Was there anything he could do to avoid this? Aside from not run? Probably not. But I would propose that, if he did go, Colin Powell’s crusade should be to rescue America from its poisoned political atmosphere. The best way to do this would be to run as an independent, since both existing parties have been fatally compromised by money, extremism and a dependence on the amoral technicians of modern political practice. If he must run as a Republican, he should try to stay as independent as possible. The key to the race flies in the face of recent GOP dogma: ideas are not important. Stature is everything.
At the heart of the current American political pathology is the notion that there is a great ideological divide. Portentous choices must be made. The future of the republic is at stake. The Republicans are revolutionaries; the Democrats are socialists. Utter nonsense, all of it. There is, in fact, a great national consensus on most issues. There is agreement that the budget deficit must be eliminated over the next several years. There is agreement that America must lead in the world, but not stick its nose in every local dispute. There is agreement that entitlement spending must be reformed before the baby boomers grow old; that the welfare system has fostered dependency rather than opportunity. There is a sense that the culture has grown too licentious, and materialistic, and needs an infusion of morals and dignity (without resorting to anything so crude as censorship). There is a sense that Americans need to take education more seriously. There is a sense that something is missing–spiritually, most likely. There is a desire to be bound together more closely, though not by any governmental master plan.
Already, Powell has done a great national service by confounding the extremist publicists and fund misers of the Republican fight. In two minutes with Barbara Walters, he demonstrated that the infamous “hot button” issues aren’t so hot: Most Americans–and most Republicans-believe that abortion is unfortunate, and should be actively discouraged, but not criminalized; most believe in gun control; most believe in strict punishment of criminality (including the death penalty). Most do not believe in making distinctions according to pigment, even when the intent is benign, but they acknowledge the wounds of race-and will tolerate an honest difference of opinion from a man who knows his mind.
But if ideas don’t matter, what does? Civility does. Ben Wattenberg nailed it with the title of his new book, “Values Matter Most.” (That the president of the United States would call Wattenberg late at night to armounce that he’d come to the same conclusion is testament only to the pathetic shamelessness of the incumbent.) The fundamental political mistakes of the ’90s have been sins of mendacity and pride. The Clintons believed they could get away with campaigning one way and governing another (and now seek to return .to campaign mode–and expect us to believe them). They sought trophies–historic credit for a “revolutionary” overhaul of the health-care system-rather than moving incrementally toward needed reform. Newt Gingrich did much the same: he misread the public disgust with the tired, corrupt Democratic Congress as support for a “revolution” that abandons the poor while protecting gun nuts and polluters.
And so, General: you have the stature, and the chance, to lance the national boil. If you were to run, you’d be besieged by fund raisers and technicians-people who “know” politics. They’d tell you to raise as much money as you can as fast as you can from whomever you can. They’d tell you to test your “message” with focus groups-not change it, mind you, just hone it a little-and to prepare an advertising strategy. They’d tell you where to go and whom to see and how to distinguish yourself from your opponents. A certain amount of this is unavoidable. But make no mistake: these people are the disease the public wants cured. They thrive on division and contention and the influence that money will buy. You thrive only to the extent that you transcend these phenomena. You’d have credibility only if you occasionally said things people didn’t want to hear (they’re hip enough to spot the phony who tries to please them all the time). You’d prosper if you said things like “I don’t know” or “I think Senator Lugar has a good idea about that,” and if you continued to sound, as you always have, like a fellow who didn’t need to consult a focus group to frame a phrase. You have a great opportunity to recivilize the public square. Your mission should be to alleviate this awful screeching.
