In the realm of belated, reluctant converts to the cause, no presidential candidate has been tardier to the altar of campaign finance reform than stumbling Republican front-runner, George W. Bush.
Bush scrambled to release a proposal for campaign finance reform only after his drubbing in the New Hampshire primary at the hands of John McCain. McCain has been the closest so far to a genuine reformer among his Republican brethren, all the while invoking their wrath for daring to propose an end to unbridled soft money contributions.
In fact, Democrats Bill Bradley and Al Gore have joined McCain in a call for banning soft money, leaving Bush in the awkward position of having to explain why he is the only major candidate who balks at an outright ban on this form of campaign financing. The soft money loophole allows hundreds of millions of dollars that are not earmarked for specific candidates to flow into party coffers, where they are later spent to benefit specific presidential and congressional campaigns under the guise of "party building."
Bush's new proposal is long on spin and many pennies short on substance. Seeking to capitalize on the populist buzz that surrounds McCain, the specifics of campaign finance reform Bush-style lack teeth, and appear nothing more than an effort to tear down the populist McCain momentum that threatens Bush's once-anointed mainstream candidacy.
The Bush plan focuses on balancing the "rights of individuals" with the need to "reform the abuses of the [electoral] system." Thus, he calls for the elimination of corporate and union soft money donations to political parties. But echoing the hollow rhetoric of Republican Senator Mitch McConnell of Kentucky, a key enemy of the McCain-Feingold campaign finance reform bill in the Senate, the Texas governor mixes his campaign reform proposal with free speech proclamations. Democracy is "first and foremost about individuals," and so he would have us swallow a ban on corporate soft money but would leave untouched the unlimited and unregulated contributions by individuals to political committees.
"Individuals," according to Bush's proposal, "are the backbone of democracy." Of course, since only one tenth of one percent of the American public donates as much as $1,000 -- the current federal limit to any candidate per election -- we are left wondering: Exactly which individuals is Bush talking about?
Could those who might write a check for, say $50,000, $100,000, $200,000 or $500,000 in an exercise of their First Amendment rights be the same corporate executives, oil men, family political cronies and favor seekers that helped him amass his $70 million war chest?
And might not that same elite just be able, with a little creative planning, to write the same large soft money checks they provide now, simply switching from company to private bank accounts? After all, the current record for a single soft money donation is held not by a company or labor union, but by individuals. Direct-sales entrepreneur and Amway co-founder Richard DeVos and his wife Helen each wrote $500,000 checks to the Republican National Committee in April of 1997. The wave of multi-billion dollar mergers and initial public offerings (IPOs), especially in the high tech industry, has created overnight millionaires and billionaires who could easily eclipse the DeVos record.
Bush essentially agrees with McCain in one area: regulating the political use of union dues taken from non-union workers in union shops. Both candidates would require explicit approval from each employee before the money could be used. Complaints about direct and indirect financial aid from labor unions is a mantra for Republicans, who say traditional organized labor support for Democrats would put the GOP at a disadvantage in any reformulation of campaign financing.
Bush's plan does have one seemingly reasonable suggestion, a requirement for real-time disclosure of all contributions on the Internet. Even here, though, a cynic must note ulterior motives. Could Bush be trying to steal McCain's thunder on the Internet? Internet fundraising has created a buzz for McCain; it is the only area where McCain has outshone the Bush financial juggernaut. The Arizona senator has brought in more than $3 million in Internet cash against less than a million for Bush.
Other features of the Bush campaign finance reform proposal are insipid, such as prohibiting federally-registered lobbyists from contributing to members of Congress while they are in session. As if barring the wolves from the living room would keep them from the door after the lights go out! Bush also neglects a major loophole in the failed federal election law -- the increasing problem of issue ads. Here, third-party groups raise millions of dollars (often with deceptive, hidden financing) to run advertisements that ostensibly advocate "positions," but which ultimately take a stand for or against candidates.
Without a firm, simple stand against soft money, no campaign finance reform bill can be taken seriously. Bush's proposal falls short compared to the other top presidential candidates'. McCain, seeking to simplify the issue for voters, has called for the outright ban on all soft money.
On the Democratic side, Bradley has taken the offensive against Vice President Al Gore, joining with McCain in a joint New Hampshire appearance to call for the soft money ban. Bradley's may be the most ambitious plan of all, calling for free television time 60 days in advance of elections, public financing of general congressional races, and the disclosure of advocacy groups' spending habits.
While more comprehensive than McCain's proposal, Bradley may have overcomplicated the issue, a lesson McCain learned well last year when he trimmed down his McCain-Feingold bill after years of defeat in the Senate. While McCain has kept his plan simple for voters in 2000, Bush, seeking to differentiate his reform platform from that of McCain's, may have followed Bradley's mistake and obfuscated the issue beyond most voters' tolerance.
Gore, for his part, has also called for a soft money ban as well as free television and radio time for political candidates. Like Bradley, he proposes to enact legislation that would force issue advocacy groups to reveal their sources of funding. Gore's main problem is that he has the perception of an insincere born-again on the issue of campaign finance reform. The soiled legacy of the 1996 Clinton-Gore-DNC fundraising scandal has made him an easy target for Bradley, who has taken to attacking Gore in recent weeks over the Vice President's involvement with those debacles.
Bush's failure to support a soft money ban will continue to be a source of frustration for the Texas governor should he win the Republican nomination. Sensing his weakness there, both Gore and Bradley will hammer away at the issue (although Gore will certainly have difficulties explaining his dubious past fundraising activities). Campaign finance reform has become the surprise issue of campaign 2000 thus far, a result for which the Bush campaign did not prepare. Bush has been forced to draft a reform plan, but his own fundraising and insider ties leave him open to attack, especially from the Democrats.
As for the future of campaign finance reform, who can tell? It's easy for the presidential candidates to howl and wail and beat their chests about an issue that, for the moment, has no chance of passing muster in Congress. Only concerted popular pressure will put the issue on the front burner and give even the most watered-down measure a chance to reach the desk of these erstwhile and unconvincing presidential reformers.