of spending all his time in elementary schools,
crawling around on the floor, it might be good to join a picket
line, as Sen. Paul Wellstone did during the convention with workers
in Santa Monica from the Loew's Hotel - a corporation headed by
a major Gore financial backer. In a videotaped speech to the AFL-CIO
delegates, Gore energetically promised to strengthen laws to protect
the right of workers to organize. The promise was not part of the
acceptance speech to the national audience, however (even though
labor unions have a more favorable public-image rating than Gore
himself, according to a recent Greenberg poll).
Gore's advocacy of a somewhat more activist government
offered an opportunity to redefine the Republican issue of values
and morality as well. Gore argued that the honor of the presidency
entails raising the minimum wage to honor work, providing child
care to honor children, preserving affirmative action to honor equality.
But Gore could go much farther in delineating a public morality,
such as replacing the drug war with a strategy to minimize harm
or calling for a moratorium on the death penalty, a move now supported
by 63 percent of the public that would starkly contrast with Bush's
record.
Gore heads into the fall stretch of the campaign with
an amalgam of so-called old and New Democrat ideas. The populist
wrapping rhetorically falls short of even a patrician Franklin Roosevelt
denouncing "malefactors of great wealth," but it keeps alive a suggestion
of the working-class oriented politics that has served Democrats
well. But lurking within this populist integument is the contradictory
force of big corporate money that is even more overwhelming in this
year's election. Is it possible to lead the charge against the powerful
interests while taking their money? Not likely. But the populist
Gore is still the best incarnation of the candidate that the Democrats
could hope to find.
David Moberg is a senior fellow of the Nation
Institute.
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