I was sorry to learn of the sudden death of 2000 Democratic vice presidential nominee Joe Lieberman. But his long and stormy career did offer some important lessons about party loyalty, which I wrote about at New York:
Joe Lieberman was active in politics right up to the end. The former senator was the founding co-chair of the nonpartisan group No Labels, which is laying the groundwork for a presidential campaign on behalf of a yet-to-be-identified bipartisan “unity ticket.” Lieberman did not live to see whether No Labels will run a candidate. He died on Wednesday at 82 due to complications from a fall. But this last political venture was entirely in keeping with his long career as a self-styled politician of the pragmatic center, which often took him across party boundaries.
Lieberman’s first years in Connecticut Democratic politics as a state legislator and then state attorney general were reasonably conventional. He was known for a particular interest in civil rights and environmental protection, and his identity as an observant Orthodox Jew also drew attention. But in 1988, the Democrat used unconventional tactics in his challenge to Republican U.S. senator Lowell Weicker. Lieberman positioned himself to the incumbent’s right on selected issues, like Ronald Reagan’s military operations against Libya and Grenada. He also capitalized on longtime conservative resentment of his moderate opponent, winning prized endorsements from William F. and James Buckley, icons of the right. Lieberman won the race narrowly in an upset.
Almost immediately, Senator Lieberman became closely associated with the Democratic Leadership Council. The group of mostly moderate elected officials focused on restoring the national political viability of a party that had lost five of the six previous presidential elections; it soon produced a president in Bill Clinton. Lieberman became probably the most systematically pro-Clinton (or in the parlance of the time, “New Democrat”) member of Congress. This gave his 1998 Senate speech condemning the then-president’s behavior in the Monica Lewinsky scandal as “immoral” and “harmful” a special bite. He probably did Clinton a favor by setting the table for a reprimand that fell short of impeachment and removal, but without question, the narrative was born of Lieberman being disloyal to his party.
Perhaps it was his public scolding of Clinton that convinced Al Gore, who was struggling to separate himself from his boss’s misconduct, to lift Lieberman to the summit of his career. Gore tapped the senator to be his running mate in the 2000 election, making him the first Jewish vice-presidential candidate of a major party. He was by all accounts a disciplined and loyal running mate, at least until that moment during the Florida recount saga when he publicly disclaimed interest in challenging late-arriving overseas military ballots against the advice of the Gore campaign. You could argue plausibly that the ticket would have never been in a position to potentially win the state without Lieberman’s appeal in South Florida to Jewish voters thrilled by his nomination to become vice-president. But many Democrats bitter about the loss blamed Lieberman.
As one of the leaders of the “Clintonian” wing of his party, Lieberman was an early front-runner for the 2004 presidential nomination. A longtime supporter of efforts to topple Saddam Hussein, Lieberman had voted to authorize the 2003 invasion of Iraq, like his campaign rivals John Kerry and John Edwards and other notable senators including Hillary Clinton. Unlike most other Democrats, though, Lieberman did not back off this position when the Iraq War became a deadly quagmire. Ill-aligned with his party to an extent he did not seem to perceive, his presidential campaign quickly flamed out, but not before he gained enduring mockery for claiming “Joe-mentum” from a fifth-place finish in New Hampshire.
Returning to the Senate, Lieberman continued his increasingly lonely support for the Iraq War (alongside other heresies to liberalism, such as his support for private-school education vouchers in the District of Columbia). In 2006, Lieberman drew a wealthy primary challenger, Ned Lamont, who soon had a large antiwar following in Connecticut and nationally. As the campaign grew heated, President George W. Bush gave his Democratic war ally a deadly gift by embracing him and kissing his cheek after the State of the Union Address. This moment, memorialized as “The Kiss,” became central to the Lamont campaign’s claim that Lieberman had left his party behind, and the challenger narrowly won the primary. However, Lieberman ran against him in the general election as an independent, with significant back-channel encouragement from the Bush White House (which helped prevent any strong Republican candidacy). Lieberman won a fourth and final term in the Senate with mostly GOP and independent votes. He was publicly endorsed by Newt Gingrich and Rudy Giuliani, among others from what had been the enemy camp.
The 2006 repudiation by his party appeared to break something in Lieberman. This once-happiest of happy political warriors, incapable of holding a grudge, seemed bitter, or at the very least gravely offended, even as he remained in the Senate Democratic Caucus (albeit as formally independent). When his old friend and Iraq War ally John McCain ran for the Republican presidential nomination in 2008, Lieberman committed a partisan sin by endorsing him. His positioning between the two parties, however, still cost him dearly: McCain wanted to choose him as his running mate, before the Arizonan’s staff convinced him that Lieberman’s longtime pro-choice views and support for LGBTQ rights would lead to a convention revolt. The GOP nominee instead went with a different “high-risk, high-reward” choice: Sarah Palin.
After Barack Obama’s victory over Lieberman’s candidate, the new Democratic president needed every Democratic senator to enact the centerpiece of his agenda, the Affordable Care Act. He got Lieberman’s vote — but only after the senator, who represented many of the country’s major private-insurance companies, forced the elimination of the “public option” in the new system. It was a bitter pill for many progressives, who favored a more robust government role in health insurance than Obama had proposed.
By the time Lieberman chose to retire from the Senate in 2012, he was very near to being a man without a party, and he reflected that status by refusing to endorse either Obama or Mitt Romney that year. By then, he was already involved in the last great project of his political career, No Labels. He did, with some hesitation, endorse Hillary Clinton over Donald Trump in 2016. But his long odyssey away from the yoke of the Democratic Party had largely landed him in a nonpartisan limbo. Right up until his death, he was often the public face of No Labels, particularly after the group’s decision to sponsor a presidential ticket alienated many early supporters of its more quotidian efforts to encourage bipartisan “problem-solving” in Congress.
Some will view Lieberman as a victim of partisan polarization, and others as an anachronistic member of a pro-corporate, pro-war bipartisan elite who made polarization necessary. Personally, I will remember him as a politician who followed — sometimes courageously, sometimes foolishly — a path that made him blind to the singular extremism that one party has exhibited throughout the 21st century, a development he tried to ignore to his eventual marginalization. But for all his flaws, I have no doubt Joe Lieberman remained until his last breath committed to the task he often cited via the Hebrew term tikkun olam: repairing a broken world.
Schaller’s article is certainly provocative and his numbers are indeed “interesting.” In fact, one might say that this article shows the same attention to fact as his previous work. This is, after all, the same writer who stated on page 168 of his book “Whistling Past Dixe” that Mike Easley of North Carolina would face a tough re-election in 2008. Certainly true when one considers that re-election is impossible when Easley is term-limited from running again.
One of the interesting things about this article is that (different from his previous work) Schaller has expanded his target from the South (generally) and southern white males (particularly) to white males (generally). Of course, he does seem to make the assumption that most of “the down-home, blue-collar, white male voter” are Southern (or rural: he talks about Hillary Clinton dropping her G’s when speaking to southern or rural audiences).
Schaller does seem to still have his obsession with NASCAR — perhaps its a Schallersque code word for “southern.” I live in Charlotte, North Carolina (arguably the heart of NASCAR). I have never gone to a NASCAR race and have absolutely no interest in ever going to one.I do know this: the NASCAR marketing people equal or surpass any political demographic analysts around. That’s why I find it interesting that NASCAR moving from southern tracks to Schaller’s precious west and north.
In the Salon article, Schaller discusses Bob Graham’s sponsorship of a NASCAR team and its lack of effectiveness. He doesn’t mention Mark Warner’s NASCAR sponsorship in his governor’s race (although he does talk about it in other writings). He tries to have it both ways: NASCAR is the symbol of why Graham failed, but didn’t have anything to do with Warner’s success.
He doesn’t look at the difference in the nature of the races. Nobody knew who Mark Warner was. The use of NASCAR introduced him to Virginia’s voters as somebody who respected their history and didn’t mock who they are. Bob Graham was a known entity: NASCAR didn’t bring him anything.
But back to Schaller’s numbers (and I am going to accept his figures). Schaller says that 25% of Kerry’s vote in 2004 came from white males. Evidently because this percentage is significantly smaller than the percentage of white males who make up the total voters — paying attention to the total group is obviously a waste of time to Schaller.
But let us be honest here, Schaller is citing a crappy presidential campaign that failed to mobilize and convince a signifcant segment of voters. For that alone, Schaller believes the Democratic party should just ignore that segment in the future? Is it just me or is this muzzy minded in the extreme?
Schaller may have a point when it comes to presidential elections. The nature of the electoral college makes presidential electoral math significantly different from other races. Schaller — like most college professors — seems to think that presidential elections are all that matter.
He also seems to think (like a preponderance of Democrats) that policies are what motivates voters. And like most liberals he thinks that those policies should be driven top down. This leads to his assumption that going after the white male vote (southern or not) will result in the party endorsing policies that will alienate other groups(blacks, women, union members, etc) or at least impede efforts to grow party support among these groups.
The problem with Schaller’s views is that they are dead wrong. Schaller’s philosophy is the view of political elites (=policy wonks). While it is true that there are voters who vote based on a candiate’s stand on health care or civil rights or the death penalty, most voters make (1) their decision on whether to vote and (2) who to vote for based on their perception of the value a political candidate (or — more often — a political party) brings to them. These perceptions often are significantly different from those of the party elites.
Working on county or district levels, we find when we go out and actually canvass (not just lit drop) how different these perceptions are. We have worked with county party organizations — some in so-called bright red areas — to bring true constituent/party service to those voters who have not been voting. This has encouraged turnout and overwhelming support for Democrats. In other cases, we have successfuly switched voters that have been voting Republican because of wedge issues. How? By getting personal and showing them that Democrats understand the problems in their lives and will work to solve them.
The result has been signficant turn arounds in these areas and the turn arounds have included getting the votes of white, southern male (often rural) Democrats — and doing it without sacrificing the votes of other groups. This has helped the Democratic party take over county commissions, city council, mayor’s offices and legislatures.
These are the numbers that we find interesting. And we think that Nancy Pelosi and Harry Reid would agree with us. There are 29 southern white male members of the House of Representatives and three southern white male members of the Senate. Pelosi wouldn’t have been elected nor Reid Majority Leader without these men.
A lesson for those interested in a “Democratic Strategy” can be found in the 2006 election of one of those House members. Heath Shuler won not through support of conservatives or liberals, men or women, Caucasians or African-Americans. Heath Shuler won because Democrats in the North Carolina 11th District finally had enough of Charles Taylor and worked together — papering over significant disagreements on policy issues — to get out the vote for Shuer and maintain discipline to win.
We would think that consideration of a successful Democratic strategy might start there than with the provocation of “So Long, White Boy.”
Carl D. Clark
Jennifer Gullette
Southern Political Information Network
http://www.southernpolitics.net
Is it really necessary to note that the day after a presidential election the winner must spend the next four years actually attempting to run the country and that, for that task, winning a narrow victory on a sociologically polarized basis (the educated, minorities, single women etc. on the one hand, and a white-based “heartland” coalition on the other) is a recipe for political polarization and cultural conflict of Clinton impeachment-era dimentions (anyone remember the Militia movement of the 1990’s?).
It’s one thing to get stuck in a situation like that against one’s will, and quite another to positively seek and invite it. Mercenary “gun for hire” political consultants may not give a crap what happens the day after an election – to them, winning is indeed everything. But for anyone who visualizes their goal as achieving an enduring and stable democratic majority, throwing all the joe six-pack’s and their wives off the boat is downright nuts. Even if we didn’t need a decent chunk of their votes to win the election, which is highly dubious, we need a substantial number of them on our side to effectively govern.
Michael Moore made the same observation 10 years ago and it’s just as silly now as it was then.
The only reason to write off the white men who do vote Democrat is if you can gain more votes someplace else by doing so. As the article pointed out, 90+% African Americans already vote Democrat so we’re not likely to gain ground there. When it comes to other demographics, I’d be interested in hearing what issue (besided illegal immigration) people feel there is a real trade off and real ground to be gained by sacrificing the votes of white men and the votes of other groups.
More importantly, as 2000 taught us, the Presidential election is about the Electoral College and most of the non-white electorate lives in the proverbial “blue states” while the “red” and “purple” states are more heavilly white. Granted, population trends tell us that the Latino/Latina vote is growing quickly in the Southwest, but is gaining a better chance at winning Arizona and New Mexico really worth guaranteeing yourself loses in so much of the rest of the country?
I’m not arguing that Democrats should focus all their attention on the white male vote, I just think we should cautious around talk of ignoring any constituency.