I remember the 2008 Democratic primary pretty well.
I was pretty sure, going in, like everyone else, that Hillary Clinton would win it, although I preferred other candidates, including the one who eventually won.
I remember also being increasingly bothered, turned-off and dismayed by the behavior of Clinton, her campaign, and some of her supporters, as it became increasingly clear that she was going to lose. In particular, their post hoc demand that the primaries in Michigan and Florida, which everyone had agreed in advance would not count and from which everyone but Clinton accordingly withdrew, should be counted after all, to Clinton’s benefit. That outcome, had it been ratified, would have been manifestly unfair to everyone in the world except her, including the voters in those states who knew, and relied upon, the fact that the primaries would not count and voted — or refrained from voting — accordingly.
I actually watched the televised round-table discussion in which a whole bunch of Democrats, including people from both campaigns, got together to decide how to deal with Michigan and Florida. It was a disgusting display; back-and-forth advocacy masquerading as negotiation. And again, I remember being more disgusted by Clinton’s advocates, whose goal was to undo a prior commitment to which everyone at that table had agreed in advance, for her benefit and no one else’s, whereas the view from the Obama side was to simply stick to that deal.
Was my negative reaction to Clinton, her campaign and her supporters driven by the fact that I preferred Obama? Meaning, in essence, my own partisanship? It’s entirely possible. I don’t claim to be immune from bias; this is an admonishment to myself as much as anyone else. But that’s not really the point I want to make today. What I remember most about the 2008 primary was its partisanship and divisiveness. I remember thinking and telling people that the Clinton-vs.-Obama competition among their respective supporters had become so unsavory that listening to one candidate’s supporters talk about the other was like listening to a 12-year-old Yankee fan talk about the Mets.
I would have thought that that kind of talk, that kind of partisanship, hostility toward and demonization of the opponent, would and should be for general election. There’s nothing wrong with being passionate about nominating the candidate you want and like best, and advocating strongly on his or her behalf, but in the primaries it’s important to remember that we’re all ultimately on the same team, choosing our champion to go into battle against the real opponent. For reasons I can’t fathom, it never occurred to anyone in 2008 to ascribe to themselves or others the simple, wholly-inoffensive, eminently-reasonable idea that “I like Clinton; I just like Obama better.” That’s how I went into the 2008 primary, and that’s how I hoped we’d all come out of it.
Instead, we got PUMA.
Thankfully, Obama still won in November, despite unfounded fears that the PUMAs would spoil everything out of spite and hand the White House to McCain-Palin. And with all due respect to Martin O’Malley, Clinton’s only real challengers in 2016 were an Independent and a couple of ex-Republicans, so the dynamic was very different in 2016 than it was in 2008. That year, we had a field of prominent and well-qualified Democrats, which we winnowed down to three, then two, incumbent Democratic Senators with little or no political or ideological daylight between them. That seems to be what’s shaping up for 2020.
The point I want to make today, with Cory Booker having made his inevitable announcement and the anticipated field continuing to grow, is that we simply cannot let 2008 happen again. Can we please not PUMA the 2020 primary? Can we please not treat the other candidates, i.e., everyone other than the one we each prefer, and especially the last opponent when the field is winnowed down to two, and his or her supporters, as the enemy? As if electing him or her would be the end of the world? As if he or she were the Republican in a general election?
Can we please go into the primary and come out of it with the attitude that “I like [X]; I just like [Y] better” ? And can we treat each other accordingly? Can we not ascribe evil motives and bad character to anyone who supports a different Democrat to go up against the Grand Nagus in the Fall?
Once again, let me emphasize that I’m not opposed to vigorous advocacy and passionate campaigning. There’s an old saying; “In the primary, you fall in love; in the general, you fall in line.” I’m not asking anyone to concede or accept that a non-preferred candidate will be the nominee before he or she is the nominee. But for the love of all that’s good and holy, can we please remember that we’re on the same side, that all of our candidates are on our side, that whoever we nominate would make a far better President than the Drumpfenführer, and that if I prefer a different candidate than you, it means nothing more or less than “I like your preferred candidate; I just like mine better” ?
The owner of the summer camp I went to as a child, was a pacifist of the highest order. Most camps end their summer with a thing called “Color War,” where the camp is split into two sides and compete for a few days in various sports and other activities (I’ve analogized politics to Color War many times). But this man had a powerful aversion to war and all of its metaphors, so at his camp, Color War was called “Olympics.” The idea, of course, was to invoke and evoke the values of the Olympic Games and the Olympic Movement, viz., peaceful, friendly, spirited competition whose purpose is to educate and inspire, to promote peace and unity through sport; as opposed to war, whose purpose is to destroy and ravage and conquer.
So, when 2020 finally rolls around, can please we think of the primary as the Olympics, and save Color War for the general election?