| |
|
|
A resurgent Republican opposition plans to
make life very difficult for the state’s Democratic
establishment. Is the Massachusetts Democratic Party
ready for the challenge? BY
ADAM REILLY
|
|
|
|
|
FOR MORE THAN a decade, the rivalry between the state’s
Democratic and Republican Parties has been the political
equivalent of the Harlem Globetrotters versus the Washington
Generals, with Democrats retaining huge majorities in the
House and Senate that left four successive Republican
governors — William Weld, Paul Cellucci, Jane Swift, and Mitt
Romney — hamstrung by their inability to override legislative
vetoes. (Weld, who was elected in 1990, came to office with
veto power in the Senate but lost it in the next election two
years later.) Today, though, there are signs that the balance
of power is starting to shift.
Consider the following: the Massachusetts Republican Party
won a special election of huge symbolic value when State
Representative Scott Brown defeated Angus McQuilken for the
vacant Norfolk, Bristol, and Middlesex Senate seat on March 2
(see "Romney
Flexes His Muscle," This Just In, March 5). The party’s
finances are flush: after lagging behind the Democrats in
fundraising for much of the 1990s, the state Republican Party
has turned the tables of late, pulling in $3.8 million for
state races to the Democrats’ $2.6 million between 2000 and
2003. Under the leadership of chair Darrell Crate and
executive director Dominick Ianno, the state Republican Party
has also excelled at selling itself: witness the new
Governor’s Fellowship program, in which two dozen young
conservative activists from around the country will receive
training as political operatives and then get to run a key
Republican legislative campaign. And the man at the top of the
party, Governor Romney, is an ideological partisan — a clear
break from the days of Weld-Cellucci-Swift. Indeed, the last
time the state Republican Party looked as good as it does
today was in 1990, when Weld defeated Democrat John Silber in
the governor’s race and voters, angry over tax increases,
swept seven new GOP senators into office.
The Democrats, by comparison, look like a party in
disarray. Recent allegations that House Speaker Tom Finneran
basically used the party to launder $24,500 in contributions
to key allies provide fodder for the Republicans’ "shame on
Beacon Hill" script and suggest the party may be off its game.
So, perhaps, does the trajectory of the McQuilken campaign.
The Democratic establishment admits the party needs an
infusion of new energy, but some aspiring Democratic activists
counter that the establishment is unfriendly to newcomers and
new ideas. Meanwhile, as the state’s Republicans hone their
"reformist" script to a razor-sharp edge, the gay-marriage
debate has given new urgency to the question of what, exactly,
it means to be a Massachusetts Democrat.
For the Democrats, all this in-house turmoil is happening
at a very bad time. During the next seven and a half months,
as the new-look Massachusetts GOP rolls out more than 100
legislative candidates and mounts an aggressive assault on the
State House, the Massachusetts Democratic Party will face its
biggest electoral challenge in recent memory. Is it up to the
task?
THE OPTIMISTIC gloss on the Democrats’ situation is that a
few high-profile setbacks can make things look worse than they
really are. But the state party’s troubles run deeper than
Brown’s win and the flap over Finneran. Take the question of
fundraising. Publicly, Democrats have attributed Brown’s
fundraising edge over McQuilken — and the state GOP’s $1.3
million advantage in 2002 — to deep-pocketed corporate
Republican donors. Privately, however, some suggest that
Massachusetts Democratic Party chair Philip Johnston, a former
state representative who served as secretary of health and
human services under former governor Michael Dukakis and took
the state party’s reins in November 2000, hasn’t done enough
to line the party’s coffers. "Phil needs to do a much better
job of fundraising," says one Democrat who didn’t want to be
identified. "He hasn’t done much to take advantage of people’s
anger at George Bush and Mitt Romney. And I think he should be
able to do that."
There’s also, among many Democrats, a sense that the state
party has grown stale. Virginia Allan, a consultant at the
political lobbying firm Liberty Square Group, sits on both the
Democratic National Committee and the Democratic State
Committee, the state party’s 330-person governing body. She
notes that the State Committee, which includes a large number
of state legislators, is heavy on people who got involved in
Democratic politics during George McGovern’s 1972 presidential
campaign and the 1982 gubernatorial primary rematch between Ed
King and Mike Dukakis. "The fact that so many of us have
stayed involved and been active for a long period of time
speaks to the fact that there’s a lot of energy on the
committee," Allan says. "But by the same token, it’s time for
us to move aside. Certainly we’ll still work and help, but
it’s time for the next generation to come and start running
for these seats, running for state rep. The farm team should
be encouraging people to run for selectman, to run for state
committee, to serve on appointed boards in towns."
The party framework is supposed to encourage this kind of
new involvement. There’s a special lifetime-membership
category for State Committee members who’ve held office for
two decades, for example; after 20 years, these individuals no
longer have to seek re-election, and their seats are opened to
newcomers. The State Committee also allocates a number of
slots for youth — a category generously open to anyone under
35 years of age — and sets aside additional spaces for persons
of color. But the latest of these changes dates back to the
1990s. More recent alterations to the party’s structure, on
the other hand, have almost seemed geared to driving newcomers
away.
Consider the fallout from the 2002 gubernatorial campaign
of Brandeis professor and former Clinton cabinet member Robert
Reich. Like Howard Dean, Reich was an insurgent progressive
candidate who didn’t land the nomination but generated
excitement among independents and formerly disaffected
Democrats. In 2002, as a latecomer to the race, Reich managed
to secure the requisite 15 percent of delegates required to
participate in the Democratic primary, thanks in part to a
rule allowing would-be caucus voters to register as Democrats
one day before the caucuses took place. In a subsequent
Democratic State Committee meeting, however, the
preregistration requirement was increased to 40 days. It’s a
change clearly designed to handicap future candidacies like
Reich’s — late entries by big-name outsiders. Just the kind of
campaigns, in other words, that draw new people to the
party.
The 2002 Democratic state convention was a protracted,
chaotic affair (it dragged on for so long that the party
didn’t make a selection for treasurer, instead nominating all
four candidates). In its wake, Johnston, the state party’s
chairman, decided change was in order. He appointed Dukakis
and Worcester congressman Jim McGovern to co-chair a reform
commission charged with reviewing state-convention protocol
and proposing improvements to the Democratic State Committee.
Earlier this year, the Dukakis-McGovern commission, in
addition to suggesting some changes aimed at streamlining the
nomination process, recommended re-implementing the one-day
registration window. It also proposed dropping the delegate
threshold for candidates in the Democratic gubernatorial
primary from 15 percent to 12 percent, another step that might
benefit political outsiders. But both proposals were rejected
by the Democratic State Committee.
For Jesse Gordon — a Cambridge resident who was Reich’s
technology director, served on the Dukakis-McGovern
commission, and wrote the commission’s recommendation for the
one-day window — it was a profoundly disillusioning
experience. "The most frustrating part was that I wasn’t
allowed to speak to the Democratic State Committee, because
I’m not a member," recalls Gordon, who was recently elected to
the Cambridge Democratic City Committee. "I authored this
recommendation and I’m a member of this commission, and they
said, ‘Sorry, you have no standing, you can’t speak about
it.’"
Gordon believes his experience on the Dukakis-McGovern
commission is emblematic of a larger problem facing the state
party — namely, its reluctance to open itself up to new faces
and new ideas. For example, he says, the party hasn’t yet
warmed to the potential of interactive Internet organizing as
exemplified by the Dean campaign. "Phil Johnston — I think
he’s one of the most sincere people in saying that he really
does want to reach out to young people and newcomers, but he
really doesn’t get how to do it," Gordon says. "I always say,
‘Why don’t you use the Internet better?’ And he says, ‘Ah,
well, who cares about that?’ The reply is, if you want to
reach people, you have to go where they are." For his part,
Johnston insists the party’s become far more tech-savvy under
his watch. "Nothing could be further from the truth," he says
of Gordon’s charge. "We’ve put very serious resources into
technology.... I like Jesse, but he shouldn’t make these
statements without checking them out. Technology is the
number-one priority for me and has been from day one."
Whether or not the state party has made the most of the
Internet, the belief that the Democrats need a new infusion of
energy is widespread. McGovern, for example, says he was
disappointed by the rejection of proposals that could have
made the Democratic nominating process more attractive to
outsiders. "Look, I have incredible respect for the people who
are on the Democratic State Committee," he says. "These are
people who have dedicated their lives to good causes and
deserve all the recognition we can give. But on the other
hand, I also think it’s important for us to get new people
involved.... I think we need to find more forums to talk about
some of the things we stand for. And I think we have to be
open to allowing for nominees who may or may not be part of
the establishment or part of the inside gang. I have nothing
against insiders. But sometimes an insider may not be the best
candidate."
Johnston, too, admits the party needs to open up. He’s
backing a reform-committee recommendation that would earmark
25 percent of delegate slots at the state convention for
individuals under 35. "It’s very important to bring young
blood and young people into this party," Johnston says. "I’m
particularly concerned about the Dean workers, for instance,
and some people who gravitate toward the Green Party and Ralph
Nader.... It’s very important they feel welcome within the
Democratic Party. It needs to be a priority." The 25 percent
proposal is still on the table. But Johnston may be
disappointed: the State Committee already voted not to
implement it in 2004.
page
1 page
2 page
2 |