Dean vs. Deanism

24 January, 2004

I was first attracted to Howard Dean a year and a half ago, back when he was the only candidate officially running. At the time, the Vermonter was agreed to be an extreme long shot, unlikely to make much difference to the race. I liked his willingness to take political risks, and his apparent honesty. I liked his mix of positions, which included his reluctant but genuine conversion to a civil unions supporter and his stand against the war in Iraq, combined with his stereotype-bucking fiscal conservatism and gun rights stance. It seemed like his was a candidacy that a broad mix of people could get behind, one that wouldn't polarize the electorate. This is the Howard Dean we saw in those Canadian tapes rethinking his stance on NAFTA and expressing legitimate concerns about the Iowa caucus process. He was a sort of political Unitarian -- eclectic and non-dogmatic. But as is too often the case with Unitarians*, his campaign lacked the organization and spirit that could get a cynic like me to do more than think "sounds all right."

While I came away from my early exposure to Dean with warm feelings, others were more enamored of his possibilities as chief executive. They began aggressively talking him up, building a network of interest over the internet. Campaign Manager Joe Trippi saw the potential in this emerging support and began fostering it, using it to help propel Dean out of Moseley-Braun territory in the polls.

The movement fascinated me as well. I was too cynical to get caught up in it, but I could feel its appeal tugging at me. It seemed to reinvigorate politics, bringing people into the process and personalizing it through blog participation and MeetUps.

But the very appeal of the movement -- what my title refers to as "Deanism" -- is in contradiction with the appeal of Dean himself. The Dean campaign offered the possibility of real and deep participation to all those who were part of it, a democracy symbolized by the vote taken on whether Dean should accept federal matching funds. Yet that vote was open only to people who had already made a commitment to the campaign, not to well-wishers like myself. Likewise, the whole political invigoration of the campaign seemed focused on an in-group of true believers. This strong boundary conflicts with the broad appeal of Dean's record and substantive proposals. It doesn't make fence-sitting (of the type I continue to do) easy, and it doesn't appeal to those whose hunger for full-blown participation and activism is less strong.

Speaking on Canadian television about the Iowa caucuses, then-Governor Dean said the problem with them was the amount of commitment they required from a caucus-goer. They are a more participatory form of democracy, but that comes at a price. The same can be said of the Dean campaign. Iowans were put off by the "Perfect Storm" of canvassers, referred to derisively as "Perfect Stormtroopers," because the Dean campaign seemed to be asking a much deeper commitment than just standing in his corner that Monday night. For better or worse, Deanism comes off to those on the outside as the Scientology of politics. The victory of Deanism over Dean is reflected in how few Iowans said he was their second choice, despite a strong showing as a first choice.

Howard Dean made the mistake of getting sucked into Deanism. This is amply reflected in the now infamous post-caucus speech. Outsiders to the capaign were appalled, and perhaps for a good reason -- Dean wasn't speaking to them. The camera was an intruder on a moment between Dean and his movement. Dean begins by saying he had expected to find some disappointed people after his shocking distant third place finish, but the atmosphere in the room is that of a victory party. The energy took hold of Dean, whipping him into a fury of excitement about the strength of the movement. His speech was exactly what his supporters needed to hear, to keep the fires of Deanism burning. Therein lies the contradiction -- the message that the in-group needed was exactly the opposite of what the out-group, the undecideds and convinceable supporters of other candidates, needed to hear.

In shock after the defeat and the bad press, the campaign seemed eager to dump Deanism. What had been the defining element of Dean's candidacy was forced into the back seat. But without Deanism, what reason is there for Dean to stay in the race now that the other candidates have adopted much of his message? On the other hand, how can Dean win given the polarizing nature of Deanism?

The dilemma of Dean versus Deanism confronts Howard Dean most forcefully, as he's the candidate who has most strongly nurtured Deanism. But all of the Democrats in the race must find a balance between these two forces if they expect to build the support they need to defeat George W. Bush, and more crucially if they want to make a real change in America. Some sort of precarious balance must be struck between invigorating democracy and limiting it to an in-group of people willing to fully commit. Somewhere between the Unitarians and the Scientologists, there must be what we might call a Lutheran politics -- spiritually and organizationally strong, but open to people who want to just walk in and have a look around.

*This is not a knock on Unitarians -- I consider myself one.

Stentor Danielson