If I had a nickel for every time someone's mentioned "Kumbaya" in the last month I'd have ... well, a lotta nickels. Enough to buy a good punk or southern-rock CD to drown out that irritatingly placid folk song. Here's my answer to Democrats who think it will all work out fine: Beware the ghost of Hubert Humphrey.
There are two schools of thought right now. One says that the Democratic Party could become hopelessly divided by this year's harsh campaign. That perspective's being promoted by media pundits (the natural enemy of Democratic activists) and by partisans for one or another candidate. That's troubling, in that it could become a self-fulfilling prophecy. But the other school of thought, the one that says Democrats always come together once the primaries end, also endangers the party's chances. It fosters tolerance toward "win at any cost" tactics and provides ground cover for classically self-destructive Democratic behavior.
And if anybody knows how to self-destruct it's a Democrat.
Bloggers may not rule the world, but they do reflect an element of Democratic opinion. Many I value and respect are pushing the happy-ending-for-Dems storyline. Kevin Drum, one of the most informative and readable, writes: "... All of this (conflict) will be long forgotten within a few weeks of the primary's end." Big Tent Democrat, from the well-respected Talk Left site, adds: "Earth to pundits, this is the way primary battle ALWAYS are. ALWAYS. These pronouncements of an unbridgeable divide are simply ridiculous."
Duncan Black/Atrios says sarcastically: "Deep Thought - The existence of multiple candidates in the Democratic primary race means that the party is hopelessly splintered." And Kevin adds: "" always feel old and cranky when I say stuff like this, but we've seen rough, tough, mean primaries before on both sides."
The subtext of these comments seems to be, You handwringers are over-reacting. If you'd studied your party history you'd know that. So, whale away at each other, candidates and supporters. We'll all come together in the end.
Here's where some of the Kumbaya-is-inevitable advocates may be going wrong: Their historical analysis doesn't seem to extend much past 1992, when Paul Tsongas called Bill Clinton a "pander bear" and Clinton looked like he wanted to deck Jerry Brown during one debate. Sure, Democrats eventually united that year. But Hillary Clinton isn't Paul Tsongas, and neither is Barack Obama.
Nobody cares if Democratic politicians say nasty things about each other - unless they identify with their candidate. People may have liked Bill Clinton and Paul Tsongas, but those candidates weren't extensions of identity and the country wasn't in crisis. They could have punched each other black and blue and voters wouldn't have cared very much.
But this isn't 1992 - or 1988, or 1984. A better year for Democrats to remember is 1968. Lyndon Johnson, who led an unpopular war, was forced to resign after Eugene McCarthy ran a surprisingly strong second in New Hampshire. Soon the party found itself choosing between Humphrey - seen by many as a representative of "old style" politics - the insurgent but cerebral McCarthy, and Bobby Kennedy (whose candidacy many McCarthy supporters initially viewed as a betrayal.)
Humphrey, McCarthy, and Kennedy were viewed by their advocates as more than just politicians. Supporters saw them as extensions of themselves, a reflection of their own personalities, values, and beliefs. Humphrey seemed to be the avatar of traditional Democratic experience (and courage, too, back when he faced down the Dixiecrats and Strom Thurmond at a 1948 convention. That was before the young activists' time, giving some older Democrats one more reason to be irritated with them.)
McCarthy's dedication to peace and his penchant for writing poetry appealed to college students who couldn't vote back then, but who could volunteer for ground campaigns. They helped him wound Johnson in New Hampshire. Bobby's youth, his passion for civil rights and against war, and even his longish hair mattered to other politically inclined kids (including this then 13-year-old writer.) Humphrey's victory, which was seen in part as the result of an unfair fate, left the party divided and disillusioned.
Humphrey misread the political atmosphere at first and positioned himself as a centrist, speaking dismissively of students and defending the war. His party's base failed to rally for his candidacy. He only gained significant ground in the last couple weeks before the election, when he started speaking out more forcefully against the Vietnam War. It was too little, too late. His opponent had used Humphrey's initial centrism to position himself as the candidate of real change who was best suited to end the war.
That opponent's name, of course, was Richard Nixon.
Now we have Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama. Hillary's supporters see her as a soldier of experience challenged by naive idealists. Many take offense at the idea that her life experience (and by inference theirs) is being undervalued. On the gender side, many of her supporters often see sexism in real or perceived slights. Some of those slights haven proven illusory, as in the "debate snub." But there is genuine sexism in America, much of it invisible to us males. Obama supporters ignore it at their own peril.
Now some Clinton supporters, like this one, are saying they won't vote for Obama under any circumstances. That's Democratic self-destructiveness in its purest form.
Then there's Obama, who is seen by his supporters as representing a new wave of hope and optimism in Washington. A number of his potential backers, especially the young, won't be galvanized into action by a Clinton candidacy, for reasons this high schooler's essay expresses eloquently. Many Obama supporters see him as a reformer against the old politics, including old-school Democratic politics. To them he's a Kennedy/McCarthy figure running against a Johnson/Humphrey type. Gutter attacks on Obama create profound - and, I would argue, lasting - resentments against those who make them or condone them.
The nastier the primary fight, the less likely it is that Democrats will have the volunteers, contributors, and enthusiasm needed to drive a successful get-out-the-vote effort in November. And the name of the game is get-out-the vote.
There's yet another historical precedent for Democrats to worry about: 1972. George McGovern won that year, but there was resentment over the apportionment of delegates. This time it was the party stalwarts and insiders who were angry and disaffected, not the activist base. But the reaction was the same: They provided McGovern with no more than tepid support, contributing to his landslide defeat.
If Democrats don't want a replay of the Humphrey or McGovern races they better dial down the animosity, stay away from gamesmanship with party rules, and start thinking strategically: Who can carry the message most effectively? Who will unite the party and draw moderate independents? Who will mobilize current and future Democrats as activists? Whose team fights clean and fair, with dignity and class? Cheap-shot artists from any camp need not apply. Otherwise the party may fail to rally itself for what will inevitably be a tough fight in November, no matter what the pundits say.
Doomsaying? Listen: I hope Kevin and the others are right and I'm wrong. Whoever the nominee is, I hope the Democrats all come together in five months and sing - well, not that song, but something uplifting and catchy. If I'm wrong, no harm done. But if they're wrong, they're providing a rationale for continuing the bitter and divisive infighting that may just lead the Democrats to defeat.