Democratic Party

Bill Bradley's fast break

With a big campaign war chest, he thinks he can upset Al Gore.

The Cheshire County Democratic Committee dinner got under way here earlier this month when an angelic fifth-grade girl grabbed a microphone and began singing the national anthem. While someday she may wow the town at high school musicals, on this night the girl’s voice was a little off. But even though she changed keys several times, the crowd of 400 was behind her — they wanted her to succeed — and she kept plugging away, with grace beyond her years. Finally she reached “home of the brave,” and was met with applause in appreciation of her dedication, if not her delivery.

For almost the entirety of former New Jersey Sen. Bill Bradley’s political career, he was that little girl. No matter how much the crowd rooted for him, his podium performances, at least, inevitably disappointed. His keynote speech at the 1992 Democratic National Convention in New York’s Madison Square Garden was more of an air ball than anything he ever lobbed in the same arena during his 10 years as a New York Knick.

His performance that night was the nadir of his life as a public speaker. His continued reference to then-President George Bush as having “wiggled and waffled and wavered” was lame and uninspired; his delivery was crippled by the distractions of unruly Jerry Brown delegates and, more importantly, his wife’s recent breast cancer diagnosis. (She has since recovered.) The speech was so bad, in fact, pundits all but stopped bandying about his name as a prospective presidential candidate — having forgotten, perhaps, about the sleep-inducing stemwinder Gov. Bill Clinton gave in 1988. When Bradley retired from the Senate in 1996 to lecture, teach and write a coffee-table book called “Values of the Game,” he seemed to be riding off into the sunset, off to that land where former senators go to earn boffo bucks and escape reporters and constituents forever.

That’s how it seemed, anyway, until last December, when Bradley charged back from the horizon to emerge as the only Democrat willing to challenge Vice President Al Gore for the 2000 nomination.

The fact that Bradley has chosen this as the year for his candidacy — as opposed to ’88 or ’92, when the nomination was far more up for grabs — makes perfect sense, given his quirky academic’s personality and his love of the quixotic cause. Previous election-year opportunities just weren’t his moment, he explains. He looked in the mirror and felt that it just wasn’t the right time. Now, he says, “I’m on top of my game.”

He might be right. On the crisp April weekend I watched him work New Hampshire — from the state Democratic convention in Manchester to a county party fund-raiser in Keene to a Q&A with Dartmouth students in Hanover — Bradley proved more warm, accessible and charismatic than ever before seemed possible. At his speech on race in New York on Tuesday, he was bold and sincere, and said things that few politicians even seem to think about, much less communicate.

Far from the elitist fumblings of previous gigs, Bradley’s speeches and off-the-cuff chitchat now win converts one by one.

“Up until now I was a Gore supporter,” says Jean Fahey, a teacher and registered Democrat leaving a Bradley appearance at a Claremont Dunkin’ Donuts on Sunday morning. “Now I have to think about it.”

Bradley says that his newfound voice is partly due to a busy lecture circuit schedule since his Senate retirement. “I’ve spent the last three years ‘working the small clubs,’ as Bruce Springsteen used to say,” he explains in an interview. “The microphone is now kind of a friend, instead of a spotlight in your eye.”

“His speaking has gotten a lot better,” says New Hampshire Senate President Clesson “Junie” Blaisdell, whom the Keene dinner honored, and who has yet to endorse either Bradley or Gore. “I thought he did a very good job … He related to that crowd. They seemed to receive him very well.”

But Bradley’s comfort in front of a mike isn’t only due to practice, he says. “I feel at peace with myself, and I realize that’s the key to communication.” He refers to a section in his bestselling memoir “Time Present, Time Past,” when various speech coaches offered prescriptions for his soporific oratory, ranging from “Raise your cheeks” to “Stand straight but not stiff” to “Don’t hold your hands like that” to “Above all, be natural.”

Not surprisingly, that kind of advice didn’t help. Then Bradley realized speaking is not unlike “shooting a basketball. The mechanisms are down but you’ve still got to be able to think. One of the key things is keeping yourself open enough to respond spontaneously to things, and not be locked in so much that you’re going to follow some script no matter what happens. A lot of times, thing pop up that are enormous opportunities if you access your humanity or your sense of humor.”

His backers, of course, love Bradley’s newly accessed humanity and sense of humor. (So do academics and journalists.) His most prominent New Hampshire supporter, failed Senate candidate John Rauh, puts it this way: “Bill Bradley brings not only tremendous intellect to the race, but he’s a very introspective public servant. He cares deeply. And he’s extremely mature. We respect Al Gore … But it’s an important time and we think we have the opportunity here to elect a very unique individual. We find him very in touch with himself.”

In touch with himself or not, Bradley must now face the toughest opponent of his career in Gore, who has been running for president almost since birth, more or less officially so since November 1992. The Gore 2000 infrastructure in New Hampshire and throughout the land is solid; his campaign checks are flowing in; he flies in on Air Force Two. The vice president is seen as so tough to beat, he’s scared away all other potential challengers but Bradley: Nebraska Sen. Bob Kerrey, Massachusetts Sen. John Kerry, House Minority Leader Dick Gephardt and Jesse Jackson have all remained on the bench.

“I am smaller than the Chicago forward I play against so I try to overplay him,” Bradley wrote in “Life on the Run,” his 1976 memoir of life as a New York Knick. “He takes me low, near the basket, and simply shoots over me. I draw three quick fouls. I also miss four open jump shots. [Knicks coach Red] Holzman replaces me.”

Bradley is hoping for a better outcome against an even bigger player this time around. And while he’s clearly the underdog, it’s almost a full year until primary season, and a lot can happen. Bradley has raised $4.5 million, far more than many political observers thought he could, and the front-loaded primary system means that a critically timed misstep by Gore could be fatal. The New Jersey Democrat raised more than $1 million in San Francisco last week alone, at a political star-studded gala that included Republicans and Democrats. A sudden bad break for Gore could suddenly, and decisively, throw momentum Bradley’s way. “I’m bullish on Bradley. I think he has more of a chance to upset Gore than people think,” says William Kristol of the conservative Weekly Standard.

“We have no earthly idea what the next election’s going to be about,” says Charlie Cook, editor of the Cook Political Report. “Not a clue. Is it going to be about Kosovo and the war? About the economy? Or about nothing in particular? We just don’t know, and it adds just another layer of uncertainty.”

Bradley is counting on that uncertainty to throw a few breaks his way.

For all his NBA-accrued street smarts and geopolitical Senate expertise, Bradley considers himself a small-town Midwesterner. Born and raised in Crystal City, Mo., Bradley was the only child of Warren and Susie Bradley. Warren was a high-school dropout who worked his way up from shining pennies at the local bank to amassing a controlling ownership of the same bank a year before his son was born; Susie was a churchgoing grade-school teacher. Because Warren Bradley suffered from arthritis of the lower spine, his son never saw him so much as tie his shoes. Susie Bradley tried to use her husband’s example as a lesson for her son about overcoming the adversities of life. “Look at what happened to your father,” she would lecture him. “He just gave in to pain.”

From early on, Bradley says he made decisions based on intuition and hunches — what he calls thinking “outside the frame.” He accepted a basketball scholarship to Duke University, but changed his mind during a senior-year trip to Europe, when a bunch of high school girls expressed shock that he would choose Duke over Princeton. He also wanted to return to Europe — to Oxford University — to study, and found out that Princeton had produced more Rhodes scholars than any other school. Four days before Duke’s freshman class was to convene, he switched schools.

After fame and championships as a Princeton scholar-athlete, Bradley opted not to hit the pros, instead taking his chance to return to Europe, thanks to Mr. Rhodes. There his horizons were so broadened he didn’t touch a basketball for almost a year.

But in his second year at Oxford, he had an epiphany — one that’s not unlike the recent awakening that spurred him to head for the White House. “I went to the Oxford gym for some long overdue exercise,” he wrote in “Life on the Run.” “There I shot alone — just the ball, the basket, and my imagination. As I heard the swish and felt my body loosen into familiar movements … [a] feeling came over me that stirred something deep inside … I knew that never to play again, never to play against the best, the pros, would be to deny an aspect of my personality perhaps more fundamental than any other … Three weeks later I signed a contract with the New York Knicks.”

In his 10 years as a Knick, and 18 as a senator, Bradley traveled the nation and the world asking people to tell him their “story” — the short bios of regular folk that he peppers throughout “Life on the Run” and “Time Present, Time Past.” Through these experiences, he says, he developed a sense of this country unlike that of the Washington-raised heir apparent. “I got up a lot of mornings … where I never thought of the federal government,” he tells the crowd at a Hanover meet-and-greet.

Bradley also credits his upbringing, and his years with the Knicks, with developing the central preoccupation of his political life: race. He grew up close to an African-American family employee, who introduced him to basketball, since the disabled Warren Bradley couldn’t. When Bradley was 21, his concern took a political turn when he served as a summer intern in the U.S. House of Representatives during the debate over the 1964 Civil Rights Act. His interest in the subject grew during his days on the road with Knicks like Willis Reed, Earl “the Pearl” Monroe, Dick Barnett and Walt Frazier, and it became increasingly complex upon his realization that his beloved Aunt Bub was as bigoted as Jesse Helms. Bradley has been forced to come to terms with race in America as have few white men — especially few white men running for president.

“I have changed in some ways because of my black friends,” Bradley wrote in “Life on the Run,” published two years before he first ran for office. “I regard authority a little more skeptically than I once did. I am more interested in experiencing life than in analyzing it … And, I feel less guilty about the black man’s experience in America, realizing that though some of my friends have come from a poorer background, it did not lack in the richness of family love and joy. I not only think less in terms of a black race but also in terms of other group labels. But, above all, I see how much I don’t know and can never know about black people.”

Seven years ago, on April 30, 1992, Bradley delivered one of the strongest — and oddest — speeches of his career, just after a Simi Valley, Calif., jury acquitted the policemen charged with beating Rodney King. Bradley stood on the floor of the Senate and re-created the 56 blows Rodney King suffered in 81 seconds by banging a lectern with a pencil 56 times. “Pow. Pow. Pow. Pow. Pow,” Bradley said, hitting the desk each time. He called on the attorney general to file criminal civil rights charges against the police officers, and invoked James Baldwin to warn the nation that “the fire the next time is going to engulf all of us.”

In his presidential race, though, it’s not yet clear how his concern about race will translate into policy. Bradley supports hate crimes legislation — unlike Gov. George W. Bush, he points out. He applauds the diversity of Clinton’s presidential appointments, and says that Clinton is “at his most authentic” when talking about race. Above all, he says, his desire to heal the wounds of a racist society are seen in his plans to throw a lifeline to those left behind by the economic recovery.

“One in five children in America live in poverty,” Bradley observed Tuesday, in his long-awaited campaign speech on race. “Among black children, 40 percent are destitute.” While the speech was light on policy prescriptions, Bradley called for “a multiracial coalition” — like the ones that fought “for civil rights in the 1960s and [rebuilt] burned-out black churches in the 1990s” — to help society’s neediest kids, making “sure they have a healthy start, a nurturing childhood and a chance for a good education.” Bradley sees his children’s crusade as a means to provide a “shared purpose” for all of us, reaffirm “our common humanity.”

Conversely, on the Gore 2000 Web site, a questionnaire asking browsers what issue they feel is the “most important facing the United States today” lists seven policy concerns, none of which has anything to do with race. His “issues” page lists 11 categories; again, race isn’t mentioned.

And yet Gore is expected to reap the endorsements of leading black politicians. In what could be a microcosm of Bradley’s uphill struggle for the nomination, sources say most black leaders are likely to endorse the front-running vice president, whose positions on race, poverty and urban issues are strong, if not as strong as Bradley’s. Donna Brazile, a leader in Jesse Jackson’s two campaigns for president, was recently hired to help Gore line up high-profile black supporters.

When Bradley is asked if he hopes that his long-held interest in bridging the racial divide might somehow translate into African-American votes, he says, “Quite frankly, that’s not the central consideration. But if there’s any arithmetic, it’s that way over 50 percent of the American people would like there to be racial understanding. If there is a calculation, that’s the calculation.”

Jake Tapper is national correspondent for Salon.

Senate Democrats heroically fund TSA

Democrats score the dumbest political victory of 2012

(Credit: Reuters/Frank Polich)

On Tuesday, a Senate Appropriations Committee vote effectively highlighted everything that is stupid about politics.

The Transportation Security Administration, a universally loathed government agency, is facing a shortfall, despite its more than $8 billion budget. Instead of having a debate over what effective airport security might actually look like and how much should reasonably be spent on the honestly rare threat of commercial-air-travel-based terrorism, there was a debate over how best to come up with the money needed for all the radioactive naked picture machines and bomb-sniffing dogs. The Democrats suggested passing on the cost of ineffective, cumbersome and intrusive security theater to citizens, via higher fees on airfares. The Republicans, even more predictably, suggested cutting spending that directly helps poor people to ensure there is enough to spend on stopping imaginary future 9/11s.

The newspaper account of the debate in The Hill just reinforced the Republican spin, highlighting the Democrats’ decision to make people spend more money on the hated TSA and downplaying the actual existing Republican alternative to the proposal, which was not “spend less on the hated TSA” but rather “raise money for the hated TSA by slashing needed aid to states.” The Democrats won, or “won,” and now they will earn the fruits of that victory: well-deserved scorn from everyone. And Ben Nelson (D-Troll Town) voted with the Republicans. (Though surely having users pay the fees for supposedly necessary security measures is perfectly conservative, isn’t it? Am I missing something here? I mean besides the fact that the two sides in this debate weren’t actually “liberal” and “conservative” but rather “people who want to come up with a way of paying for the oppressive and useless national security state” versus “people who want there to be an oppressive national security state but hate government spending on feeding and sheltering impoverished people.”)

I don’t know of anyone not employed by the TSA or some other arm of Homeland Security that believes the TSA does a good job and deserves its massive budget, but everyone in Washington apparently feels differently (and is terrified of being blamed for “voting to cut TSA funding” if there is another terrifying and deadly underwear bomber, of course). This is why everyone hates politics and Congress and Washington. This and Iraq. And the drug war.

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Alex Pareene

Alex Pareene writes about politics for Salon and is the author of "The Rude Guide to Mitt." Email him at apareene@salon.com and follow him on Twitter @pareene

The Democratic Senate might just survive

A Senate map that looked bleak a year ago is now littered with surprise pick-up opportunities

Charles Schumer and Harry Reid (Credit: Reuters/Jonathan Ernst)

The growing likelihood that Richard Lugar will lose next Tuesday’s Indiana Republican Senate primary is the latest in a string of unexpected developments that have bolstered Democrats chances of hanging on to the Senate.

As I wrote yesterday, Lugar’s conservative primary challenger, state Treasurer Richard Mourdock, lacks the incumbent’s broad cross-partisan appeal and is closely identified with Tea Party-flavored Republicanism. Democrats, meanwhile, are poised to nominate Joe Donnelly, a moderate third-term congressman who defied the odds to hold onto his seat in the GOP tide of 2010. Mourdock would still probably be the favorite over Donnelly in the fall, just because of Indiana’s red tint, but the seat would be in play – something that would never be the case with Lugar as the GOP nominee.

The implications of a Democratic pick-up in Indiana could be huge. The party entered the 2012 campaign cycle in a defensive crouch, nursing a 53-47 edge in the upper chamber and facing a very challenging slate of races. The basic problem: Because of strong years in 2000 and 2006, the class of senators up for reelection in 2012 is dominated by Democrats, many of them representing marginal and Republican-friendly states. With a close presidential contest, the party won’t be benefiting from the national tide that lifted its congressional candidates in ’06, leaving Republicans with a host of pick-up opportunities – and Democrats with very few.

Well, that was the case early in the cycle, at least. Back then, there was only one clear Democratic pick-up opportunity on the board: Nevada, where John Ensign, the one-time rising GOP star, was forced into retirement by scandal. The race to succeed him, between the appointed GOP incumbent, Dean Heller, and Democratic Rep. Shelley Berkley, is a toss-up.

But since those bleak early days, Democrats have caught some breaks.

The first came in Massachusetts, where the state’s biggest Democratic names all begged off from running against Scott Brown, leaving an assortment of B- and C-list options to a vie for a nomination that looked worthless last summer. But then Elizabeth Warren stepped in and proved herself to be a powerful communicator and a prolific fund-raiser. The Massachusetts race is now among the most competitive in the country, giving Democrats a 50/50 chance of knocking off Brown.

Then came Olympia Snowe’s surprise February announcement that she wouldn’t seek a fourth term in Maine. Quickly, the state’s former independent governor, Angus King, announced his candidacy. King, who won by 40 points the last time he was on a Maine ballot, is now the overwhelming favorite to win in November. While he won’t say which party he’ll caucus with, Democrats in the state and nationally are treating him like one of their own. Chuck Schumer, one of the top Democrats in the Senate, referred to the Snowe seat this week as “ours.”

Two other races that weren’t supposed to be competitive are also on the radar now. In Arizona, Democrats have recruited a candidate with a compelling biography: Richard Carmona, who served as George W. Bush’s surgeon general only to turn on the administration. A Democratic poll has shown Carmona within striking distance of Republican Jeff Flake, while a recent nonpartisan survey put President Obama only two points behind Mitt Romney in the state. There is hope among Democrats that Arizona, with its growing Hispanic population, is more winnable for them than most assume – and that without favorite son John McCain on the ballot, the state would have been theirs in 2008.

There are subtler clues of an unexpectedly competitive race in North Dakota. When Democrat Kent Conrad announced that he wouldn’t run again, the state was written off as an easy Republican pick-up – and it still might be. But some early developments at least offer a glimmer of hope to Democrats. As Politico reported this week:

With a dearth of public polling, the case for former Attorney General Heidi Heitkamp is based on a body of clues.

A Democratic poll showed Heitkamp with a 5-point lead; no Republican data countered the finding. The latest Crossroads GPS air strike included $76,000 to bruise Heitkamp — a sign she’s on the radar of the cycle’s most notorious super PAC. Even Berg blasted an email to supporters recently claiming the state is “Harry Reid’s #1 target.”

Add Indiana to this mix and Democrats have a total of five opportunities (or potential opportunities) for pick-ups that didn’t exist at the start of the cycle. Obviously, they won’t win all of these races, and they may still get routed in a few of them. But when you’re clinging to a 53-47 majority, any seat gained could be the difference between majority and minority status next year.

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Steve Kornacki

Steve Kornacki writes about politics for Salon. Reach him by email at SKornacki@salon.com and follow him on Twitter @SteveKornacki

Dems desert the left

Why aren't Democratic candidates for Senate promoting liberal causes on their websites?

Victories in two Pennsylvania House districts over two conservative Democrats who voted against healthcare reform gave liberals something to cheer about this week. And they’re quite right to focus on primary elections: Nomination contests are really fights over who  will control the political parties. And yet liberals appear to be missing some major opportunities to influence the next round of Democratic senators, just when they have the chance to do so. A look at the websites of the 10 Democratic candidates most likely to become U.S. senators reveals that few of them are interested in several of the issues that have been the hallmark of liberal activism and often frustration during the Obama years: marriage equality, a public option on healthcare, filibuster reform and civil liberties.

Why should we care what candidates have on their websites? The truth is that politicians generally try to keep their promises once they are elected. Moreover, the more visible the promise, the more likely it is that the politician will consider herself bound by it – and face consequences if she votes the other way. Ideally, one would want to see what candidates talk about on the stump, and what they advertise in mailers, TV ads and other formats. But websites have some advantages, too. In addition to being easy to access, they also are open-ended. Presumably, candidates will list every issue they believe is important. Or at least, every issue they want to talk about. And those are the issues, again, that they’re likely to act on if they win.

So I looked through the Issues sections of the 10 Democrats who are most likely to be elected – either challengers rated as having a good chance, or open-seat candidates in Democratic or swing states. In Hawaii and New Mexico, that meant both candidates fighting in a contested primary; in six other states, it meant the odds-on favorite for the nomination.

The results should be disappointing for liberals. Two of the 10 candidates, Heidi Heitkamp in North Dakota and Tammy Baldwin in Wisconsin, don’t even have an Issues section on their websites. For the other eight, I’ll run down the numbers quickly. None of them mentioned support for adding a public option to ACA; indeed, three had no healthcare issues page at all, unless you count a page about protecting Social Security and Medicare, which was quite popular. Two of the eight support marriage equality, both of them in New England (Elizabeth Warren in Massachusetts and Chris Murphy in Connecticut). Only two other candidates mentioned LGBT issues at all, Tim Kaine in Viriginia and Tammy Baldwin in Wisconsin, who featured it in her bio page. Filibuster reform also received only two mentions. For civil liberties and the array of issues related to torture and detention, only Martin Heinrich of New Mexico, who opposed renewal of the Patriot Act, had any mention at all.

By contrast, seven of the eight candidates had a whole section of their Issues pages devoted to veterans, usually alone but in two cases bundled with something else. Now, it’s certainly true that most liberals support help for veterans, but as campaign issues go, this is surely one of the most bland.

I was pretty surprised by all of this, but I was most surprised by the candidates in competitive primaries. In Hawaii, Mazie Hirono is attempting to beat Ed Case from the left, and yet Hirono doesn’t hit at any of these issues that might help her with liberal activists in Hawaii and nationally. And it’s not as if either Hawaii or New Mexico, the two states with contested primaries, is exactly Alabama; there are plenty of liberal Democrats who are going to be voting in those primaries, and liberal positions shouldn’t be the kiss of death in the general election.

So what’s going on? It’s possible that the candidates are being overly cautious. I suspect, however, that what’s really happening is that Democratic interest groups, activists and other party actors are not pushing hard on any of these issues.

And that’s a serious mistake. It’s almost certainly the case that the best time for partisans to influence legislators is while they are running for election to some office for the first time. After all, that’s when they need party support the most – especially for those who have tough primaries, but really for all of them. Once elected, they begin to build personal connections with their constituents, based on bringing home pork or on other personal relationships. Party becomes relatively less important. Certainly, that’s what politicians have an incentive to do – to increase support based on who they are, rather than being constrained by specific policy commitments that, odds are, will make someone unhappy.

Now, it’s true, of course, that it’s still early in the cycle, so some of this could change going forward. And as I mentioned, websites are only one form of candidate advertising. It’s certainly possible that some of these Issues sections were put together exactly how I suggested – by volunteers who didn’t have the authority to commit the candidate to potentially controversial positions – and that as the year goes on things will change.

But what they’re showing right now certainly isn’t what most liberals would like to see. If activists want change on these issues after November, they need to start targeting these candidates now, before it’s too late.

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Jonathan Bernstein writes at a Plain Blog About Politics. Follow him at @jbplainblog

All for none and none for all

Forty years of culture wars and racial battles wrecked the country and the GOP – but it's not too late to change

(Credit: AP Photo/Gregory Bull)

My March 4 post “What’s the matter with white people?” was Salon’s top story that week, and it got a lot of comments and online attention. I went on vacation a few days later, but I’ve wanted to address a few arguments, if belatedly.

I asked “What’s the matter with white people?” because my people are increasingly coming under fire from the right and the left. Republicans have begun to blame not the economy but “dependency” on government and rising rates of single parenthood for the economic troubles of the white working class. On the left, meanwhile, whites are dismissed as the backward base of the increasingly radical GOP, and working class whites, in particular, are derided as racists who won’t vote for Democrats because the party is now led by a black man (ignoring the fact that a larger share of working class whites voted for Barack Obama than for Caucasians John Kerry, Al Gore or Bill Clinton.)

The fact is, working and middle class whites have supported too many Republicans who’ve dismantled the opportunity structure that created the vast (white) middle class from the 1930s through the 1960s – but that’s at least partly because too many Democrats turned their backs on those policies, too. The larger point of the piece, if a 4,000-plus word article can be said to have a single point, was this:

The emerging multiracial Obama coalition has the potential to transform the way we all think about race and politics as we invent the next America — but only if we can all forgo petty racial score-setting and 20th century conceptions about identity. And only if more white people wake up to what they’ve let the Republican Party do to the country in the last 40 years, in the name of holding on to what they think they have.

I was making two related arguments: that whites must begin to face up to economic and political reality – that the party most of them support now stands for destroying not only the social programs they (incorrectly) believe benefit “other people,” but also programs they support, like Social Security and Medicare, food stamps and unemployment, as well as protections for workers who have jobs. My second point was just as important and less commonly heard: I asked that the multiracial left have more empathy for working class whites, and stop stereotyping them and dismissing their political choices, when we disagree, as merely “racist.” Interestingly, I got little or no push back on that point from anyone on the multiracial left, although I have been criticized for that argument many times, going back to the fractious 2008 Democratic primary. Maybe we’re making progress.

The criticism of my “White People” argument came almost exclusively from the right, and there were at least a few points worth engaging.

….

Of course, more than a few people reacted to the headline without thinking (or reading the piece), and I heard a lot of what I predicted I would in the article: I am a racist! How dare I generalize about white people? I would never talk about black people that way!

The best response along those lines came from Newsbusters, the fan club Brent Bozell runs especially to promote me. It featured a typically outraged harangue from Noel Sheppard: “Actual Joan Walsh Salon Headline: ‘What’s the Matter with White People?”  and included this: “Maybe Walsh should check her own racist leanings given her hatred of white people.” Noel, I love white people! Some of my best friends are white. As I even revealed in the piece, that includes some of my own family. You can do better, Noel. Try again.

The reply from the Wall Street Journal’s James Taranto was a little bit more substantive – although he kicked it off on Twitter by shrieking at Charles Murray that I’d accused Murray of “attacking white people!”

I didn’t accuse Murray of “attacking” all white people. I’d made the point that Murray now blames poor and working class whites for their economic struggles, much the way he has always blamed the black poor. Their poverty rate is climbing while their wages and family incomes are falling not because of huge shifts in the economy that favor the wealthy, but because they’re lazy and promiscuous and not terribly bright, and they just don’t follow the rules the way the poor are supposed to. This is the oldest argument around, of course, when it comes to explaining away social inequity and defending the economic status quo. You can find it in the Gospels, in clashes between that bleeding heart liberal Jesus Christ, and those who believed poverty was God’s punishment.  In every age, the struggle for justice turns on how successfully the privileged can justify their wealth as the natural result of their hard work and superior talent and/or the innate shortcomings of their lessers.

In my lifetime, that argument has been racialized. As the nation struggled to right the wrongs of racism, some people began to argue that the problems of poor African Americans had more to do with their own personal and cultural shortcomings than society’s, and that our efforts to use government to help made the problem worse.  But I was raised knowing that virtually every awful thing said about black people had once been said about Irish Catholics, and so I’ve spent a lot of my life refuting that racialized scapegoating, sometimes successfully, sometimes not.

Lately, though, I’ve felt that we’re getting some help with that task from Republicans, as they scapegoat working class whites in terms they used to only use against blacks — their economic problems are due to the fact that they’re lazy, too many don’t get married and they want government to take care of them (Charles Murray’s argument). Taranto misunderstands the point I’m making about the new GOP line:

When Walsh accuses Murray of “attacking white people,” she seems to be hoping that persons of pallor will be open to a similar appeal–that they will finally wake up and start voting what the left considers to be their “interests.” Essentially that means embracing government dependency: “Today, many white folks who are voting Republican don’t seem to know one important fact: they are, in fact, the ‘takers.’ ” Once they figure that out, Walsh thinks, they’ll join the blacks and the Hispanics and the professional elite, and the Democratic hold on the electorate will be secure.

That’s not what I was saying, at all. I’m not someone who makes the simplistic case that the working class is voting against its interests by backing Republicans. This is a debate in which I think the right has the better side. Claiming that working class Republicans – or black and Latino Republicans, for that matter — are “voting against their interests” is hugely condescending, a vestigial Marxism that assumes the only thing that matters is material conditions. It can also sound like we’re saying: “How dare you presume you have anything in common with the wealthy, peon?”

The Republican allegiance of some working class people may well be aspirational, as conservatives argue. Liberals like John Rawls’ famous theory of justice, which held that most people would want to design a society in which, should they find themselves at the bottom, they would be protected. It turns out that a lot of people prefer social policies that would protect them if they make it to the top, however unlikely that kind of economic mobility is turning out to be in the U.S. today. Voting Republican may also reflect genuine cultural and religious values. Growing up Irish Catholic, I can’t pretend that my relatives who vote Republican over the issue of abortion are dupes suffering from some kind of “false consciousness.” They care about that issue passionately. We can disagree with conservative working class white people, we can wish they had different priorities, but when we “assume” they’re voting against their own interests, as though we, not they, know their interests, our condescension shows.

….

On the other hand, I do not mean to disrespect working class whites, but I have to say: it would be great if their politics reckoned with reality. As I pointed out in the piece, red-state Republican areas enjoy the highest levels of federal spending. That’s an inconsistency that can’t be totally explained by culture war politics. White working class Republicans are simply wrong about the way government has worked, in their own lives and in the lives of others, and Democrats need to talk about that, respectfully.

Taranto hints at the case other Republicans make more forcefully – that the more Americans become dependent on government, the more they’ll vote Democratic, and that’s Barack Obama’s not-so-secret plan. “Republican supporters will continue to decrease every year as more Americans become dependent on the government,” Tea Party Sen. Jim DeMint wrote in his last book. “Dependent voters will naturally elect even big-government progressives who will continue to smother economic growth and spend America deeper into debt.” I think DeMint’s notion is alarmist GOP propaganda. But I’d be happy to have a political debate about the role of government in our lives – one that’s untainted by racism, fears of a lazy, parasitic “other” or charges that Democrats are “socialists” seeking to impose some Soviet-style or lefty-European system on America. I think it should be clear that Democrats love capitalism, because twice in the last 75 years, under Franklin Delano Roosevelt and then under President Obama, we saved capitalism from itself.

Finally, Taranto (and a lot of letter writers who didn’t seem to read my piece), claimed that the “demographic doomsday” scenario, in which a declining white population leads to the gradual extinction of the GOP, is “overblown.”  I agree – and I said so in the article. I regularly quarrel with liberals who insist that a magical “people of color” alliance is going to move the country to the left, permanently. It’s not going to happen. In the 80s and 90s, it was easy to imagine that Latinos and Asians might be receptive to Republican messaging around family, small business, religion, as well as hostility to big government, given that immigrants often came from countries ruled by oppressive governments (whether of the left or the right). Certainly Karl Rove once believed that. Republicans chased many Latinos, Asians and even conservative African Americans into the arms of Democrats by allowing racism and xenophobia to flourish in their party unchecked. As the GOP gets beaten in coming election cycles, it’s going to have to figure out a way to appeal to more than just white people — or perish as a party.

Also: most scenarios in which the white majority “disappears” in the next couple of decades ignore the fact that about 50 percent of the fastest-growing “minority” – Hispanics or Latinos – consider themselves white. (That’s why the Census has a category for “non-Hispanic whites.”)  So do most mixed-race Americans in many studies. Besides, the definition of “whiteness” has regularly shifted throughout American history – Irish, Italians, Jews and other non-Nordic, Anglo immigrants all took turns in the “non-white” category in the 19th and 20th centuries. It’s quite possible that our notion of whiteness – or let’s just say “the American mainstream” or “real Americans,” in Sarah Palin’s language – will expand to include some categories of Latinos, Asians and mixed-race folks, not to mention Clarence Thomas, Herman Cain and Condoleezza Rice.

To build a better, more inclusive country – to invent the next America – both parties are going to have to forgo identity politics and appeal to voters around principle and policy, not fear and contempt. Democrats are getting there; Republicans still have a ways to go before facing up to the fact that the identity politics practiced by the Tea Party represents a divisive dead end.

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Joan Walsh

Joan Walsh is Salon's editor at large.

The economic story Obama must tell

We need government investment to restore prosperity. The president needs to explain that in a way that makes sense

(Credit: AP Photo/Susan Walsh)

Look at it this way: If the Wall Street banking crisis had taken place in 2007 instead of 2008, George W. Bush wouldn’t be able to leave home without being jeered. (As it is, he rarely leaves Texas.) Hardly anybody would buy the brand of tycoonomics GOP presidential candidates are selling. People would understand that save-the-millionaires tax cuts and deregulation had dramatically failed. President Obama would get more credit for pulling the economy out of a nose dive.

Alas, people have short attention spans and a weak understanding of abstract economic issues. You have to tell them a story. The failure of policymakers to do that has been driving progressive MVP Paul Krugman crazy. How can it be, he asks, that governments foreign and domestic are repeating the mistakes of the early 1930s — slashing government spending to reduce budget deficits, putting more people out of work, reducing demand, and inadvertently increasing  deficits? Rinse and repeat.

Part of it is that the lessons of the Great Depression belong to history, and, as such, are infinitely malleable. Arguments your grandfather would have dismissed — such as Mitt Romney’s plans to assure prosperity by topping off Scrooge McDuck’s bullion tank — are given credence today. Granddad may not have grasped Keynesian economic theory, but he remembered “Hoovervilles” and bread lines. Scrooge McDuck wasn’t a cartoon figure for nothing.

Professor Krugman acknowledges that some kinds of economic thinking seem counterintuitive. “Thus,” he writes, “it’s normal to think of the economy as a whole as being like a family, which must tighten its belt in hard times; it’s also completely wrong.” Yet it makes him crazy that even President Obama has used the belt-tightening analogy.

While deeply misleading, the family metaphor works politically because it sounds like common sense. Sometimes I wonder if Grandpa didn’t also have an advantage in living closer to the farm. Though innately conservative, rural people do understand that if you skimp on fertilizer in April, you’ll have a poor hay crop come September and a hard time getting your livestock through the winter.

But nobody ever puts it to people like that. Even somebody like Krugman can be brilliant at argumentation, less gifted at storytelling. Democrats generally have lost the knack.

The key is to stress government investment. In Arkansas, where I live, nothing could be clearer than the relationship between public investment and economic prosperity. It’s practically written on the landscape, yet many need reminding.

I recently read a beautifully written memoir called “A Straw in the Sun,” by Charlie May Simon, an Arkansas writer who homesteaded in Perry County (where I live) during the 1930s. Back then, rural Arkansans basically lived in the Third World. Simon and her neighbors grew their own food, made their own clothes, music and home brew. They had no electrical power, telephones, indoor plumbing or paved roads. Few in Perry County did. They walked to town, or hitched rides on mule-drawn wagons.

Enchanting as Simon makes it sound, the world she evokes feels not 75 years distant, but 175. After World War II, what brought Perry County into the 20th century was government investment. My 65-year-old neighbor was in high school when the main highway through the county was first paved after the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers bridged the Arkansas River at Conway.

So it came as something of a surprise to read that my ambitious state representative, a genial former neighbor now living over in Conway, has conceived a plan to return us to the bad old days. Supposedly by eliminating income taxes from 40 of the state’s less prosperous counties — along with concomitant cuts in public spending — GOP visionaries envision that nothing less than an economic miracle will take place.

Never mind why no such thing happened during Arkansas’s first 150 years or so of statehood. Thankfully, the proposal got nowhere. What’s amazing to me, however, is that otherwise intelligent people could be so blinded by ideology as to entertain so preposterous a scheme. Believe me; these fellows are rapt with sincerity. What’s more, their ideological brethren are taking over state governments from sea to shining sea.

That Conway, a pleasant town of approximately 60,000, should serve as the epicenter of this backward revolution strikes me as comically ironic. Although filled with Republicans, there are few cities of like size whose prosperity depends more obviously upon public largess. Located along Interstate 40, it’s also home to three state agencies and the University of Central Arkansas, a rapidly growing public institution. Trim UCA’s budget 20 percent, and Conway’s economy would go into a tailspin.

The city’s two private colleges are greatly dependent upon state-sponsored tuition scholarships, just as its nonprofit medical center relies upon Medicaid and Medicare. I could go on. Even Conway’s two newest large private employers are Internet- (hence government) dependent.

Around these parts, alas, Democrats have lost control of the story line.

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Arkansas Times columnist Gene Lyons is a National Magazine Award winner and co-author of "The Hunting of the President" (St. Martin's Press, 2000). You can e-mail Lyons at eugenelyons2@yahoo.com.

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