Monday, Mar. 21, 1988
Why Can't Jesse Be Nominated?
By Margaret B. Carlson
For a moment on Tuesday night it seemed as if the asterisk next to Jesse Jackson's name had been dabbed with Wite-Out. His win was impressive: a plurality of the Democratic popular vote. But as the evening wore on, commentators and candidates began talking about a two-man Democratic race, as if Jackson were the pace horse of the piece, running to show, not to win. Even the newly anointed third runner, Al Gore, referred to a race between himself and Dukakis, oblivious to the fact that if it were a two-man race, he would be out of it. When Jackson corrected him, Gore, who needs Jackson more than Jackson needs him, stammered that three-man is what he had meant to say all along.
The tacit assumption, often spoken but seldom explored, is that Jackson cannot be the nominee. Moreover, no one expects that even the vice- presidential slot will be seriously offered to Jackson, even though anyone else with his impressive series of wins and shows would have a clear claim to it.
Why? A major reason is the most discomforting one: Jackson's unique limitations are due in large part to race. Americans have shown themselves ready for blacks in the Cabinet but apparently not as President. Surveys have found that 15% to 20% of the American electorate admit that, simply because he was black, they would not vote for a black presidential candidate. The glass ceiling that keeps blacks and other minorities from getting beyond statewide office is double-glazed at the presidential level. Says Benjamin Hooks, executive director of the N.A.A.C.P., of Jackson's limits: "It's primarily race. The majority of people make no bones about it."
The TIME poll taken last Thursday found that 49% of registered voters say they would not vote Democratic if Jesse Jackson were on the ticket as the presidential nominee; 40% would not vote Democratic if he were on the ticket as the vice-presidential nominee. When respondents were asked why people would not vote for a Jackson ticket, 32% replied "his race," vs. 39% who cited his "lack of government experience" and 12% who pointed to his "position on the issues."
The true effect of racism in American politics is harder to gauge when the candidate is Jackson, who comes with his own particular negatives. "To talk about Jesse's limitations," says Memphis Public Service Director Greg Duckett, "you have to look beyond the man's color to his message and qualifications, which do not appeal to the mainstream." Jesse Jackson has enough liabilities just from being Jesse all these years. Early on, he earned the reputation of being a solo act, alienating even his colleagues in the civil rights movement. He prefers ad hoc decision making to planning, and leaves subordinates behind to tie up, or frequently not to tie up, loose ends.
He has never held an elective or governmental position, and critics say his major organizational effort, Operation PUSH, has produced more publicity than concrete accomplishments. In the past, government agencies have charged that Jackson's educational-motivation program, PUSH-EXCEL, misspent more than $1 million in federal grant money. In addition, Jackson has outraged Jews by calling New York City "Hymietown" and by preserving his links in 1984 to Louis Farrakhan, who called Judaism a "gutter religion." He has practiced diplomacy by wet kiss with some of the Third World's more controversial characters.
Indeed, if Jackson were white, his unconventional past might have forced him from contention long ago; if being black holds him back now, it has propelled him forward in the past over bumps that might have disabled others. His opponents have avoided criticizing him in hope of eventually inheriting his support. No white politician with Jackson's lack of experience could have come nearly so far. Yet there is a flip side to this argument: any white politician with Jackson's gifts would probably have been brought along by a well- positioned mentor or two, groomed for leadership by the institutions in which he would later assume power. Says Ann Lewis, a Jackson adviser and former - political director of the Democratic National Committee: "A white man of Jackson's age, talent, energy and interests would almost surely have gathered government credentials by this stage of his career."
Jackson has yet another complicating factor holding him back: his leftist ideology. His calls for economic justice and an all-out war on drugs have wide appeal. But proposals to cut military spending in favor of social programs, impose new taxes on business and the wealthy, and embark on a raft of expensive domestic programs appeal largely to those fed thin gruel during the Reagan gravy years and not to an electoral majority.
The racial and personal factors that will keep Jackson from winning the presidential nomination this year will almost certainly keep him from being the vice-presidential pick, despite a delegate count that would make any other candidate a natural. Michael Dukakis hemmed and hawed when asked about the prospect of Jackson on the ticket; Arkansas Governor Bill Clinton, a Jackson admirer, says Jackson would have a valid claim "only if his negatives decline."
What Jackson ends up getting out of the race, short of a spot on the ticket, could be what he privately says he wants: to play a part in his party's councils, to have a seat at the table when the door closes, to be respected and included. Whites who have never felt the sting of exclusion may find Jackson's quest somewhat baffling. He is not seeking the vice-presidential slot, because he has no intention of being the scapegoat for a Democratic loss.
Perhaps another black man could break the racial barrier more easily than Jackson, with all his other baggage. But Jackson is paving the way for someone to do so in the future. No one who has seen the white hands of farmers, factory workers and the elderly straining to touch Jackson can doubt that his campaign in 1988, more so than the one in 1984, will leave America less racist than it found it. Thus when the glass ceiling is broken, Jackson may have to settle for being the one on whose shoulders others stand to climb through.
With reporting by Michael Riley with Jackson