By George Will
Saturday, January 02, 2016
Soon, voters will have the opportunity and impertinence
to insert themselves into the 2016 presidential conversation, which thus far
has been the preoccupation of journalists and other abnormal people. The voting
will begin in Iowa, thanks to Marie Jahn.
When, after 38 years as recorder for Plymouth County in
northwest Iowa, Jahn decided to retire in February 1975, local Democrats
decided to throw her a party. When it came to attracting a speaker, the best
they could entice from their party’s national ranks was a former one-term
governor of Georgia. According to Steven Hayward in The Age of Reagan: The Fall of the Old Liberal Order:
Carter’s obscurity was confirmed when he appeared on the syndicated TV
game show What’s My Line? He stumped
the panel, which not only didn’t recognize him, but failed to guess he was a
state governor. When pollster George Gallup drew up a list of 38 potential
Democratic presidential candidates in 1975, Carter’s name was not on the list.
Eleven months after the fete for Jahn, Jimmy Carter
finished second in the hitherto obscure Iowa caucuses, behind “undecided.” This
semi-triumph became his springboard to Olympus. The caucuses would never again
be obscure. The moral of this cautionary tale is that voters can be startlingly
disruptive.
Perhaps they are somewhat less likely to be so today.
Surprises might be more difficult to spring now that there is saturation
journalism about presidential campaigns that are in high gear a year before the
first votes are cast.
But American politics often has had quirky aspects, as
historian Morton Keller demonstrates in his America’s
Three Regimes: A New Political History (2007). The Republican party, Keller
says, became known as the Grand Old Party in the 1880s, when it was about 25
years young. In 1840, when William Henry Harrison, scion of wealthy Virginia
planters, ran for president as the hardscrabble “log cabin and hard cider
candidate,” the resulting paraphernalia included glass log cabins containing
whiskey from Pittsburgh’s E. C. Booz distillery, which enriched American slang.
The Era of Good Feelings, the decade after 1815, was, Keller says, more an Era
of No Feelings: In the 1820 presidential election, Richmond’s 12,000 residents
produced 17 votes. Only 568 of Baltimore’s 63,000 residents voted. Nine percent
of those eligible in New Jersey voted. No one will ever call 2016 part of an
Era of Good Feelings. If, however, Donald Trump’s vitriol pumps up the number
of voters, this will at least lay to rest the canard that high voter turnout is
a sign of social health.
Given the pandemic distaste for today’s politics, it is
consoling to remember that things change. In the late 19th century, Robert
Ingersoll, a.k.a. “The Great Agnostic,” was the nation’s most outspoken atheist
and a leading Republican, a combination unlikely today. In the third decade of
the 20th century, even a politician with national aspirations could be proudly
parochial: The Democrats’ 1928 presidential nominee, New York governor Al
Smith, reportedly said he would rather be a lamppost on Park Row than the
governor of California, and when asked his thoughts about the problems of
states west of the Mississippi, he supposedly replied, “What are the states west of the Mississippi?”
In 1952, the Democratic presidential nominee, Adlai Stevenson, dismayed by the
mainstream media’s conservatism, fretted about “a one-party press in a
two-party country.”
Today, there is a sense in which there are few two-party
states. In the presidential election 40 years ago, Carter against President
Gerald Ford, 20 states were won by five points or less, including the six most
populous states: California, New York, Pennsylvania, Texas, Illinois, Ohio.
(Note the absence of Florida, now the third-most populous state.) In 2012, just
four states were decided by five points or less (North Carolina, Florida, Ohio,
Virginia). Today, Larry J. Sabato, Kyle Kondik, and Geoffrey Skelley of the
University of Virginia’s Center for Politics identify just seven states they
consider “super-swingy”: Colorado, Florida, Nevada, Ohio, and Virginia, all of
which voted for George W. Bush and Barack Obama twice, and Iowa and New
Hampshire, which have voted Democratic in three of the last four elections.
But, again, things change. “One session of the
Connecticut Legislature in the 1790s,” Keller writes, “devoted itself primarily
to imposing a tax on dogs. The next session was given over to discussing
whether or not to remove that levy.” This was, of course, long ago, before government
became ambitious, caring, and reviled.
No comments:
Post a Comment