"What I want to know, is what in the world so many Democrats are doing supporting the president's unilateral intervention in Iraq?"
With these words, Howard Dean didn't just begin his 2003 address at the California State Democratic Convention. With this damning question, Dean took the first steps toward taking back his party.
"I'm Howard Dean," he would bellow, echoing Paul Wellston's rallying cry. "And I'm here to represent the Democratic wing of the Democratic Party." No more cowering before a discredited president, no more Republican-lite.
When they were competing presidential candidates in the 2004 cycle, Connecticut Sen. Joe Lieberman took to whining that Dean's stridency would lead the Democratic Party into the "political wilderness." What Dean understood was that the party had already been lost in the political wilderness for the past 10 years, giving away both houses of Congress and the presidency. And Dean knew that this was due in no small part to years of the triangulation, smarmy centrism and selling out that Lieberman had come to represent.
Now I was no Deaniac in 2004; this is no hagiography. I was wary of his right-wing takes on gun control and capital punishment and his strict fiscal conservatism. I suspected many swing voters would find his prickly temperament too abrasive.
Still, Dean's contribution was impressive. He rewrote the textbook on presidential campaigning, smashing fundraising records by shrugging off party bigwigs in favor of small donations. By harnessing the Internet's democratic appeal, Dean mobilized supporters in the reddest pockets of the country and let loose an army of volunteers to knock on doors.
But ultimately, Dean's legacy has little to do with votes or money or canvassing tactics. Howard Dean remade the Democratic Party - and he is continuing to do so today.
Dean's central insight was that "you always do better in politics if you stand up for what you believe in." In the Democratic Party at the time, this suggestion was radical. Twenty-nine Democrats in the Senate and 81 in the House had just surrendered on the day's defining vote, authorizing military force against Iraq. From civil liberty violations to budget-busting tax cuts, too many Democrats were wearing themselves out waving white flags.
So with his trademark pugnacity, Dean launched an insurgency intent on giving voters something to believe in again.
"Never again will we apologize" for environmental protections, union rights or universal health care, he said. "Never again will we be afraid of a president with a 70 percent popularity rating who sends us to war without telling us the truth." Today, some Democrats are afraid of a president with a 30 percent popularity rating.
While Dean's presidential run crescendoed a few weeks too early, from his campaign's ashes rose a movement bold and proud. As chairman of the Democratic National Committee, Dean has purged the stultifying, short-term instrumentalism that never won very much because it never risked very much. Dean gambled that the party could make historic gains by investing in Southern states, rural Midwestern states and libertarian Mountain West states where Democrats hadn't won in decades. Thanks to his efforts, in 2006 voters elected strong progressives across the country.
There are still some in the Democratic Party who don't mind losing elections as long as they are revered as party elders and invited to the right cocktail parties. They're the ones complaining about Dean's mismanagement of this year's presidential primary, urging him to "show leadership" by backing down on Florida's and Michigan's rule violations. They should know better.
Howard Dean, thank you for giving me my party back. Now we can finally concentrate on getting our country back.
Jacob Shelly is a junior in the School of Public Affairs and a liberal columnist for The Eagle.
