For Governor Bill Richardson, the nastiness had simply gone on too long. His pre-Easter endorsement of Barack Obama ten days ago seemed to Richardson to be the right thing to do in this long, protracted battle, and certainly the first of many important and badly needed steps toward intra-party healing.
But then came the insults and the vitriolic words from several Clinton operatives. James Carville, speaking to a New York Times reporter, had unceremoniously compared Richardson's endorsement of Obama to one of the greatest historical betrayals. "It came right around the anniversary of the day when Judas sold out for 20 pieces of silver," Carville said, "so I think the timing is appropriate, if ironic."
Then, over the course of the next few days as a handful of other well-placed and well-known super delegates began to tilt openly in favor of Obama, the catapulting of insults and the slinging of jabs became even fiercer. There were more accusations of sell-outs and backroom deals, more barbs about treacherous and disloyal behavior--many of these spitballs aimed squarely at the back of Richardson's head. Clinton spin masters were telling reporters that Richardson owed his very career in politics to the Clintons.
But the final insult for Richardson came when it was widely reported that ex-president Bill Clinton himself had reacted angrily during a small meeting of California Democrats and super delegates, telling them that he had received Richardson's assurance that he would stick with the Clintons and not back Obama. With his face the color of a south Alabama tomato and his finger wagging, the former President said of Richardson, according to the San Francisco Chronicle, "five times he promised me...five times...to my face."
Richardson, his normally jovial manner now slightly grim, was compelled to go on the TV news circuit on Wednesday to deny that he had ever made any such promise to either of the Clintons. Speaking to CNN reporter John King, Richardson was adamant: there were no deals made with Obama, and there was no political sell-out. His endorsement of the Illinois Senator was one made from long, careful consideration and a decision that was difficult but necessary. Richardson also denied ever meeting with Bill Clinton five times, stating that the only time they got together this year was on the weekend of the Super Bowl, when they watched the game together. "We made it very clear to him," Richardson told King, "that he shouldn't expect an endorsement after that meeting."
"He's probably upset," Richardson said of Bill Clinton, "and I understand that, because this is a tough game. But we've got to get over it. We've got to get positive."
Moreover, Richardson said, the longer these two Democrats spend their time attacking each other and scorching the political landscape, the greater John McCain's chances are in November. While Democrats waste time and resources tearing each other to shreds, John McCain is the one traveling around the country engaged in statesmanlike behavior.
That an elected official as widely respected as Bill Richardson felt compelled to engage in this sort of self-defense was a clear indication of the harshness of this fight.
Indeed, for many Democrats and many more idealistic liberals, this internal party struggle--once regarded as a historic opportunity to change America and a chance to break through centuries old barriers--has devolved into nothing more than an old fashioned political slugfest. The once noble defining moment has turned into cheap, self-serving bickering--the sort of thing that is gaining uneasy but frequent comparisons to the self-destructive pattern of previous Democratic contests. One Democratic friend who only months ago foresaw a stunning, golden victory in November now fears that "the convention in Denver will turn into another 1968...we'll tear ourselves to pieces live on TV."
Some top Democrats are worrying openly that John McCain's chances grow stronger the longer this fight goes on. There is no doubt that some of the harsh words exchanged by Obama and Clinton will be easily recycled and thrown back at the eventual nominee in the form of attack ads, and some analysts say the this blowback will be well-deserved--the just desserts for so much intramural eye-gouging and back- biting. McCain--operating on relatively small cash expenses--is already campaigning with modest but effective results across the country, talking to foreign policy groups, making stump speeches to larger crowds, and slowly but surely building his bridgehead to November. With each passing week his polls numbers inch north in theoretical match-ups with either Democrat. McCain can play conservative football and still gain yardage.
Worse still for Democrats, new polls indicate that the rift has grown so bitter that many Democrats will stay home and not vote at all in November. Even more ominously, some Clinton and Obama partisans say they will vote for McCain if the nominee is the other candidate, a pretty shocking development for a party that once held the promise of great advantage going into this election cycle. With the recent announcement that Ralph Nader is again seriously considering his own third party presidential bid, there is genuine fear that Democrats in general, and liberals in particular, will split themselves badly, making a McCain victory that much easier come November.
Piling plot twist upon plot twist, Republicans and conservatives are steadily coalescing--albeit some right-wingers grudgingly--behind the McCain candidacy. The thought of millions of voters in the GOP base staying home because of dissatisfaction with McCain was giving Democrats even more reason to be optimistic about November. Four months ago the GOP race was a shambles--a fractured, unfocused contest with no clear front-runner and no rallying point for troops. Now the strategic field has reversed, and it is the Democrats who face fragmentation, or at least a massive irreparable fissure.
Still, it is hard to see how this Democratic battle between the New Party and the Old Party can be resolved peacefully prior to the convention. Already, reporters and analysts are referring to the next three or four contests as "the next Super Tuesdays." Tracking polls are showing a closer race in Pennsylvania than had previously been imagined. Once regarded as safe Hillary country, Obama is putting stress on the Clinton team by spending more cash in the Keystone State and substantially closing that gap. (Of course, we've seen this before, and Clinton usually prevails when the precincts open for voters on Tuesday: for a period of three or four days it looked as if Obama might steal Texas from Clinton, but reality settled in on primary day just as it did in Ohio).
The rift between the two family lines--the New Reformers versus the Old Traditionalists--has always been deep, but because of the current relative parity between these two factions, both sides can taste victory just as both sides grow increasingly bitter at the thought of defeat. This heightens the stress and the volatility. Add to the mix the long stretch between the last contest and Pennsylvania--what has been frequently called the Silly Season--and you have too many spin operatives in collaboration with too many reporters with too much time on their hands. Things are simply bound to get nasty.
Road Show is published each week by Thursday Review publications, copyright 2008