The Political Interest

By Michael Kramer

Jealousy, perhaps the oldest and certainly the most pernicious of human emotions, is always fascinating to behold, the more so in politics, where ambition invariably trumps loyalty, and old grudges are carried to the grave. In general in recent years Republicans have held their egos in check -- with the notable exception of the far right, which abhors all who fail to slavishly toe its line. Most mainstreamers, however, follow the G.O.P.'S "11th Commandment" ("Republicans shall not speak ill of other Republicans") and only rarely strike at their own, as Bob Dole did recently when he dissented from the Bush campaign's anti-Perot blitz. While Dole's stance was unwelcome, there was only the slightest there-he-goes-again headshaking at the White House, for everyone knows that Dole is a special case. He has never recovered from losing the 1988 Republican nomination to Bush, and his leadership position in the Senate demands that he be treated gingerly. And besides, no Bushie really had the stomach to attack Dole for telling the truth, which is that the nation's educationally challenged Vice President was a bit wide of the mark when he charged that Ross as Boss would destroy the Constitution (although, come to think of it, the hapless Quayle's insistence on adding an e to potato may have been due to his having immersed himself in the great document's archaic 18th century spelling).

But Dole's mild correction was a sideshow. As usual, it was the Democrats, past masters of the art of party perfidy, who went squarely about the task of nicking their embattled nominee. Who exactly was leading the charge? Why, those who even a casual observer could have predicted would most warm to their indictments, Jesse Jackson and Mario Cuomo, two men who have signaled repeatedly that if they themselves cannot be President, they will not sleep well if another Democrat captures the prize.

Poor Bill Clinton. His sin is that he wants to win and that he understands that victory requires his adopting centrist positions. Since the beginning of his tortured campaign, Clinton has pushed policies that are anathema to traditional Democratic liberalism -- and often before audiences ill disposed to hear his message. Some have argued that in a three-way race he should retreat to the Democrats' base of minorities and liberals. Clinton's view is contrary and is the product of two assumptions -- his belief that Perot will fade, which would leave him to contest the crucial middle with Bush, and his knowledge that even if Perot's unprecedented strut continues unabated there simply are not enough core Democratic votes to win.

In support of this electoral analysis, Clinton has continued his walk away from some long-standing Democratic verities. Many of his prescriptions have caused Jackson and Cuomo to grumble, but they saved their full-throated ire for Clinton's rebuke of Sister Souljah. Common decency dictates that those seeking high office be willing to condemn the rap singer's racist ravings, but Jackson perceived a "character flaw" in Clinton's "sneak attack" on Souljah at an "emergency" meeting of Jackson's "rainbow coalition." Speaking of himself in the third person (an affectation common to megalomaniacs), Jackson denounced Clinton's courage as a "Machiavellian maneuver" designed "purely to appeal to conservative whites by containing Jackson and isolating Jackson." So Jackson is flirting with Perot and also promises a huge rally at the Democratic Convention in July, where he may even encourage his nomination for Vice President, three moves he would of course deny taking in order to "contain or isolate" Clinton.

To let tempers cool and to aid Clinton's quest for white middle-class votes, those Democrats truly interested in recapturing the White House have quite simply shut up. But not Mario. The New York Governor, who only three weeks ago equated Clinton with Bush as he chided both candidates for being "unspecific" (despite the fact that the Democrats have never had a nominee so willing to enunciate programmatic solutions), last Wednesday sought to keep the flap alive by suggesting a Sister Souljah summit at which Jackson, Clinton and Souljah would "reconcile the situation" for "the sake of the country." Someone "has to sit them down," said the slam-dunking Cuomo, who quickly feigned lack of heft for the mediator's job. "I don't have the stature or the role," said Cuomo, who governs a state with the largest number of people outside Israel who understand the word chutzpah. "I'm just one of 50 Governors. I'm one of many, many Democrats . . . I don't have any special credentials." Except as a spoilsport, that is.

I have a dream (or is it a nightmare?). The year is 1996, and the Democrats, weary of the nonstop sniping from their twin 800-lb. gorillas, finally give in and nominate their all-egoist ticket. It is Jackson-Cuomo or Cuomo-Jackson. Naturally, the two are unwilling and unable to decide which of them should be at the top of the ticket. They bicker constantly, each with his own polls proving that he deserves to be his party's standard bearer. They ignore the opposition and battle to the end, to Jan. 20, 1997, when they are spied jockeying for position in the audience to watch the inauguration of President Quayle.