Editorial from The Guide	Editorials Archive

Why didn't Al Gore slam dunk George Bush in the last presidential election? As vice-president, Gore inherited a seemingly invincible political legacy: the country was enjoying unparalleled prosperity, and the new uni-polar world order signaled that the past decade of (relative) American peace could be extended indefinitely. Furthermore, Gore's opponent was a demonstrably ignorant, nationally inexperienced stooge of big money and beholden to the Religious Right.

How did the election turn out to be so close that Bush-- with a little help from his brother, the governor of Florida-- could actually win? And given the blatant injustice of the Supreme Court claiming their five votes mattered more than thousands of uncounted Florida ballots, why was there not a more vigorous political reaction to Bush's hijacking of the presidency?

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The answer lies in Gore's campaign strategy.

Twelve years earlier, Michael Dukakis had his clock cleaned by another Bush after insisting that the 1988 election was about competence, not ideology. With the head of the Democrats abandoning any principled reason for his campaign, Bush senior clobbered Dukakis. And, again, in 2000, Gore dedicated himself to proving that he was as "moral" as Bush, seeking to demonstrate similarities with the Texas buffoon rather than highlighting differences.

Instead of confronting and challenging the Religious Right, Gore actively courted them. He had wife Tipper crusade for censorship of "dirty" and "offensive" rap lyrics. He himself touted his campaign for ever-more police and prisons, reiterating his support for killing prisoners. And he picked as his running mate Republican-like senator Joseph Lieberman, a fundamentalist Jew infamous for his chummy relationship with Pat Robertson and pious condemnation of Clinton's sex life.

Thus, Gore tried to portray his Democratic party as little different from the Republicans, believing that creating an image of being marginally more moderate would hold the key to electoral victory.

But it didn't work. Though many voters despised know-nothing Bush, almost none were actually enthusiastic about Gore. Given Gore's pandering to both religious extremists and the nation's plutocrats, why should they be?

Another political strategy was open to Gore. He could have taken a page from John McCain's popular challenge to fundamentalist zealots. Had Gore managed to find his voice to attack the Religious Right (a group that was never going to support him, anyway), he would have harnessed political energy from those threatened by would-be theocrats. Instead of cosying up to the Bible-thumpers, Gore could have wooed independent, and even many Republican, voters appalled at the GOP's crusade to create a "Christian" nation wherein moral heresy is equated with political treason.

We can hasten the day national elections offer us a choice we can be enthusiastic about. And, ironically, our best lesson how to do so comes from the Religious Right itself. They exercise political influence disproportionate to their numbers through their principled-- however misguided-- dedication to their cause.

As gay voters, we may not have the numbers to elect a president. But our boycott could ensure defeat for any candidate counting on gay support. Were we to demand, as effectively as the Religious Right does, that our candidate actively embrace our agenda, we could at last see an election wherein Tweedledee wasn't trying to out-moralize Tweedledum.

When we allow Gore (and others) to win our support with lip service, all the while playing footsie with those who would have us exterminated, we are guaranteed defeat, no matter what the electoral outcome. Only by forcing candidates to offer us a choice of substance rather than style can we use electoral politics for real and lasting victory.