TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/092589/09258900.051

Text File | 1992-09-23 | 5.8 KB | 121 lines

                                                                                NATION, Page 23

. . . And on Capitol Hill


What do Democrats stand for?

By Hays Gorey


    In his pre-presidential incarnation, George Bush was the
Democrats' juiciest target: the perennial preppy, the suspect
wimp, the Vice President who was always off at a ball game or
a funeral when weighty affairs of state were being decided. But
after eight months in the Oval Office, Bush tops even Ronald
Reagan in popularity (70% approval), a reversal of fortune that
has plunged the out party into another of its periodic identity
crises. Last week, in an orgy of finger pointing, party
stalwarts from New York Governor Mario Cuomo to national
chairman Ron Brown asked, in effect, Where are the Democrats?

    Although the party retained two House seats in special
elections in Texas and California last week, the Democrats have
no clearly enunciated national agenda and, perhaps worse, no one
to enunciate it. To a notable lack of enthusiasm, Brown
nominated himself for the role. More logical choices are House
Speaker Tom Foley and Senate Majority Leader George Mitchell,
since the Democrat-controlled Congress is where differences
between the parties can be most sharply defined. But both
leaders are cautious and, to their critics, the kind of nice
guys who don't win pennants. Last week showed why:

    CAPITAL GAINS

    Foley and the once powerful chairman of the House Ways and
Means Committee, Illinois' Dan Rostenkowski, suffered a
stinging setback when six committee Democrats joined all 13
Republicans to help Bush redeem a campaign pledge to reduce this
tax. Although Democrats denounced the idea in last year's
presidential campaign as a giveaway to the rich (60% of its
benefits will go to people with incomes of more than $200,000),
the measure is expected to pass in the House. Mitchell vows to
try to derail it in the Senate, but he is without the support
of Texas' Lloyd Bentsen, who as chairman of the Finance
Committee could be his most powerful ally.

    Bentsen won acclaim for an alternative proposal: encourage
savings by expanding the deduction for contributions to
Individual Retirement Accounts. This would provide tax benefits
mostly to the middle class while simultaneously creating a pool
of investment funds, a goal of the capital-gains reduction.
Before IRA deductions were restricted in 1986, however, they
cost the Treasury $16 billion a year in lost taxes. Bentsen's
proposal is unlikely to stop the stampede to cut capital gains,
and it could become the next giveaway that Congress and the
President will seize upon. But the prospect of a huge loss in
revenue at a time of record deficits will probably prove
unacceptable.

    The capital-gains tax cut (from 33% to 19.6% for 2 1/2
years) illustrates the "babble of voices" that plagues
Democratic efforts to unite on an issue. Critics say Foley and
Rostenkowski threw in the towel too early; Mitchell girded his
loins too late; and Bentsen, who delivered the party's response
to Bush's economic message last winter, favors a lower rate.

    CATASTROPHIC ILLNESS

    Democrats and Republicans alike are in full retreat from
ired elders who awakened belatedly to the fact that they are
going to have to pay hefty premiums if catastrophic-illness
coverage remains a part of Medicare. Congress and the White
House will probably agree to cut back on some benefits, such as
payment for prescription drugs, to lower premiums that could
amount to $1,600 a year for a couple.

    DRUGS

    When Delaware Senator Joe Biden delivered the Democratic
response to Bush's "War on Drugs" speech, only one network
carried it live. What stuck in the public's mind -- and Ron
Brown's craw -- was the image of New York Congressman Charles
Rangel facing the cameras after a White House conference and
urging a tax hike to wage the war. Moaned Brown: "You can hear
America sigh, `The tax-and-spend Democrats.'"

    Congress always wages an uneven battle with the President,
but Democratic political consultant Ted Van Dyk declares, "The
troops are starting to get restless. There have been no clear
alternatives and damn little criticism. Foley and Mitchell
should be out front." Yet the Democrats have been mired in
troubles of their own: the convoluted agony of the pay raise,
the forced resignations of Speaker Jim Wright and whip Tony
Coelho, and now the sex scandal involving Massachusetts
Congressman Barney Frank. Nor is the climate right for combat,
with the economy perking along and the President enjoying an
extended honeymoon. Grouses former party chairman Bob Strauss:
"This is not the time to take on George Bush head on."

    For his part, Foley notes that the Speaker no longer has
the power exercised by the legendary Sam Rayburn: "The
hierarchical society is gone, in the country and in the
Congress. The idea of government is to govern. There will be
enough fights." Observes Mitchell: "There will be both
confrontation and cooperation. There will not be confrontation
for the sake of confrontation."

    Expectably, the White House is delighted with Democratic
frustrations. Political operatives believe Bush has stolen the
opposition's best issues: the environment, education, child
care, the minimum wage (where Bush's veto of a Democratic bill
will force a compromise to the President's liking). "We have
co-opted them in areas that have traditionally been their
strength. They don't know what to do," gloats a senior
Administration official.

    He may have a point. With the President barely settled into
the White House, a few Democrats are already conceding his
re-election in 1992 and training their sights on 1996, when
Bush will be gone and the G.O.P. nominee could be Vice President
Dan Quayle. The Democrats should be so lucky.