The Schweiker Gambit

In 1976, Ronald Reagan - on the point of losing his challenge to President Gerald Ford for the Republican nomination - decided to take a gamble.  Weeks before the Republican National Convention, he announced that his running-mate would be Richard Schweiker, a moderate Senator from Pennsylvania.

The Schweiker Gambit was the result of desperation.  Despite his popularity, Reagan was being severely schooled in the awesome power of incumbency.  In the end, the gambit failed.  Indeed, it appeared to backfire, temporarily damaging Reagan's credibility with the party's aggressive and growing right wing.

In 1980, when Reagan won the nomination, he did not repeat his move.  His ultimate choice of George H. W. Bush came at the last possible moment, surprising nearly everyone.  The Schweiker Gambit has not been used by a significant major-party presidential candidate since the Gipper first introduced it, over 40 years ago.

But does that mean it should never again be tried?

In this year's Democratic field, three of the four leading candidates share one unusual characteristic:  All are over 70.  The oldest, Bernie Sanders (78) maintains a blistering pace on the campaign trail, despite his recent heart attack.  But still, that heart attack happened.  A year younger, Joe Biden campaigns more sedately, conserving his energy and trying to avoid the verbal slips which - though they have followed him throughout his career - might now be taken as evidence that he is losing a step, mentally.

The youngest of the three, Elizabeth Warren, seems to be driven by some inexhaustible power source - as though she embodies the case for alternative energy within her slender frame.  Still, she is 70 years old, and the questions which surround her male rivals cannot entirely be ignored in her case.

In a race in which three of the four principal Democratic candidates - and the incumbent president - are in their 70s, the question arises:  Should the Schweiker Gambit be revived?  And if so, how would that be done?

The case for a candidate naming her or his running-mate can certainly be made.  By long tradition, both parties routinely ratify the vice-presidential choices of their presidential nominees.  Virtually no mechanism exists for denying a newly-nominated candidate her or his choice.  Whatever scrutiny exists is performed entirely by the new presidential nominee's campaign staff. 

Yet the choice of a running-mate can be among the most important decisions a future president makes.  Search your historic memory for one thing William McKinley did that could possibly rival his choice of Teddy Roosevelt as his running-mate in 1900.  Consider the dramatic results of FDR's choosing Harry Truman.  Or JFK's decision to team up with his rival, Lyndon Johnson.

A case could certainly be made for the two major parties playing a greater role in vetting vice-presidential nominees.  In our national history, eight vice-presidents have succeeded to office upon the death of a president.  Two more - Martin Van Buren and George H. W. Bush - won election immediately following the president under whom they had served.

The mathematical probability is that the election of 2020 will be between two individuals in their seventies.  Considering this fact, the likelihood of the next vice-president succeeding to the presidency has grown disturbingly high.  Since the parties themselves seem unable to apply serious scrutiny to their candidates' choice of running-mates, perhaps the people themselves - through the primary process - should have a voice.

But how would this be done? 

It should be remembered that the Schweiker Gambit was a last-minute roll of the dice by a candidate on the verge of losing the nomination.  It should also be remembered that it did not work.  For any of the three septuagenarian Democratic front-runners suddenly to introduce a running-mate could be taken - likely would be taken - as a sign of desperation.

But what if the Democratic Party itself suggested this step?  What if the candidates agreed to it?  Perhaps best of all, what if a popular groundswell developed, demanding that all of the older candidates - or perhaps, all of the candidates, regardless of age - name their prospective running-mates before the Iowa caucuses? 

For certain, the people voting in the caucuses and primaries would be better informed, having teams to choose from, rather than individuals - one of whom would end up with an unrestricted choice next summer.

Moving toward an early choice of running-mates could also do something about the disturbing tendency of the Democratic presidential race to become a contest among white candidates.  There would be enormous pressure on all of the leading Democratic contenders to choose running-mates of color - which would restore a sense of inclusion to a contest which threatens to forfeit the enthusiasm of millions of citizens. 

Ideally, of course, candidates of color will remain in the contest for the top job.  And for certain, the Democratic Party must take serious steps to revise their debate rules so that this is the last campaign in which all candidates of color risk elimination before the first caucus or primary vote is cast.

But for 2020, we are where we are.  One hopes that Cory Booker will rally in time to rack up stronger polling numbers - or finds a way to carry on his campaign without participating in the December debate.  But for now, Booker's campaign appears to be in trouble.

That said, with high-quality candidates of color dropping out because of depleted  funds or low polling numbers, there are a number of outstanding vice-presidential choices available to candidates still in the race. 

Perhaps 2020 is the year to revive the Schweiker Gambit. 

Calling on the surviving Democratic candidates to name their running-mates in January would reassure Americans concerned that so many of their choices are in their eighth decade of life.  It would, for the first time in memory, give Americans at least some role in choosing a candidate who might well succeed to the presidency.  And it might - however imperfectly - restore at least some diversity to a contest fast becoming all-white, and very nearly all-senior.