Well, it’s nice to be back, I must say, we liberals of the Commonwealth (God save it!). Nice of you all to have us back, too, since your last experience with one of us as a Democratic presidential candidate didn’t work out that well. You’ll be happy to know that Mike Dukakis is still doing fine, and staying out of armored vehicles whenever possible, and that Susan Estrich, the mastermind behind the 1988 Dukakis juggernaut, is comfortably ensconced in her new career as a wind-up Liberal in the Fox News Channel playroom–although, to those of us who are liberals here, watching Susan Estrich on television giving advice on how to run a national political campaign is rather akin to taking a course in navigation from Exxon Valdez Capt. Joe Hazelwood. Anyway, it’s nice to be back, as I’ve said, and I’m glad that nobody holds a grudge too long.
I should explain, now that Senator John Kerry is the presumptive nominee, that the phrase “Massachusetts liberal” doesn’t mean what it’s said to mean in the feverish fundraising letters of the lunatic right. I should explain this particularly now, as gay people are marrying each other here in the Commonwealth (God save it!), a development that likely will cause Massachusetts to be portrayed as Gehenna’s vestibule over the next several months. In mid-June, in fact, our Republican governor, Mitt Romney, went before a Senate committee and made pretty much that case against the state over which he at least nominally presides. Save us from ourselves, Mitt wailed plaintively, while back home, more than a few people wondered whether Governor Mitt was auditioning for the day when Dick Cheney decides it’s time to spend more time with his family.
In any case, we’re nothing of which to be all that afraid. Dukakis didn’t lose primarily because he was a liberal. He lost because he was the 1962 Marv Throneberry of presidential candidates running the 1962 New York Mets of presidential campaigns. He lost because he wasn’t politician enough to keep that liberalism from being hopelessly caricatured even by as hopelessly maladroit a public presence as George H.W. Bush. He lost because he couldn’t even define his own public career. He lost because he couldn’t even define the political culture in which that career was formed. Give John Kerry this. He’s maddeningly allusive, and he constructs his positions the way that Great Auntie Cabot built her beach house on Nantucket–rambling, with a porch just where you think a bay window should go–but he’s sure about who he is and where he came from (even if, occasionally, he seems like the only one who is).