The Fatal Mistake (December, 2003)

"South Bend, Ind., Mayor Pete Buttigieg and Sen. Elizabeth Warren  (D-Mass.) have ramped up their public feud in recent days..."  The Washington Post (12/6/2019)

A word to the wise, from an old guy who has been around:  Stop this, now!

A little story...

On the afternoon of Christmas, 2003, I flew from my home in Virginia to Manchester, New Hampshire for a life-altering week knocking on doors for Howard Dean.

I only had that one week.  I was teaching high school full-time, but I had been powerfully drawn to Dean's insurgent campaign, and I'd always wanted to be involved in the New Hampshire Primary.  So when my best friend - a very wise woman - asked why I always talked about New Hampshire but never went, I made up my mind to spend my holiday break in the center of the political universe.

It was an exciting week.  I stayed in a nice hotel.  I had agreed with a Virginia newspaper to write a daily article about the experience, and the quiet of my room proved very necessary. 

This series of eight "dispatches from the front" led to a weekly newspaper column in the same paper, then another column in a local weekly, and an eleven-year career as an opinion writer.

The writing proved to be the life-altering part of my trip.  I didn't help elect a President.  Howard Dean - who was leading in the Iowa and New Hampshire polls when I flew to Manchester - was out of the contest by February 18.

The popular myth is that Dean lost the nomination because of "the Scream" - Dean's personal version of Hollywood's celebrated Wilhelm scream on the night of the Iowa caucuses.  The "Dean Scream" was actually Dean's hoarse-voiced attempt at a battle-cry, ending his speech after he ran a disappointing third.

Vermonters should never attempt a Rebel Yell.

But, as I say, the Scream is mainly a myth.  Yes, it was damaging - but it happened because the candidate had run third in a contest he had been expected to win.  Had Dean won the Iowa caucuses, there would have been no "Scream".  He would have been the front-runner, with a double-digit lead in New Hampshire - and a clear shot at the Democratic nomination and a fall campaign against an unpopular George W. Bush.

Instead, Dean ran third in Iowa, after John Kerry and John Edwards.  Kerry went on to win New Hampshire - erasing Dean's 30% lead of mere weeks before.  Three weeks later, after another third-place finish in Wisconsin, Dean ended his campaign.  The Iowa winners, Kerry and Edwards, went on to become running-mates, and lost to Bush and Cheney.

From my less-than-lofty perch as a door-knocker in Manchester, I saw the whole thing happening - and couldn't do anything to stop it.  The Dean campaign made one fatal mistake - a particularly dumb mistake - and it killed Dean's campaign and pretty much guaranteed a second term for George W. Bush.

What was that mistake?

The Dean campaign decided to go after Dick Gephardt - the former House Minority Leader who had stepped down in 2003, making way for Nancy Pelosi.  A Missourian, Gephardt ran largely on his support in the Midwest and on the loyalty of labor.  It was his second try for the Presidency, and - while he was much loved in the Party - he was hardly an interesting or exciting candidate.

I met Gephardt during my week in New Hampshire.  Since I was there as a volunteer - and was also writing a nightly column - I decided I needed to meet at least one candidate during my week.  Dean wasn't due to be in the area, but Gephardt was - at a bagel shop in Concord, across the street from the state capitol.  So I took a few hours off, drove up, and shook his hand.

I met a nice guy who was never going to be president.  His welcoming committee consisted of older men - working types - who were friendly, but hardly excited.  It was clear in five minutes that the Gephardt campaign was a sort of "farewell tour".  Gephardt was enjoying the attention, visiting old friends and supporters - maybe hoping for a vice-presidential slot - but he wasn't going to be President.

And his supporters knew it.  Both in Virginia, before I left, and in New Hampshire, I talked with any number of union folks who loved Gephardt, but were intrigued by Dean.  The message - over and over - was:  "We'll stick with Dick until he drops out, but after that, we really like Dean."

But, instead of sticking to the high road and being patient, the Dean campaign got into a pissing contest with Gephardt's people - and committed suicide.  In New Hampshire, I could see this coming.  One afternoon, when we should have been knocking on doors, a bunch of us were rounded up and dispatched to stand on a street waving Dean signs as Gephardt's motorcade passed by on the way to an event.

It was a silly way to spend a few hours - kinda fun, but mindless.  It was also challenging, as we'd be equipped with big 4' x 8' signs, which wanted to turn into sails in the cold, brisk, whirling breezes of late December. 

And of course, the Gephardt folks found out about it, and chose and alternate route, so the whole exercise proved useless. 

But it reflected something going on at a higher level.  The paid staff of the Dean campaign and that of the Gephardt campaign had decided to go after each other.  In New Hampshire, we had our silly sign-waving expedition.  In Iowa, things got a lot uglier.

And as a result, the front-runner got into a fight with a guy who was no threat.  And two candidates who were supposed to be also-rans in Iowa - Kerry and Edwards - stayed above the battle and took the top slots.  Gephardt ran fourth, and ended his campaign the next day.  Kerry won New Hampshire, with Dean second - but Dean's insurgency was over.

At the time, I knew the Dean-Gephardt scrap was a mistake.  In retrospect, I see it as the fatal mistake.  Dean was the front-runner.  Gephardt wasn't going to win.  And a lot of Gephardt's people - particularly the union people - were ready to move to Dean when their guy dropped out.

All the front-runner had to do was act like one.

So why didn't that he? 

I don't know.  But I do know this.  The people who run campaigns are human beings - but their view of a campaign is very different from the views of citizen volunteers.  For us, victory for our preferred candidate is highly desirable, but other outcomes - at least, some of them - are acceptable.

For the professional staffers, winning is all-or-nothing. They're playing for incredibly high stakes.  The key staffers of a winning candidate will probably end up working in the White House.  The rest will be looking around for jobs in gubernatorial campaigns, mayoral races, etc.  They are working incredibly long hours, eating poorly and sleeping irregularly, and under enormous stress.  They have personal friendships and animosities with staffers in other campaigns.

There's a lot of dynamite lying around, and any spark can ignite it.

But when an explosion happens, it far too often proves fatal - to both campaigns and candidates.

I've seen it happen.

So when I read that the Warren and Buttigieg campaigns are starting to attack each other this December, I think back to another December, sixteen years ago.

And I start to wonder which candidate will stay above the battle, and pick up the pieces when both combatants self-destruct.

I've never believed Sanders or Biden will win the nomination.  The Party won't have Sanders.  And Biden just proved - at that little town-hall in Iowa - that he isn't a safe choice to send into a debate against Donald Trump.

So, if Warren and Buttigieg don't make peace, who plays the John Kerry role in 2020?

My money would be on Amy Klobuchar or Cory Booker.

Or perhaps, like Kerry and Edwards in 2004, on the two as a ticket.