By Jared Chausow
By Katie Toth
By Elizabeth Flock
By Albert Samaha
By Anna Merlan
By Jon Campbell
By Jon Campbell
By Albert Samaha
Most conservatives agree. You may think Bush is further to the right than Gore is to the left, but right-wingers see things differently. They consider Gore a flaming liberal and Bush a flickering conservative at best. Yet 90 percent of Republicans say they are satisfied with Bush, while 86 percent of Democrats say the same of Gore. That four-point spread may be the margin by which Republicans take the White Houseespecially when you factor in Nader's strength among liberal-leaning independents. Their antipathy to Gore is Bush's recipe for victory. (If you don't believe that, ask the Republican Leadership Council, which is running ads for Nader in swing states.)
Why is the right more willing than the left to settle for a flawed champion? In part because conservatism has two congruent wings: the reverent and the rich. It's clear why the wealthy are for Bush, but what about the faithful? They're not in it for the tax cutand they're not naive enough to think Bush will follow their lead on the social issues. They've watched pol after pol preach the gospel while winking at the sinful like a regular Clinton. The Christian right isn't any more thrilled with Bush than the secular left is with Gore. But they're standing by their man.
Why won't the left? The question is far from academic, because what's throwing this election is not just Bush's seduction of the soft center but the abandonment of the Democratic party by its progressive core. The last-minute drive to get out the African American vote shows how hard the Democrats have to work for it this year. But blacks have a clear interest in defeating Bush, who has already coined the phrase "affirmative access" to replace programs that benefit minorities. However, there's another group of Democratic defectors that is far less likely to return home, if only because their ox won't be gored by Bush. Call them the latte left.
Feminists and populists may be front and center in the Nader campaign, but polls show that his average supporter is a well-off, college-educated white male. These legions march under the banner of bread and roses, but their interests are a long way from their ideals. The disjunction between the class they are and the one they think they are makes Nader voters highly susceptible to symbolic gestures, since their politics isn't guided by tangible needs. They already have economic and social equity, which is why they don't notice the difference between Bush and Gore.
I don't dismiss the desire to rebuild a shattered radical movement, the righteous rage at Democrats for adapting crucial planks of the conservative platform, and the determination to create an unapologetic alternative. But why doesn't the same impulse arise on the right, among those who had to suffer a Republican convention that must have seemed like an Episcopalian healing circle? The upchuck factor is in play all across the political spectrum, yet you don't see fundamentalists flocking to Pat Buchanan. They are willing to compromise in order to advance incrementally. They understand the Maoist maxim: Dare to win.
The same cannot be said for true believers of the left. In fact, this is now the major difference between the left and right in American politics: their attitude toward power.
It wasn't always that way. Progressives built major institutions in this country because they navigated the democratic process and tolerated its considerable imperfections. But in the 1960s, a new spirit of refusal took hold of the left. While the black movement kept the faith in electoral politicsand won major gains in civil rightswhite radicals were guided by a primal rage at power. This was a pure feeling, sensate and splendid. It was fine for making culture and expanding consciousness, but it didn't produce enduring political change.
Meanwhile, something else was going on in the Aquarian Age. The right was reconfiguring itself along populist lines. These new conservatives weren't led by an instinct to rebel. They weren't drawn to revolution. They were willing to be patient, building a network of like-minded partisans, school board by town council. They spent their money wisely on think tanks and publications. And they grew these affinities into a well-disciplined force that could enlist the resentments of the moment. In 1980, they came to power with Ronald Reagan as their spokesmodel.