News and Features
Bill Clinton is moving to install Terry McAuliffe as the head of the DNC, a cynical move in this day of pay-to-play politics.
Some reasons (personal and political) for applauding Colin Powell's new appointment.
Al Gore will be playing a special political role in the future.
The election reveals a deep need for voting reform.
Powerful elements converged to determine who would be president.
They'd rather die than admit it, but environmental organizations thrive on disaster. They remember well enough what happened when Ronald Reagan installed James Watt as Secretary of the Interior. Hardly had Watt hung an elk head on his office wall before the big green outfits were churning out mailers painting doomsday scenarios of national parks handed over to the oil companies, the Rocky Mountains stripped for oil shale, the national forests clearcut from end to end.
By the time the incompetent Watt was forced to resign, the Sierra Club, the National Audubon Society, the Natural Resources Defense Council, the Wilderness Society and the National Wildlife Federation had raised tens of millions of dollars and recruited hundreds of thousands of new members. All this money transformed the environmental movement from a largely grassroots network into an inside-the-Beltway operation powered by political operators in Washington, DC.
Then came the Clinton/Gore era. Because the mainstream green groups had anointed Gore as nature's savior and had become so politically intertwined with the Democrats, they had no way to disengage and adopt an independent critical posture when the inevitable sellouts began.
Thus it was that the big green groups let Clinton and Gore off the hook when the new administration put forward a plan to end "gridlock" and commence orderly logging in the ancient forests of California and the Pacific Northwest. Similarly, they held their peace when Gore reneged on his pledge to shut down the WTI hazardous-waste incinerator in Ohio. Year after year they stuck to their basic game plan: Don't offend the White House; preserve "access" at all costs.
One consequence of this greenwashing of the Clinton Administration was a sharp decline in the green-group memberships. But by now the big green outfits had grown comfortable on fat salaries, inflated staffs and fine new offices.
To maintain the standard of living to which they had now become accustomed, the big green groups sought to offset their dwindling membership revenues by applying for help from big foundations like Rockefeller, the Pew Charitable Trusts and W. Alton Jones. But charity rarely comes without strings. All the above-mentioned foundations derive their endowments from oil, and along with the money they inherited an instinct for manipulation and monopoly.
By the mid-1990s executives of the Pew Charitable Trusts were openly declaring their ambition to set the agenda for the environmental movement during Clinton time, using as leverage their grant-making power. Let a small green group step out of line, and in the next funding cycle that group would find its grant application rejected not just by Pew but by most of the other green-oriented foundations that were operating like the oil cartel of old.
So now, with the shadow of a Republican administration across the White House, the green groups see a chance to recoup, using the sort of alarmism that served them so well in the Reagan-Watt years. Already during the campaign they painted George W. Bush as a nature-raper, and then, only days after the election on November 7, e-mail alerts began to flicker across the Internet, warning that the incoming Congress will be the "most environmentally hostile ever."
But how can this be, if we are to believe the premise of the big green groups, backed by regular "dirty-dozen lists" from the League of Conservation Voters, that Democrats are by definition kinder to nature than Republicans? Democrats gained seats in the House of Representatives and now split the Senate with the Republicans 50/50. By this measure the e-mails rushing across the Net should be modestly optimistic instead of presaging doom.
In fact, one of the natural kingdom's greatest enemies in the US Senate, Slade Gorton of Washington, has gone down to defeat. Another nature-raper, Representative Don Young of Alaska, is being forced to vacate his chairmanship of the House Resources Committee, victim of a term-limits agreement by House Republicans a few years ago.
Good news doesn't raise dollars or boost membership. So the big green groups will go on painting an unremittingly bleak picture of what lies in store. But the likelihood is that a Bush administration won't be nearly as bad as advertised by alarmists.
Indeed, there are some causes for optimism. The model here is Richard Nixon, our greenest President, who oversaw the creation of the Environmental Protection Agency and smiled upon our single greatest piece of environmental legislation, the Endangered Species Act. Nixon was trying to divide the left and worked to develop an environmental constituency. Bush, if he makes it to the White House, will be similarly eager to garner green support.
Bush will also be keen to undercut attacks on the question of his legitimacy as President, and a kinder, gentler policy on the environment would be one way to do it. The current betting is that his nominee for Interior Secretary will be Montana Governor Marc Racicot, a Republican version of the present incumbent of the post, Bruce Babbitt. If the speculation about Racicot is borne out, this would be a severe blow to the expectations of the Republican hard-liners, who yearn for Don Young to supervise the dismantling of whatever frail environmental protections America still enjoys.
Of course there will be savage environmental struggles over the next four years. Oil leasing will be one battlefield. Salvage logging will be another. But if you receive a hysterical mailer from one of the big green organizations, set it aside and give your support to one of the small groups that have been fighting doughtily on the same issues through Clinton time, when the big groups were toeing the party line and keeping their mouths shut. Why not, for example, send a check to Earth Island Institute in San Francisco, thus honoring its founder, the late David Brower?
(Another Republican sea chantey)
They all went down to stop Miami-Dade
From making counts the judges had OK'd.
Unlikely toughs, with ties and crisp white shirts,
They went to hand Al Gore his just deserts.
So, noisily, they jammed into the hall.
Then Sweeney, from the House, began to call.
Shut it down, shut it down, shut it down.
The first machine vote's truly holy.
Shut it down, shut it down, shut it down,
With a heave-ho-ho and a bottle of Stoly.
One congressman by whom they had been sent:
DeLay in name, and also in intent.
Prepared to knock a head or bust a snout
To show what our democracy's about,
They bumped some chests and maybe pulled some hair,
And Sweeney's martial call stayed in the air:
Shut it down, shut it down, shut it down.
The rule of law is holy, too.
Shut it down, shut it down, shut it down.
With a heave-ho-ho and some microbrew.
The election results reveal what may be an "emerging progressive majority."
With No Decision 2000 a face-off of spins--moralistic outrage for the Republicans (don't steal our election) versus lofty principle for the Democrats (every vote should count)--the Bush gang has had the edge in passion and unity. In the postcertification phase, the Republicans and their conservative movement pals were impressively maintaining a lockstep message, while the Democrats were trying hard to mount a stand-by-our-man front. House Democratic leader Richard Gephardt and Senate Democratic leader Tom Daschle trotted to Tallahassee to demonstrate their support for Gore, but it was a bit late in the game. Other high-profile Democrats--Senators John Kerry and Bob Kerrey, Representative Jerrold Nadler--hit the Sunshine State and the talk shows to help out. And on Capitol Hill, most Democrats--angered by Republican rhetoric and majority whip Tom DeLay's schemings--were egging Gore on. As a senior Democratic House staffer quipped, "DeLay has rallied the Democrats better than Al Gore could."
But questions hovered: How long would the Democrats hang tough? And would they play tough? "Most Democrats are going to wait and see how the court contests go and see what happens with the Supreme Court before they pull out," says one chief of staff for a Democratic senator. But unlike Bush, Gore had to deal with cracks within his bloc. Senator Bob Torricelli remarked that the Florida certification was "the beginning of the end." Senator Byron Dorgan indicated that time was short for Gore: "This is a search for an accurate count, but it cannot be an endless count." Former Labor Secretary Robert Reich counseled retreat: "The country needs closure." Representative Bud Cramer said, "The time has come for this to come to a close." And even though Gore had much of his party on his side, the Democratic effort did not match the fervor of the GOP postcampaign endeavor--and not merely because the Democrats did not send mobs into county buildings in Florida. The remarks of Gephardt and Daschle were temperate, almost defensive, as they pointed out that they were backing the abstract principle of counting all votes. They expressed little emotion regarding the GOP attempt to block the vote-counting process so crucial for Gore. From the Democratic perspective, the election was being hijacked by the Republicans, yet, for the most part, the alarm wasn't raised.
A few Democrats did sound off. James Clyburn, who chairs the Congressional Black Caucus, said, "We know what it is to have an election stolen from us." He warned that Democrats who wimp out during the postelection combat would lose support among black voters. Nadler, reacting to the GOP-led protests that perhaps precipitated the shutdown of the Miami-Dade recount, complained about the "whiff of fascism." But such fightin' words were not part of the Gore/Democratic talking points.
This was the Democratic plan: Stay calm. "Our message is patience," said an aide to the House Democratic leadership. "We have to embody reasonableness. We feel we have votes and the law on our side, and that the Republican tactics and vehemence will backfire. People may mistake that as a message of not caring, of not being passionate. But we believe this can work." In fact, early on in the postelection battle, Gore decided not to rev up supporters. His campaign discouraged Jesse Jackson, who staged a protest in Florida and raised questions about allegations of racial intimidation on Election Day. "Gore told Jackson to get out of the state, and he told labor not to organize," says one Jackson associate. "He cooled Democrats out, just when Bush and his people were going into overdrive. Gore thought he had the votes. This was a classic case of Gore not believing in politics." It may have been smart to de-Jessify the dispute, since Jackson brings his own baggage to headlines. But the Gore-Lieberman camp kept its distance from the charges of racial intimidation--which, though unproven, were of intense concern to many of Gore's most ardent supporters.
For better or worse, Gore mostly stuck to a legal strategy--and eschewed political mobilization, outrage and crusading rhetoric, even as polls and a few Democratic pols turned against him. As one Democratic Senate aide said wistfully, "It's always been our problem. We Democrats have trouble going for the jugular. We always try to sound reasonable. Reason may not be enough this time."
Three days before the election, I took part in a television panel with former White House flack Joe Lockhart, who was doing his best to hold up his end of the tattered Gore-Lieberman banner. When the show was over, I asked him what he really thought and he said, "I'm pinning everything on the Electoral College." It now takes an effort of memory to recall, but this was what all the Democratic elite were saying that week. So the sudden moral emphasis on the popular vote is slightly unseemly, especially in view of the fact that the vote hasn't been counted yet.