Now in the Center Ring, Demo Unity

‘They bite their tongues in their determination to present a united front in November.’

One of the least noticed factors in the recent Democratic resurgence has been the apparent ease with which President Clinton’s liberal allies in the House and Senate have been willing to set aside their own political preferences in order to help the party present a rare united front.

For years, columnists and comedians have feasted on the Democrats’ reputation for division. “I don’t belong to any organized political party,” the saying went: “I’m a Democrat.” Democrats seemed to be formed of the unlikeliest of coalitions: liberal Northerners, conservative Southerners, organized labor, black activists, feminists, blue-collar Catholics, Jewish professionals, intellectuals, Cold Warriors and devoted pacifists. This was the party that prosecuted the Vietnam War and the party that marched against it. If you wanted to get a good political fight going, no Republicans were needed: On almost every issue, Democrats were both the majority and the minority.

Today, as Bill Clinton flips and flops, his Democrats waffle with him. The president opposes tax cuts; Democrats in Congress agree. The president signs off on a cut in the gasoline tax--even becomes its champion--and the Democrats in Congress agree. Whatever the issue--eliminating federal agencies, going along with restrictions on gay marriages, agreeing to a balanced budget in seven years--the chronology is the same: Republicans take the lead, Clinton squeaks out a principled protest, Clinton caves, Clinton begins to champion the position he had previously opposed and through it all congressional Democrats keep their teeth clenched and their voices silent.

This, of course, is the result of Republicans doing the unthinkable. Democrats were aware that Republicans would sometimes hold the White House; in fact, Democrats had won the presidency only twice since Barry Goldwater’s defeat 32 years ago. But what did it matter? Despite the media’s infatuation with the presidency, the real power in American government is in Congress. Ronald Reagan got tagged with the blame for the current astronomical deficit because no matter how much he railed against Big Government and insisted on cutting domestic programs to offset the military buildup he felt the country needed, Democrats in Congress controlled the national purse strings and domestic spending continued. Democrats understood that the Constitution made Congress, not the presidency, the first branch of government, and so long as they held the House and Senate, they could tolerate watching Republicans give the annual state of the union speech.

But two years ago, Republicans won the victory that counted: They took Congress away from the Democrats. Suddenly Democrats found out what it was like to be in the minority, with other people setting the agenda and the terms of debate. They vowed not to let it happen again, and today they bite their tongues in their determination to present a united front in November. So, while liberals like Dave Bonior and Dick Gephardt concentrate their fire on Newt Gingrich and the Republicans, it is the GOP that suddenly appears to be the party of strange bedfellows. The public watches as Republicans battle with one another over issues of environmental regulation, the minimum wage, abortion and tax structure. Now it is the Republicans--the party of both Jack Kemp and Pat Buchanan--that appear stitched together out of incompatible parts.

One should not casually dismiss the magnitude of the Clinton achievement in pulling his troops together. Clinton is not much liked by his fellow Democrats; Reagan, on the other hand, was loved by Republicans. But when Reagan reluctantly signed off on a tax increase, many of his closest allies in Congress refused to go along. The president and congressional Republicans fought openly and in the end only the overwhelming support of Democrats allowed Reagan a narrow victory. When George Bush became president, the divisions continued. When Bush decided he had to renege on his “read my lips” no-new-tax pledge, most congressional Republicans refused to join him; in fact, most of the elected Republican leadership in the House opposed him.

While most voters tend to be non-ideological, people who seek and hold public office generally have strongly held political views. Certainly that is true of many House and Senate Democrats, who have long been on the cutting edge of left-leaning politics. That they are willing to keep silent in order to increase the chances of victory in November is a remarkable achievement of political will.