Political columnists regularly find two temptations irresistible: D.C. silliness being one and relentless horse race "analysis" being the other. These are frequently substitutes for substance. This week, in the spirit of the David Broders and Maureen Dowds of the world, I will succumb to both temptations in the same column.
Speaker Nancy Pelosi, the Capitol's silly alliteration queen, explains politics like Shel Silverstein writes poetry. Elections turn on recruitment, raising money and rapid response, she quips. And idealism, intellect and integrity. And people, politics and policy.
But the triad most relevant to the early presidential positioning is her political triune of "money, message and mobilization," the three constituent elements of a successful campaign effort. Interestingly, each one of the M's has been appropriated by one of the Democratic front-runners (as ordained by the weighty decrees of aforementioned columnists).
Sen. Hillary Clinton is set to make the fat cats of elections past purr in awe at the personal minting machine she has constructed. She hopes to amass a jaw-dropping $75 million this year alone. A D.C. establishment enraptured by money and influence peddlers, already swooning over the Clinton brand, will continue to characterize her as the presumptive favorite.
Luckily such coronations are no longer dependent on the Beltway chattering classes. Candidates will be nominated more for their political courage, charisma and character than for how many times over they can double previous fundraising records. A viable candidate will naturally draw the contributions necessary to campaign effectively (see Howard Dean, 2004). Money follows good candidates; it doesn't make them.
Besides, money is not the central resource in presidential races. John Kerry decided the $15 million he had left at the end of his campaign wasn't worth spending. Earned media are much more valuable than paid advertising, and bigwig Democratic consultants have proved, with consecutive underperformances, that they're not worth their price.
Right now Sen. Clinton has no better chance at the nomination than any of the other East Coast senators running for president.
John Edwards has an early lock on mobilization. He's kept his primary infrastructure in place since his 2004 bid and has never really stopped campaigning. Edwards has been quietly but assiduously courting labor's political machines, which are seen as critical in the early Iowa and Nevada caucuses. Dedicated and organized feet on the ground is something money can't easily buy.
But strongly mobilized campaigns have also bitten the bitter dust of primary defeat recently. Labor support led the charge for the Dean and Gephardt campaigns in 2004; both floundered as soon as the voting began.
Barack Obama will receive his party's nomination because he has tapped into the resource that wins elections-a compelling and engaging national message. "Wherever there's despair, faith is more powerful," Obama stresses. "Where there's cynicism, hope is always stronger ... That's what we offer the American people: hope."
This is the message-backed by a credible, charismatic messenger-that will bring the money, the foot soldiers, the earned media and all the other necessary resources. (A later column will explore why Obama deserves to win -this column simply catalogs why he will win.)
The pathetic Republican field, in contrast, looks so pitiable because no leading candidate has developed a coherent message at all. Sen. Brownback is perhaps the only one who knows where he stands-he's hoping to carry the anti-escalation, pro-flat tax, fundamentalist Christian constituency to victory.
Besides analyzing its strengths, another way of organizing the Democratic field is by its weaknesses (for clearly no candidate is limited to just one M). Clinton is missing that critical message that offers anything valuable to primary voters. Obama, so new to the national scene, lacks the mobilization machine that his competitors have spent years assembling. And Edwards will likely not be able to keep up with the gobs of money that will come easily to his celebrity opponents.
Such a perspective hints at the possibility that one man, with none of these weaknesses, could join the field late in the season and become the instant favorite. Al Gore would raise in the first night of a potential candidacy more than many candidates will accumulate in the whole year (I was shocked at the grassroots fervor over a Gore campaign, but I'm convinced it's real).
With more elected experience than Clinton, Edwards and Obama combined-and ample experience in national campaigns-mobilization and infrastructure could also come quickly.
And Gore's admirable enthusiasm for the environment has turned him into a super hero. Already nominated this year for an Academy Award and a Nobel Peace Prize, Gore's appeal to save our planet will have an attentive audience.
If Obama hopes to win the nomination, he needn't look back at the crowd that's already declared their candidacies. He'd be more prudent preparing for a particular challenger that may join the field this fall.
Jacob Shelly is a sophomore in the School of Public Affairs and a liberal columnist for The Eagle.
