Goring Al
Bill Bradley may force a Democratic primary fight after all
by Michael Crowley
That sputtering sound you've been hearing lately is nothing to be alarmed
about. It's just Al Gore's presidential campaign getting under way.
Poor Al -- he had six years to prepare for this campaign, and it's started out
miserably. He's been ridiculed for his careless claim that he created the
Internet. Every day he's faced with another poll showing that Americans find
him uninspiring and tedious. Newsweek even teased him for putting on
weight.
Now Gore's lone Democratic challenger, once written off as hopeless, is
showing signs of life. Often dismissed as too diffident, too ponderous, too
above-it-all to run an effective campaign, Bill Bradley -- the former New
Jersey senator and onetime New York Knicks star -- is getting under Al Gore's
skin. Barely visible until the past few weeks, Bradley is teasing Gore,
belittling his ideas, and letting everyone know there just might be a
Democratic primary fight after all.
Bradley "is showing more spunk," says Boston College political-science
professor Marc Landy. "I underestimated him. If you want to unseat the
presumptive nominee, you must be more aggressive. And he's showing some of
that."
There's no question that Gore is still the presumptive nominee. Whereas
Bradley has been running for a few months, Gore has been raising money and
locking up endorsements for years. Gore has the support of an incumbent
president and his party's biggest names. He even has history on his side: a
sitting vice president hasn't been denied his party's nomination since 1952.
And yet Bradley may be reminding people of why he was such a formidable
presence in American politics for two decades, a man who from his boyhood was
considered to be a possible future president. He is thoughtful, intelligent,
and deeply honest. His politics convey an authenticity and independence that's
hard to find in either party these days. And above all, he's in a position to
remind Democrats of their core principles at a time when the party's heir
apparent seems captivated by timid appeals to the suburban middle class.
(Another candidate who might have done that, progressive standard-bearer Jesse
Jackson, announced this week that he will not run in 2000.) Combine that with
Gore's middling popularity, his propensity for gaffes, and the sheer entropy of
the Clinton White House, and it's easy to doubt that Al's a sure thing. Says
one Democratic operative with high-level presidential campaign experience: "The
notion that it's wrapped up is premature."
This was supposed to be Al Gore's moment, the beginning of his stroll down the
red carpet to the Democratic nomination. Yet it's Bradley who's featured on the
cover of the New Republic this week and has received major profiles in
the Weekly Standard and the National Review -- all of which could
help get elite opinion and, perhaps, fundraising on his side.
Meanwhile, Bradley's managed to embarrass the vice president by casting
himself as the rural hick from Missouri to Gore's privileged son of Washington,
DC. Front-runners with big leads generally like to ignore their opponents. But
Gore was so annoyed that he took Bradley on -- and made himself look even more
foolish. Last week Gore defended his own country roots to the Des
Moines Register, saying of his father: "He taught me how to clean out hog
waste with a shovel and a hose. . . . He taught me how to plow a
steep hillside with a team of mules." The vice president, who as a child was
driven to his Washington prep school by limousine, was quickly ridiculed by
Republicans and the national media. The influential Register ran a
mocking editorial cartoon titled "American Gorethic," showing Gore next to
Tipper holding a pitchfork. The caption: "I was born with a manure shovel in my
hand, and spent my days behind a team of mules, and my nights inventing the
Internet."
But Bradley's better blows will come on matters of substance, not style, and
Gore has lately made things easy for his rival. In a series of media events
this month
designed to show Gore stepping out of Clinton's shadow, the vice president
tossed out a series of timid ideas -- his agenda for a more "livable world" --
that revealed how narrow a slice of the population his message is aimed at.
Decrying the effects of suburban sprawl, Gore vowed at one event to combat
traffic
congestion, promising to create a new 911-style phone number to provide drivers
with traffic updates. He unveiled a proposal to make prescription-drug
labels more readable. And he staged an event in favor of an airline passengers'
"bill of rights," to protect inconvenienced air commuters (an idea that wasn't
even his own).
It was a lame way to begin a presidential campaign, and the national media
treated it with something less than awe. "Forget the bite-sized morsels like
school uniforms that Mr. Clinton doled out four years ago," the New York
Times wrote. "To some, Mr. Gore is serving up crumbs."
This gives Bill Bradley a badly needed opportunity to distinguish himself.
Running as a firebrand far to Gore's left isn't a serious option for the
moderate Bradley, but painting himself as a principled man of substance is. And
that's what he has begun to do.
In a speech to Virginia Democrats last month, Bradley mocked the notion of
"rhetorical flourishes followed by tiny demonstration projects." And in Iowa
last weekend, he zinged "the idea of winning an election by simply
nickel-and-diming it."
Bradley is smart to hit Gore for his "litany of tiny little suggestions,"
Landy says. "This is what mayors and governors are for, but not what presidents
are for -- and Bradley's picked up on that."
In contrast to Gore's Tic-Tac agenda, Bradley is offering grand ideas about the
state of the nation. Like other candidates, he's still sketchy on details. But
he is gradually filling in the blanks. Complaining that "a robust economy isn't
an end in itself; it's a means to an end," Bradley has been painting a picture
of an America with unmet needs and unrealized potential.
Bradley, an opponent of Congress's 1996 welfare-reform law, says the "one in
four children who are in poverty" should be a top national priority. He reminds
us that 43 million Americans still lack health insurance, something the
current administration has discussed a lot less since the Clinton health-care
plan crashed and burned. He calls for a more cautious approach to Social
Security than the untested stock-market investments that Clinton and Gore
advocate. And he questions the way the Pentagon's $260 billion budget has
continued to swell long after the Cold War's end.
There's also a strong reformist bent to Bradley's candidacy that provides a
stark contrast to the suspect morality of the Clinton-Gore White House. When he
retired from the Senate in 1996, Bradley declared that "politics is broken,"
that neither political party spoke to Americans anymore. Now he is reminding
people that he isn't a hostage to the Washington machine, that he left the
Beltway by choice and not by electoral fiat. All of which undergirds Bradley's
call for sweeping campaign-finance reform, an issue the Republicans won't touch
and on which Gore -- he of the Buddhist nuns and the White House fundraising
calls -- has zero credibility.
"On the little stuff, he's trying to play to the left of Gore," says one key
Gore adviser. "On the big stuff, he's trying to be the outsider, a Jesse
Ventura or a Ross Perot."
"There is something to be said for Bradley's approach," says Clark Hubbard, an
assistant professor of political science at the University of New Hampshire,
"which is that during a campaign season, people want to hear about sweeping
ideas, and they want to hear new things. If Gore spends too much time talking
about the policies of the past and how they're going to be extended for four
more years, it might be a problem."
Does that make a Bradley upset realistic? Well, presidential politics are
famously combustible, and there are plenty of scenarios causing, as the Gore
aide puts it, "handwringing" at the White House.
There are the countless scandals and disgraces swirling around the Clinton
administration -- from shady campaign finance to Chinese espionage to memories
of Monica -- one of which could catch up with Gore. He might continue to shoot
himself in the foot -- this is, after all, the man who referred to a certain
Chicago Bulls superstar as "Michael Jackson." And God only knows what
intervention in Kosovo might bring.
Still, Hubbard's not the only one who believes that "barring any kind of major
disaster, Gore's going to be the nominee." It may be that it's too late for
Bradley to catch up with Gore's lead in fundraising and organization.
"Gore has been very deliberately and explicitly organizing a grassroots
campaign effort here for years," says Hubbard. "It doesn't seem that Bradley's
been doing any of that, and it's getting late in the game."
And even with a bolder, more expansive message, it won't be easy to seize the
debate from Gore. After all, small-idea politics won Bill Clinton the 1996
election, and helped to buoy his popularity even through an impeachment. "It's
been a winning formula for Clinton," notes a Democratic operative. "I assume
Clinton is his informal campaign manager, which is a huge asset."
Gore said last week that "the person who deserves to be our next president is
the one who understands how tired working parents are." A shameless pitch to
the soccer moms, yes -- but also a good line, one that could connect with
millions of Americans who might otherwise fail to see the relevance of a
presidential campaign in their own lives.
The danger for Bradley, by contrast, is that his big ideas will come across as
sanctimony. At a time of relative national prosperity, voters may not be
interested in having rhetorical spinach jammed down their throats. The true
test of Bradley's success will be whether he can borrow Clinton and Gore's
knack for slick packaging without selling short his principles. Bradley's ideas
may be bigger and better, but on some level, campaigns still come down to
bumper stickers.
Michael Crowley can be reached at mcrowley[a]phx.com.