For evidence that the eventual winners often look weak within their own parties, I like to look way back. In January 1932, Gov. Franklin D. Roosevelt was widely depicted in the press as an unprincipled lightweight, and the Democratic National Committee, breaking any pretense of neutrality, fought FDR's nomination every step of the way. In January 1960, the smart money was betting against the playboy senator from Massachusetts, who was considered unelectable because he was a Roman Catholic. The party matriarch, Eleanor Roosevelt, believed that John F. Kennedy should show "a little less profile and a little more courage," and his rival Lyndon Johnson spread rumors that Kennedy was dying of Addison's disease right up until the moment JFK put LBJ on the ticket for vice president.
Want more? In 1976, the prospect of nominating Governor Carter was so distasteful to many rank-and-file Democrats that they gathered around "Governor Moonbeam" (Jerry Brown), who won late primaries. In early 1992, Sen. Bob Kerrey charged that the Vietnam draft controversy enveloping Bill Clinton would destroy Clinton's chances in the South, where Republicans would "split him open like a warm peanut." As late as June, just weeks before he was nominated, Clinton was so disliked and distrusted that he was running a weak third in the polls behind the incumbent President George H.W. Bush and Ross Perot.
The point is, voters don't mind fight-night primaries as long as everyone in the party ultimately kisses and makes up. But will they? Of the Democratic candidates trying to gang-tackle Howard Dean, it's Joe Lieberman who seems most likely to stay mad and cause problems, as he did when he broke ranks and ripped Clinton in the impeachment wars. Joltin' Joe may continue to depict Dean as out of the mainstream, even though the facts don't support the charge. If Dean wanted to pull out of Iraq and cut the defense budget, their differences would be deep. But he doesn't and they aren't. [Considering his many flip-flops, I wouldn't be surprised if that isn't exactly what Dean has suggested]
Neither Lieberman nor Dick Gephardt nor John Kerry are likely to be the beneficiaries of their attacks on Dean. But President Bush won't profit much from their barbs either. [Alter says hopefully] If Republicans run ads attacking Dean with the words of Democrats, these former rivals will inevitably cry foul—then claim (out of party loyalty enforced by other Democrats) that the situation has changed, they've seen a new Dean, whatever. Eating their words would prove embarrassing to Democrats, but not fatally so. Most voters will understand that these things were said many political turns of the wheel earlier and discount them. That's why there is almost no history of one party's using the opposition's primary struggles in general-election TV advertising. They usually have better weapons at hand.
But if Dean isn't being teed up for Bush, he might find himself being softened up for Wesley Clark. I was in Arizona last week, where the important Feb. 3 primary is, as a nurse in Tuba City put it, beginning to feel like a "two-man race." Dean is still the favorite because he is phenomenally well organized; in the Democratic town of Bisbee, for instance, he has an astonishing 50 volunteers lined up while the others have only a handful at most. And yet doubts are surfacing. Between bites of pancakes at an IHOP in Glendale, a pair of senior citizens see Dean as a fast-talking "know-it-all" and Clark as a candidate who has "been there" on foreign policy. Beyond Iowa and New Hampshire, most voters are barely paying attention, and none of the TV ads is original or funny enough to break through. So in Arizona and elsewhere, Clark's first name—"General"—is a distinct advantage.
The issue for Dean is not the other candidates but himself. He conceded to me last month that he would need to fine-tune his message for the general election. But he wouldn't accept my premise that his political bedside manner left something to be desired. It's very difficult for a cranky, shoot-from-the-hip candidate to win a presidential race. (Dean's model, Harry Truman, became president on FDR's death and only barely won in 1948.) History shows that would-be presidents, like doctors, need to measure their words, stay positive and smile—from January right through the year. link