The London Observer
The consensus among political junkies and talking heads on this side of the Atlantic is that Al Gore's pick of Joe Lieberman as his running mate saved Gore's tush. But the new Gore-Lieberman brand has yet to be tested. And the first big test is whether it will fall into the trap the Republicans have set for it this week in Los Angeles.
Gore's choice of Lieberman was smart on three grounds. First, the chutzpah of picking an orthodox Jew grabbed the political momentum away from George W. Bush right after Bush's perfectly-scripted Republican convention, thereby checking Bush's convention 'bounce' in the polls. Second, given Lieberman's concern about moral values in America and his outspoken criticism of President Clinton's liaison with Monica Lewinsky, the pick gives Gore some protection against Republican attempts to tar him with Clinton's turpitude. Finally, Lieberman is a conservative Democrat, which helps Gore with the same moderate swing-voters Bush is trying to court.
But these advantages won't carry Gore far. Lieberman may be 'the conscience of the Senate', as one enthusiastic Democrat put it, but until last week most Americans had never heard of him. Senators are little known outside the states they represent and Lieberman is no exception.
There's also the question of latent anti-Semitism in America. Quite simply, no one knows how extensive it may be. People rarely tell pollsters they're bigots. The proof will come on election day in the privacy of voting booths. And Lieberman's conservatism is a mixed blessing. It may rankle liberal Democrats who comprise the core of the party, many of whom weren't wild about Gore to begin with. A small number will shift their allegiance to Ralph Nader. Others may not vote.
Democrats are holding their breath. They hope their convention in Los Angeles this week will be at least as successful a stage show for introducing the new Gore-Lieberman brand as was the Republican convention for introducing Bush-Cheney. But many things could go wrong in LA.
Democrats have never had a reputation for being particularly disciplined. The Democratic party is a larger tent than the Republican one - including labour unions, environmentalists, libertarians, African-Americans, Jews, old lefties, so-called New Democrats, trial lawyers, and civil servants - and not all these groups get on with the others. After eight years of the Clinton administration, moreover, some of them are outright disappointed. Rank-and-file union members are upset with Gore on his pro-trade stance, for example, and some of them will be on the convention floor talking to reporters.
Plus, there's the complication of two other national Democratic campaigns competing with Gore's - Hillary Clinton's, for the US Senate from New York, which is drawing off donations and media attention; and Bill Clinton's for his place in history, which also needs money (for a presidential library and related accoutrements) and attention (to what he has accomplished in office). Also, count on bigger and more disruptive demonstrations outside the convention hall than occurred in Philadelphia. Los Angeles is easier to get to than Philadelphia, California is flakier than Pennsylvania and Democrats always attract more demonstrators.
But the biggest trap has been laid by the Republicans, whose own convention embodied all the traditional images of a Democratic one - a kaleidoscope of ethnic groups; an address by the sole avowedly gay Republican member of Congress; the gentle rhetoric of tolerance and inclusion; the suggestion of policies that will help children become better educated, help working families afford health insurance and ensure that social security will be saved.
Democrats are eager to reveal the hypocrisy at the heart of the Republican strategy. Who are these Republicans to adopt Democratic images and themes when for the last eight years the Republicans have gone out of their way to thwart Democratic goals? How dare they speak as if they're responsible for the good times when the Clinton-Gore administration inherited a $300 billion deficit? How can they talk inclusion when they remain the exclusive province of relatively wealthy whites, and when the policies they are advocating even today in Congress - policies that their vice-presidential nominee, Dick Cheney, advocated when he was a member - consistently help the rich and powerful, while burdening the poor and powerless?
Hence the trap. Republicans would like nothing better than for Al Gore and Joe Lieberman to become attack dogs this coming week, and for the Democratic convention to wallow in harsh partisanship.
Republicans know that Americans have come to hate partisan bickering. After witnessing eight long years of bitter wrangling in Washington, including Newt Gingrich's shock troops, a government shut-down, independent counsel Ken Starr's witch hunt, Bill Clinton's recklessness, the character assassinations and press leaks, and a truly bizarre impeachment, they're fed up with politics. They're also bored to tears with it. Thanks to the new system of early, front-loaded primaries, they've known for five months who the two major candidates will be, and there are three long months to go, including a baseball World Series, the Olympics and the TV networks' autumn premieres.
Americans don't even want to think about politics. It's a time of peace and relative prosperity in America, the summer of our content, in an era of great social rest. Smugness has settled over the land like thick yellow smog. The nation is enjoying the longest economic expansion on record, so long, in fact, that most people don't quite remember exactly when the economy was bad, or who was in charge then, and who should get credit for the good times. And, frankly, they don't much care.
Not all Americans are sharing in the prosperous times, of course, and not everywhere in the world is peaceful. But Americans feel no common peril, no sense that the nation faces a crucial choice about anything.
Aware of all this, the Republicans who gathered in Philadelphia gave America exactly what it wanted - the least political convention in American history, filled with cotton-candy images of tolerance and prosperity, patriotic drivel and sentimental fluff. Even the Republicans' attacks on Gore and the Democrats were done with a light touch. Dick Cheney looked like a gentle grandfather. George W.'s zingers were packaged in some humorous lines and vacuous homilies about restoring dignity to the White House.
If, this week, Gore and Lieberman hurl accusations of hypocrisy at the Republicans, as they will want to do, America will hear only strident voices. If they are indignant and self-righteous, as they have every reason to be, America will hear only sanctimony. If they try to take credit for the economy and blame the Republicans for blocking progress on social security, good schools and the rest, as is perfectly fair, America will hear only partisan posturing.
That's exactly what the Republicans want. They've adopted Democratic imagery in order to make the Republican ticket seem far less frightening than it would if the right-wing social conservatives were let loose. And they want to lure the Democrats into attacking them for doing so, which makes the Democrats sound shrill and partisan while the Republicans stay above the fray. Their goal is to keep this up until October, when Americans finally begin to focus on the election. By then, if the Republican plan works, the new Gore-Lieberman brand will seem like the old brand of American politics, while Bush-Cheney will seem brand new.