#26
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Maryland politics: as fractured as its donuts
Spring 1982
Washington Post Magazine
Maryland has long been a state that exists in the gray areas. A border state in the old days, with southern sympathies but northern industrial habits. A state of varied demographics, with strong but never dominant communities coexisting (sometimes uneasily, sometimes harmoniously) side by side.
In politics, she has a well-earned reputation as a swing state when it comes to federal contests. Since 1948 Maryland has voted five times for the Republican and four times for the Democrat in presidential elections. In that same timeframe Maryland has elected five Democrats and four Republicans to the senate. At the state level, things have tended to sway more in the direction of the Democratic Party, but that reflects the old New Deal Coalition of rural conservatives and more urban liberals, with certainly less of the liberal consensus seen in more northerly states and a much more muted brand of white chauvinism than was seen in the deep south during the First Civil Rights Movement.
In many ways, Maryland’s complicated equilibrium makes it the perfect terrarium in which to observe national political trends and the effects the new three-party political order is having on the union.
Perhaps the most notable change is the split in the African American vote. Long trending towards the Democratic Party, the Anderson administration’s embrace of a Second Civil Rights Movement has turned the lockstep community on its head. But rather than migrate en masse to the GOP, the black community seems to be splitting along class and geographic lines.
The two new poles of African American power are Democratic Baltimore and the DC suburbs of Prince George’s County, which are trending more and more Republican. The wealthiest majority African American county in the country, Prince George’s also supports a significant federal workforce and many military facilities. These thoroughly middle class communities are well positioned to take best advantage of the recent changes in the tax code. And the anti-racist crusader, Attorney General Samuel Pierce, is as much of a household name here as Jesse Jackson.
Meanwhile in Baltimore, widespread systemic poverty remains the top issue. There, black leaders are calling for a resumption of Martin Luther King Jr.’s Poor People’s Campaign- a direct confrontation of inequality and class barriers rather than what is perceived as Anderson’s roundabout focus on access to financial institutions and education outcomes. Though leaders might praise the NATCO program, they say it doesn’t go far enough.
Leaders in Baltimore are also worried about the growing influx of what they term “outsiders.” These are new (and sometimes even returning) residents to the city, bringing ethnic diversity to some majority-black neighborhoods. There are allegations of colonization, and of old-time residents being outbid for available homes. At the moment these cries are faint, as the city has a surplus of land and housing from 20-30 years of population loss.
The Republicans are also making major inroads with the state’s rural African American population. These tend to be more socially conservative, economically populist voters who are uncomfortable in any party. But given the state Democratic Party’s powerful liberal wing, these low-key voters are finding the moderate GOP a more comfortable home these days. With registered Republicans making up almost 40% of the black community going into the primaries, Maryland represents the current high-water mark for the GOP in terms of African American outreach.
The other significant story in Maryland is where the American Conservative Party has found its home. Over a very short period of time, the Eastern Shore has turned itself into a bulwark for the ACP. Unlike the agricultural regions of the Midwest, which have tended to split in the new three-party order somewhat evenly between populist “New Deal” impulses and fundamentalist conservatism, the Eastern Shore has seen very little leftist mobilization. With rural African Americans moving to the GOP and most younger conservative voters moving to the CP, the Democrats are left with a generational split. They can generally count on older voters in this region; lifelong conservative Democrats, mostly. But this is a demographic time bomb that may keep them from being competitive in the region in the coming years.
The Appalachian west of the state has also seen a Conservative insurgency, but here they are met by both the traditional small-holder Republican mentality that’s survived since the Civil War, and the rising fortunes of the labor vote in the Democratic Party. The old mill towns and mining communities are experiencing a boom in terms of employment and construction, particularly along the revitalizing rail corridor from Frederick to Cumberland.
The Conservatives have also made some important inroads into the wealthier areas in the central part of the state. While their numbers here are small, this is an important fundraising area both locally and nationally.
The remaining slice of the Maryland pie- white working class and middle class voters- has experienced some of the same sorting that we’ve seen nationally. Namely, working class voters, seen as poachable under Nixon, are hewing more closely than ever to the Democratic Party. While the middle class- often enamored of liberal lions in the past three decades- is finding Anderson’s brand of Republicanism very comforting. There are also some interesting corollaries in the data that show the potential for a voter breakdown to emerge around the level of a voter’s education.
Poll-watchers and other experts believe all of these shifts in power point to a bright future for the Republicans in the state, at least for the next few election cycles. But given the volatility of the current political climate, they are quick to hedge their bets and remind us: anything is possible.
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June 1982
Fort Worth
The Texas state Democratic Party convention. What a shit show. The program was full of speakers nobody was listening to; panels everyone shouted through; and dinners that turned into armed camps, with each table its own discrete faction.
The surface tension of the party had always been strained, and in recent years it was threatening to burst. In the months leading up to the convention, the Democrats had split into more than half a dozen major caucuses- caucuses, not entirely new parties, at least for the moment- some with membership overlapping, others almost wholly cut off from the rest. Some factions were in constant, close negotiations. Others weren’t talking to anyone.
This reflected the national mood of the party almost exactly. The Democrats were suffering from an identity crisis. It seemed like common ground was slipping away from the diverse constituents that had long made up the party. The moderates were pleading with the populists. The populists were trying for an alliance with the minorities. The remaining conservatives were shouting into the wind. The environmentalists weren’t talking to organized labor. Labor was badgering the moderates. The rural progressives were at war with the urban progressives. The African Americans were at war with each other. The Hispanics were quietly leaving. The Asians were already gone.
Still, if you could just get them all to vote, they easily represented a majority of citizens. Certainly here in Texas, probably in the nation at-large. If you could just get them all to vote...that was a puzzle people had struggled to figure out since FDR.
And so the mess continued, an air of pure aimlessness settling over the convention. In truth, everyone was waiting for 1984. Who would be the nominee? They had the chance to shape the direction of the party for a generation, to settle once and for all what the pecking order would be. Everyone thought their faction had a chance to come out on top. Everyone was secretly weighing their options should they fail.
The same conversations were happening across the nation.
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He’d been ducking their advances for weeks now. They’d made appointments, which always got canceled at the last minute. Phone calls were not returned. Confronting him in public or, god forbid, at one of his fundraisers was out of the question at this early stage. They even staked out his law offices, and were starting to be convinced he had some sort of escape hatch nobody knew about.
They needed a change of tactics. They sent the problem back to Washington, which spun the wheel and came up with Denise Mannard, currently an organizer in the Pacific Northwest. She hopped-to quick enough when the brass asked her, and immediately booked a flight and sent a telegram to her old college friend.
Two days later Denise is joined at a passable bistro (considering the location) by a woman who is...probably
not trying to dress like a spy from a 1940s movie...but she’s not
not trying at the same time. The wide-brimmed hat looks good on her, and the open lapels of the coat effectively mimic a trench coat feel.
There’s small talk for a while, followed by what seems like small talk but is in fact very pertinent to the reason Denise is here.
“Gosh you know it’s been so long. I can’t even remember when the last time we saw each other.”
“It had to have been Wellesley.”
“Of course...you know, I think we could even pin it down further.”
The other woman looks the slightest bit embarrassed. “It was probably a club meeting.”
“Yes, I bet you’re right. Gee, if the Wellesley Young Republicans could only see you now, huh?”
“Yeah, well. You know how it goes. People change.”
“Things were definitely changing then. Civil Rights. Vietnam. Anyone could understand how those might turn a person upside down. Politically-speaking, that is. You always went to where your truth was and everyone admired you for it.”
“They were all great girls, and our heads were in the right place. I don’t regret my time with the group.”
“From what I hear your husband is the same way. Always cuts through the bull, focuses on what’s possible. You know he’s widely admired, even on our side of the aisle.”
“Well I’m glad to hear it. I hope they’ll keep that in mind when he’s campaigning against Governor White.”
“So, it’s true, then? He’s going for another try?”
“That’s the plan.”
“It’s going to be a crowded field from what I hear.”
“So all the better for the man with the most name recognition.”
“It’s a shame about the confusion going on, with the Conservatives muddying the waters. You don’t really know who will show up to vote.”
“We’ve done the legwork. We’ll be alright.”
“Maybe. But from what I hear, the old rank and file of your party are out rallying for the ACP, leaving the Arkansas Democrats with a very altered constituency. A lot of populists, a lot of African Americans, and some strange pockets here and there.”
“No offense to your national strategy, but Bill will have no trouble winning the moderates back from the GOP. White is a-” She looks around and lowers her voice, “-nutcase. Frankly I’m surprised he hasn’t defected to the Conservatives.”
“So are we.”
The revelation hangs in the air for a moment, and the moment stretches. Both take a long sip of their drinks as Hillary Clinton- once and future first lady of Arkansas-’s eyebrows disappear into her hat brim. Denise continues.
“We think he’ll wait until after the filing date then announce he’s running on the Conservative ticket. In fact we know it. His office leaks like a sieve. That’s why we’re looking for a challenger now.”
“...I see…and you thought…”
“Your husband’s a great candidate, Hill. Charismatic and pragmatic, everything we want the new GOP to be going forward.”
“From what I hear the Republican brand isn’t doing so well in Arkansas.”
“Damn right, it’s not. We need help. Just the kind of help Bill can provide. Have you been following what George Christopher’s doing over at the RNC? 80% of new recruits for the House this year are from the centrist wing of the party. These are fellas with functionally the same beliefs as your husband. It’s an easy argument to make that he belongs with us.”
“But Denise, think about it for two seconds: you just undermined your whole position. You told us White’s going to defect and the GOP won’t have anyone to fill the slot. So if Bill can sew up the Democratic nomination, he wins in a walk.”
“That’s a pretty big if, Hill.” She takes out a file and passes it across the table. “Take a look at that when you get a chance, and show your husband. We’re all about data these days; I hear he’s a fan of data, too. We’ve even got some polling in there. But let me just summarize it for you: Bill’s trying to stake out the center. But Tucker’s already out-flanked him to the left and Hendren will lock down whatever’s left of the right. Bill splits the center with Purcell and Tucker wins with a comfortable plurality. Like I said, this isn’t your daddy’s Democratic Party down here. Populism’s what plays now.”
Hillary takes a peak in the folder, but only so her lowered hat brim will hide her reaction. Denise quickly moves on.
“But there’s another way. You two help align the Arkansas GOP with the national party. You bring in your organizers, your voting base, your loyalists, and you craft a truly moderate party for a strongly moderate state. And then you know what happens next? We take what you’ve done- the Arkansas model; the Clinton model- and we replicate it for the rest of the South.”
It doesn’t take a mind-reader to tell she’s intrigued. But she also clearly understands the implications. The GOP is functionally kaput in Arkansas without its conservative base. Unless it can reorient around the center, Arkansas will remain a two-party state with the Democrats and the ACP carrying all before them. And between old Yellow Dogs who won’t ever bend, African Americans, centrists, and populists, a permanent (at least for the foreseeable future) Democratic majority is the likely outcome.
The only kicker is, it was looking more and more like the Arkansas Democratic Party wanted to achieve this permanent majority without the help of the Clintons. Tucker was more popular with the party bosses than Bill these days. They felt they needed to shore up their support with the rural populists, and since Bill was locked into defending his previous, Anderson-like term as governor, he just didn’t have the messaging they wanted.
When faced with a choice between an easy Democratic win without them, or a chaotic free-for-all with them, what-oh-what would the Clinton’s ever decide?
“Denise...how’d you like to come to the house for dinner tomorrow night?”