A Presidential Postscript
by Robert Milt

Place: A green room in Arlington, Va.

A quite tired and dejected ex-presidential candidate stumbled away from his cab with a travel suitcase in tow. He lacked the expected travel staff. He was finally citizen Alexander, not Lamar! Like a marathoner cut off at the 10-mile mark, he looked frustrated, yet focused. He aspired for the top job, but those dreams had died in Iowa.

Who’s Lamar? Lamar Alexander is the former governor of Tennessee and former president of the University of Tennessee. In 1988, Alexander became George Bush's secretary of education. He believed he could change America for the better, and had the guts to go for it. In other words, he ran for president (twice) with a conservative platform not substantially different from George W. Bush, but lost badly both times. Why?

Our discussion didn’t immediately get into such deep questions, though. My first pointed question to Lamar was: “Would you like any coffee?” He nodded. I responded and gestured over to the juice and bagels. He looked concerned and asked, “who are you?”

Okay, well, our discussion wasn’t much an interview. It was really more of hello and a handshake. At the time, I was a production assistant for a public affairs program seen on most PBS stations following the overnight repeat of “Yan Can Cook.” We were taping a program on campaign finance that morning at WETA in Arlington, Va, just across the Potomac.

Then-presidential contender Lamar Alexander had recently “suspended” his campaign. (By the way, most candidates “suspend” their campaigns; instead of ending their campaigns so they can keep the money they’ve already raised or ask for money because they’re in the hole.) Following a 6th place showing at the Iowa Caucus, he quit. The twice-defeated said, “I'm just trying to face facts and I think I faced them honestly today … Republicans are desperate for a winner and he looks like he might be one … My only argument in the campaign was a winner is somebody who can beat Al Gore in debate and we better have a rehearsal before we pick our candidate.”

Despite his deep-pocketed connections, Lamar failed to raise the necessary funds to even make a dent in Iowa. In ’96, Lamar's trademark plaid shirt gained him modest notoriety. For 2000, though, he had traded in his L.L. Bean aesthetic at his local Nashville Brooks Brothers. Unfortunately, it didn’t see to matter.

Following the 1996 run, his campaign never really ended. He appeared at fundraisers and virtually camped out in Iowa and New Hampshire. He emphasized his folksy conservative family values and education tax credits.

Even then, though, Lamar failed to resonate with voters. George W., as we have seen, was the chosen son of the Republican Party for 2000.

So, why does Lamar matter? Of course, in one important sense, he doesn’t, because he, like Bauer, Keyes, Hatch and Dole, failed to influence the election discourse. Unlike those guys and gal, though, he said, “enough” and went peacefully.

Lamar matters because he highlights one of the central problems with presidential politics: It takes ridiculous amounts of money to get elected, or even make it through the primaries. And if you make it through the door-to-door campaigning in Iowa and New Hampshire, it costs even bigger bucks to get your word out nationally.

Lamar matters, then, because his short-lived campaign proves that the current campaign finance system doesn't just hurt Democrats. It's an equal-opportunity problem, and Alexander tried to make this an issue following the end of his campaign. In the course of the taped discussion that morning, he attacked the current campaign finance system:

“The biggest problem is the government has tried to restrict free speech, and it just can't do it. When they [elected officials] get in, they can't say what they have to say.” The campaign finance system is “filling up the Congress with millionaires who can spend their own money under the First Amendment. It's increasing cynicism among voters. It's forcing candidates to spend most of their time with people who can give them $1,000. So, it's having just the reverse effect of what was intended. It’s actually increased the influence of money in politics. And what we need is free speech, individual contributions and full disclosure.”

I have to agree with Lamar here, for the most part. Our current system hampers the possibility of even having a competitive presidential primary season, much less a fair general election.

There seem to be two principles which should govern the campaign finance reform process:

1) Individuals or groups (unions and PACs) should be able to give as much money as they want to any candidate.

Of course, the major political parties have too much at stake to change the rules so radically. So, I propose something a bit more politically practical. To my mind, the McCain-Feingold is a step in the right direction, and I have incorporated some of their suggestions in the following campaign finance “To-Do” list:

1) Stop the flow of so-called “soft-money” routed through the political parties by corporations, labor unions and the rich for so-called “party building” activities.

These won’t solve all our problems, but they should get the ball rolling.

Addendum: a post-mortem note for Lamar!

This past May, Dick Cheney began interviewing potential vice presidential nominees. He spoke with a skeptical Alexander, who was not even attending the Republican Pow-Wow in Philly. Cheney told Alexander the list of those under consideration was “short.”

Alexander: “What’s short?”

Cheney: “A handful.”

Alexander: “What’s a handful?”

Cheney: “Well, Lamar, I don’t know about you, but I've only got five fingers on my hand.” So close, so close.

E-mail Rob Milt at rmilt at hotmail dot com.