TO: Democratic Candidates for President
FROM: Al From and Bruce Reed
CC: John McCain
SUBJECT: Running for President
Congratulations on your decision to run for president. If you're lucky,
you might be the first senator in your row to get into the race.
You now hold the future of the Democratic Party -- and the country -- in
your hands. The mountain you have to climb is steep and treacherous, but
truth is on your side. As Trent Lott might say, "If you're elected,
America wouldn't have all these problems!"
Of course, once you've made up your mind to enter the race, the biggest
question on your mind is probably the same one Bill Clinton asked in 1991
after jumping in: "Now what?"
Here are some unsolicited suggestions about how to make sure the crazy
journey you've just begun turns out well for you and for the country....
Since Al Gore and Tom Daschle decided not to run, the conventional wisdom
is that there is no front-runner in the Democratic race. That's not quite
true. The real front-runner, fresh off its triumph in the midterms, is
the Democratic Party's losing image. Your most formidable opponent isn't
President Bush or your fellow contestants for the nomination. Your real
enemy is the ghost of Democrats past.
Let's not forget: Democrats
were responsible for most of the social and economic progress of the 20th
century. In the 1990s, Democratic ideas and leadership helped restore
America's confidence and prosperity at home and helped spread peace throughout
the world.
But politics isn't always fair. The doubts Democrats worked so hard to
dispel in the 1990s -- that they loved government and taxes too much,
and cared about security and values too little -- have returned. The
pounding Democrats took in the 2002 elections made painfully clear that
no Democratic nominee can beat Bush without first changing the face of
the Democratic Party.
In other words, many Americans already have questions about your character
even before they've heard your name. From the outset, they will view you
through the prism of Democrats who have run before. They will not just
be taking the measure of where you stand, they will be wondering what
you're made of.
You have no time to waste in proving you're your own man, not your party's.
The Bush team will raise and spend $200 million over the next 18 months
to dredge up every bad Democratic stereotype. With each chance you get,
you have to start right away running against that stereotype.
If you want to win the presidency in 2004, you have to redefine the Democratic
Party in 2003.
No party
has ever needed definition, or redefinition, more than the Democratic
Party today. Just before the midterm elections, the Gallup Poll found
that by 60 points, Americans believed Republicans would do a better job
than Democrats on their top priorities -- national security and the
fight against terrorism.
But party perceptions are a wonderful foil for an insurgent candidate
looking to define himself. Clinton won as a different kind of Democrat
in 1992. George W. Bush stole a page from the New Democratic playbook
and won in 2000 by promising to be a different kind of Republican.
Presidential elections are the one window every four years that our country
has to define itself. In the same way, primaries are the one window a
party has to define itself. The rest of the time, any party is a cacophony
of voices and a jumble of interests. But from the moment it chooses a
nominee until the election is over -- or its nominee magically becomes
president -- a party has one voice and one mission. We pray it will
be a worthy one.
You can't afford to be subtle about defying the Democratic stereotype.
As Al Gore discovered in 2000, you can put forward a New Democrat policy
agenda and Republicans will still try to put you in an Old Democrat lockbox.
Every campaign needs its "Sister Souljah" moment to demonstrate
that the candidate will speak truth to power -- and to make sure the
public sits up and takes notice.
Here's the good news: If you work at it, the ghost of Democrats past
is a front-runner you can beat. You're already off to a good start. Last
November, we urged Democrats to put security first and turn up the heat
on the Bush administration for doing too little to help secure the front
lines here at home. By the end of December, a front-page story in The
New York Times reported, "Democratic contenders for president
are beginning to challenge President Bush's record on terrorism."
The ghost is already on the run.
Former President Clinton, the only Democrat in half a century to succeed
at it twice, says that running for president is like a job interview with
the American people: You have to give them a reason to hire you and a
reason to fire the other guy.
We'll get to the firing part in a moment, because it's important. But
the first part -- why we should hire you -- is the greater and more
urgent challenge. You will not win, nor will you deserve to, unless you
spell out in specific terms where you want to take the country. The American
people want to know what you'll do for them, what you'll ask of them,
and whether you have what it takes to make your vision come true for them.
As Clinton said in his announcement speech, "We don't need another
president who doesn't know what he wants to do for America."
Roger Mudd did every prospective presidential candidate an enormous favor
in 1980 when he asked Ted Kennedy the immortal question, "Why are
you running?" Years later, it's remarkable how many candidates still
stumble over the answer. The explanation is simple and disturbing: Most
people don't run for president because of all the things they want to
do for the country. They run because it's the biggest job on earth and
they think they might win.
By now, scores of old Democratic hands have urged you to start worshipping
that holy trinity of political campaigns: money, organization, and the
fickle god, "message." All are good to have, and no campaign
will get far without them, but they're just the grease of campaigns. Ideas
and purpose are the engine.
The great, underrated virtue of our presidential process is that, unlike
every other political contest, presidential elections always matter and
almost always are about something. House, Senate, and gubernatorial races
rarely change the course of history. Presidential races usually do. As
a result, they are perhaps the only time most voters take a good, long
look at the lasting implications of their decision.
In other words, no matter how often they grumble about choosing between
the lesser of two evils, Americans take the decision about their president
very seriously -- and so should you. You have to win people's hearts
and minds, earn their respect, and keep their trust. It is not enough
to run against the way things are. They're not hiring you to tell them
about America's problems. They're hiring you to solve them.
Here again, you have to overcome a bum Democratic rap. In the November
2002 Gallup Poll, 60 percent of Americans said Republicans had a clear
plan for America's future. Only 30 percent thought Democrats did. That
was a devastating setback for a party whose mission is to solve problems.
The biggest favor you can do for yourself, your fellow Democrats, and
the country is to spend the coming year doing your level best in the Idea
Primary.
1. Make America safe again by shaking up the intelligence bureaucracy,
hardening targets, and beefing up local law enforcement.
2. Restore economic growth by putting the government's house in order,
keeping the private sector honest, opening new markets, and expanding
opportunity for all, not granting special favors for the privileged few.
3. Promote democratic capitalism and corporate responsibility to make
sure those who do the work and play by the rules, not just those at the
top, share the benefits of growth.
4. Ask more Americans to serve their country in military and national
service and civil defense, and give more young people the chance to earn
their way through college.
5. Reform the tax code to reward work, family, and opportunity instead
of wealth and privilege.
6. Make sure every working American has the same kind of access to health
care as members of Congress.
7. Give parents more choices so they can balance work and family, by
expanding family leave and restoring a culture that puts family first.
8. Demand more from teachers and reward them for it.
9. Make sure every child has the love and support of two parents by making
parental responsibility a way of life, not an option, and require absent
parents who owe child support to go to work to pay it off.
10. Take back control of America's destiny with an energy plan to pioneer
new energy-efficient technologies and develop a 50-mpg SUV.
Whatever you put on your list, it's important to aim high and be specific.
The only sane reason to run for president is a burning desire to do a
lot with the office. If you have a clear idea where you want to take the
country, you can overcome any political odds. If you don't, you won't
win, and you wouldn't get far in the job even if you did. This has always
been the case, and more so since 9/11. Now more than ever, the one reason
to seek the presidency, and the only way to win it, is to unite people
behind a cause that is larger than your candidacy.
The Idea Primary is a dress rehearsal for the big job interview with
the American people in the fall of 2004. If you're lucky enough to make
it that far, you can be sure you won't beat President Bush on the basis
of money (his campaign will be able to print it), organization (Republicans
finally learned how), or tactics (the current White House's trademark).
The power of your ideas, the force of your values, and the strength of
your purpose are the only weapons the mighty Death Star might not survive.
Candidates devote too little time to the first part of the job interview:
why we should hire them, and they spill far too many words, with too little
impact, on the second: why to fire the incumbent. Don't be too despondent
over the president's poll ratings. They're a good reminder of a universal
truth: Incumbent presidents are almost always very hard to beat. Of the
17 presidents in the last century, only four (Taft, Hoover, Carter, and
the first Bush) lost after one full term, each under pretty miserable
circumstances.
That's why it's so important for anyone hoping to unseat Bush to make
the right case. You will never convince America to dislike the man, and
you shouldn't begrudge him his few successes. You're not trying to tell
Americans they were wrong to rally behind their president when the nation
went to war. Elections are never about the past; they're about the future.
You should thank the president for his service, but raise serious, legitimate
doubts about keeping him around any longer.
For all Bush's popularity, such doubts are not far beneath the surface.
Americans aren't at all sure the country is moving in the right direction.
According to a January 2003 Gallup Poll, 56 percent of Americans are dissatisfied
with the way things are going in the United States. They're frightened
about whether their government has done enough to protect them from another
terrorist attack. They're deeply worried about the economy -- whether
their incomes will start going up again or they'll ever recover enough
savings to retire. They fear that the country's values are out of whack,
and they're tired of working harder and making less, while too many corporate
leaders take their money and run.
Moreover, the American people still have deep misgivings about the Bush
administration. They know the president cares a lot more about corporations
and the wealthy than he does about people like them. They know the Bush
White House will always side with business over any competing interest,
from the environment to health care to the family. They don't believe
the president has changed the tone in Washington. They respect the president's
resolve after 9/11, but still wonder if he's out of his depth at home
and abroad.
In short, Americans are no fools: They know this president's strengths
and recognize his weaknesses. Even though Democrats have been too meek
in making the case against him, the jury on George W. Bush is still out.
What kind of evidence will Americans find persuasive? A Democratic candidate's
first instinct may be to bombard the voters with hot rhetoric and dry
facts: distribution tables, deficit projections, before-and-after pictures
of the baseline for Head Start. All those arguments have merit, but they
do more to rile up the converted than to change enough minds to make a
difference in the election. Americans are understandably wary of statistics
and expert testimony. Unless you weave them together to tell a coherent
story, voters will assume you're just picking and choosing to suit your
interests -- and they'll be right.
The far more objective and credible way to attack Bush and the Republicans
is not to hold them to the Democratic Party's standards, but to hold them
to the standards they set for themselves. The administration will spend
the next two years insisting that the president has kept his promises.
Your job is to show that in the ways that matter, he has not.
President Bush promised to change the tone in Washington, but instead
has exploited Americans' fears to his political benefit. He promised to
unite the country, but his agenda is designed to divide us. He promised
to restore integrity to the Oval Office, but all too often he has sided
with special interests instead of the nation's long-term interest. He
promised to restore responsibility in our country, but he has spurned
it in his budget and failed to demand it from his cronies. He promised
to be a different kind of Republican, but he can't say no to his party's
right-wing base. He promised a new era of compassionate conservatism,
but he has pursued an economic plan that offers compassion only to those
who need it least, and goes against the great conservative tradition of
insisting that government should not give away money it does not have.
You don't have to abandon your policy arguments. But the stakes are higher
and the terms are much different in the wake of 9/11. The 2004 election
will be about our values, not our lockboxes. To win that debate, you need
to make a moral critique of the Bush administration, not just a programmatic
one.
It is too early to know whether the president's performance and the country's
condition will provide a big enough opening for a Democrat to win. But
we already know this much: Any Democrat will have to do almost everything
right to unseat a sitting president and a savvy White House. That means
dodging the four big boulders that crush almost every Democratic candidacy:
Members of Congress
don't elect presidents; voters do. By definition, beating an incumbent
president requires tapping into popular discontent with Washington. That
will never happen if you try to wage this campaign from one end of Pennsylvania
Avenue against the other.
That's a particular challenge this time around, when most of the candidates
work on Capitol Hill. In the past 220 years, only two sitting senators
have been elected president. We've sent more governors than that to the
White House in the past two decades.
But resume is not destiny: The real handicap is not a congressional
background, it's a congressional mindset. Look at the recent presidential
bids of two sitting senators, Bob Dole and John McCain. Dole could never
shake the insider lingo or methods of Congress. The only bright spot in
his entire campaign was the day he resigned as majority leader. McCain,
by contrast, never set out to be legislator-in-chief. He got on a bus
and never looked back, and ran as an insurgent against Congress. He came
within a nasty smear campaign of pulling off the greatest political upset
in his party's history.
Don't let the debate in Washington set your agenda or your critique.
The president always sets the terms of the debate in Washington. You'll
be better off if you make the debate on your terms -- and the country's.
In 1992, none of the most important issues that launched Clinton's campaign -- national
service, health care, welfare reform -- was even on the calendar in
Congress. Your challenge is to address the problems that Washington has
ignored or forgotten, and show that in important ways the incumbent is
simply out of touch.
We have a hunch what those concerns might be: Government isn't doing
enough to make people safe at a time when crime rates are creeping up
again and the war on terrorism has no end in sight. People are working
harder for the same wages, and seeing their families less. Folks don't
understand why they're still paying the price for the corporate crime
wave, while the wrongdoers aren't, and nothing much has changed.
But the only way to find out what's on people's minds is to hear them
out. So use your time well in New Hampshire and elsewhere, by listening
to real people, not just asking for their votes. You'll learn something,
and your campaign will be much stronger for it.
In the long loneliness of
the campaign trail, it's easy to think that nobody's listening, apart
from the poor souls trapped in the same living room you're visiting. You
know you're competing with the half-dozen other candidates they've already
met, so why not get them to nod their heads by telling them what they
want to hear?
The trouble, of course, is that many of the heads you'll have nodding
aren't even a good cross-section of those you'll have to win over for
the primaries, let alone the general election. Many activists who turn
out this early are hobbyists who have spent the past four years obsessing
over the same pet issue or crank grievance they used to hijack the unsuspecting
troupe of candidates who came to town the last cycle. Never forget: Your
real audience is far beyond the room.
More important, these early days are the time when the cement will begin
to set around your public imprint. The people and the press are meeting
you for the first time, and the cliche is true: You'll never get
a second chance to make a first impression. The reputation you have spent
your life building back home won't carry much weight if you stray from
it, even briefly, on the trail. The press and your opponents will see
to it that every lapse is magnified beyond proportion. Even if you recover,
the hits take awhile to shake: "Where's the beef?" (Mondale
to Hart in 1984), the wimp factor (Newsweek on Bush I in 1988),
"pander bear" (Tsongas on Clinton in 1992).
But there's an even better reason not to tell voters everything you think
they want to hear: What they most want to hear is proof that you're for
real. Promising a program for every problem reinforces the Democratic
stereotype you need to dispel. Voters want answers, to be sure, but more
than anything they want someone they can trust to deliver on promises,
not just make them. You can't claim you're the most like McCain and campaign
the most like Mondale. Making challenges instead of promises is what Being
John McCain is all about.
One of the iron laws of politics
is that taking the conventional path to the nomination leads to a nomination
that's not worth having. It's called the beaten path for a reason!
In any primary debate, all the pressure is to please the party faithful.
By definition, party caucuses leave out the vast swath of independent
voters who don't align with either side.
How you respond to that pressure will determine whether you make it to
the Oval Office or spend the rest of your life living down the fact that
you lost more than 40 states. The days are gone when candidates could
get away with telling different things to voters in different states,
or running one direction in the primaries and the opposite in the general
election campaign. The press and an army of opposition researchers are
keeping track of every word. Every litmus test you sign up for at this
stage will be hung around your neck, should you make it to the next. Don't
forget: The real prize is the White House.
By all means, capture your party's
imagination -- but do it on your terms, not theirs. Don't look for the
false unity that comes from shying away from every controversial issue,
and reject the consultant consensus that stacking constituency upon constituency
will add up to a majority. That strategy may work in a congressional race,
but not in a presidential one. The presidency is about the whole, not
the sum of the parts.
The only real way to unify a diverse party is to unite people behind
new ideas and a higher purpose that make them forget their old labels.
That's a winning formula for the primaries, especially since Democratic
primary voters aren't nearly as ideological as most people think. And
come November 2004, you'll be able to attract your base and the swing
voters you need to win.
The journey you have just chosen will require all the courage, creativity,
and fortitude you can muster. The only force powerful enough to sustain
you is the one that spurred you to launch this quest in the first place:
the belief that you can make America a safer, stronger, more prosperous
nation. Over the long haul, the American people almost always get it right.
Blueprint Keywords: Extra Five Myths
