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                                                                                THE POLITICAL INTEREST, Page 49

The Green-Eyed Monsters


By Michael Kramer


    Jealousy, perhaps the oldest and certainly the most
pernicious of human emotions, is always fascinating to behold,
the more so in politics, where ambition invariably trumps
loyalty, and old grudges are carried to the grave. In general
in recent years Republicans have held their egos in check --
with the notable exception of the far right, which abhors all
who fail to slavishly toe its line. Most mainstreamers, however,
follow the G.O.P.'S "11th Commandment" ("Republicans shall not
speak ill of other Republicans") and only rarely strike at their
own, as Bob Dole did recently when he dissented from the Bush
campaign's anti-Perot blitz. While Dole's stance was unwelcome,
there was only the slightest there-he-goes-again headshaking at
the White House, for everyone knows that Dole is a special case.
He has never recovered from losing the 1988 Republican
nomination to Bush, and his leadership position in the Senate
demands that he be treated gingerly. And besides, no Bushie
really had the stomach to attack Dole for telling the truth,
which is that the nation's educationally challenged Vice
President was a bit wide of the mark when he charged that Ross
as Boss would destroy the Constitution (although, come to think
of it, the hapless Quayle's insistence on adding an e to potato
may have been due to his having immersed himself in the great
document's archaic 18th century spelling).

    But Dole's mild correction was a sideshow. As usual, it
was the Democrats, past masters of the art of party perfidy,
who went squarely about the task of nicking their embattled
nominee. Who exactly was leading the charge? Why, those who even
a casual observer could have predicted would most warm to their
indictments, Jesse Jackson and Mario Cuomo, two men who have
signaled repeatedly that if they themselves cannot be President,
they will not sleep well if another Democrat captures the prize.

    Poor Bill Clinton. His sin is that he wants to win and
that he understands that victory requires his adopting centrist
positions. Since the beginning of his tortured campaign, Clinton
has pushed policies that are anathema to traditional Democratic
liberalism -- and often before audiences ill disposed to hear
his message. Some have argued that in a three-way race he should
retreat to the Democrats' base of minorities and liberals.
Clinton's view is contrary and is the product of two assumptions
-- his belief that Perot will fade, which would leave him to
contest the crucial middle with Bush, and his knowledge that
even if Perot's unprecedented strut continues unabated there
simply are not enough core Democratic votes to win.

    In support of this electoral analysis, Clinton has
continued his walk away from some long-standing Democratic
verities. Many of his prescriptions have caused Jackson and
Cuomo to grumble, but they saved their full-throated ire for
Clinton's rebuke of Sister Souljah. Common decency dictates that
those seeking high office be willing to condemn the rap singer's
racist ravings, but Jackson perceived a "character flaw" in
Clinton's "sneak attack" on Souljah at an "emergency" meeting
of Jackson's "rainbow coalition." Speaking of himself in the
third person (an affectation common to megalomaniacs), Jackson
denounced Clinton's courage as a "Machiavellian maneuver"
designed "purely to appeal to conservative whites by containing
Jackson and isolating Jackson." So Jackson is flirting with
Perot and also promises a huge rally at the Democratic
Convention in July, where he may even encourage his nomination
for Vice President, three moves he would of course deny taking
in order to "contain or isolate" Clinton.

    To let tempers cool and to aid Clinton's quest for white
middle-class votes, those Democrats truly interested in
recapturing the White House have quite simply shut up. But not
Mario. The New York Governor, who only three weeks ago equated
Clinton with Bush as he chided both candidates for being
"unspecific" (despite the fact that the Democrats have never had
a nominee so willing to enunciate programmatic solutions), last
Wednesday sought to keep the flap alive by suggesting a Sister
Souljah summit at which Jackson, Clinton and Souljah would
"reconcile the situation" for "the sake of the country." Someone
"has to sit them down," said the slam-dunking Cuomo, who quickly
feigned lack of heft for the mediator's job. "I don't have the
stature or the role," said Cuomo, who governs a state with the
largest number of people outside Israel who understand the word
chutzpah. "I'm just one of 50 Governors. I'm one of many, many
Democrats . . . I don't have any special credentials." Except
as a spoilsport, that is.

    I have a dream (or is it a nightmare?). The year is 1996,
and the Democrats, weary of the nonstop sniping from their twin
800-lb. gorillas, finally give in and nominate their all-egoist
ticket. It is Jackson-Cuomo or Cuomo-Jackson. Naturally, the two
are unwilling and unable to decide which of them should be at
the top of the ticket. They bicker constantly, each with his own
polls proving that he deserves to be his party's standard
bearer. They ignore the opposition and battle to the end, to
Jan. 20, 1997, when they are spied jockeying for position in the
audience to watch the inauguration of President Quayle.