On a frigid December night in Des Moines, Iowa, - seven days before the first caucus - the Democratic race was tight and Barack Obama was playing his strongest card: preaching a new, post-partisan brand of politics. Obama echoed themes that made him famous, lamenting "our broken and divided politics" and promising the possibility of "a new kind of politics," one that replaced ideology with common sense.
The message resonated; Obama's Iowa victory won him the credibility, money and momentum that contributed to his final victory. But while the comforting talk of synthesizing red states and blue states into one harmonious America makes for great - and more importantly, winning - campaign rhetoric, its transition to a governing philosophy is much less inspiring. Rep. Barney Frank, D-Mass., diagnosed it best (as he usually does): "When [Obama] talks about being post-partisan, having seen these [Republicans] and knowing what they would do in that situation, I suffer from post-partisan depression."
Unity is nice. Cooperative friendliness is virtuous. But politics isn't about making friends - it's about achieving results on the most contentious issues of the day. Unfortunately, in his brief transition period Obama has at times seemed more interested in comforting a rejected opposition party than in securing the policy changes that so many millions of Americans thought they were voting for.
After Americans delivered a decisive mandate for progressive policies, Obama chose for his cabinet twice as many Republicans (two, including the very influential Secretary of Defense) as true progressives (one, the not particularly influential Secretary of Labor). In his Des Moines speech, Obama cautioned against this very strategy, warning "the real gamble in this election is playing the same Washington game with the same Washington players and expecting a different result."
In the context of the primary election, "the same Washington players" was code for Hillary Clinton and allies in her husband's administration - who were well practiced in turning campaign themes of bipartisanship into policy capitulations once elected. Regrettably, Obama has turned to Clinton herself and the old guard of Democratic "centrists" to staff critical executive branch positions.
"The same Washington game," Obama explained, was "to be so worried about losing the next election that we lose the battles we owe to the next generation." Such a critique seems a worthy indictment of Obama's stimulus plan, which is weighted with economically dubious tax cuts. This may win a few Republican votes and diffuse their loudest opposition (unlikely), but at high cost to the next generation.
Bipartisanship, of course, is not inherently problematic, but it must be practiced strategically. For example, Obama was right to invite Rick Warren to deliver his inaugural invocation. He sacrifices none of his policy commitments to GLBT equality, but the invitation may win Obama politically useful credibility among the evangelical community.
Likewise, partisanship shouldn't be applauded for its own sake; in its narrowest application, partisan bickering is selfish and petty, representing everything the public abhors in politicians. Sen. John Cornyn's, R-Texas, threat to block the seating of Al Franken as Minnesota's new senator is political posturing at its worst. Partisanship is problematic when it places parochial interests ahead of the national interest. But it is critical when it means overcoming entrenched opposition to secure the national interest. On issues from health care to the Iraq war, the bold leadership of a Democratic president would be more than change we can believe in - it's change we demanded.
Jacob Shelly is a senior in the School of Public Affairs, president of AU's chapter of Students for Barack Obama and a liberal columnist for The Eagle. You can reach him at edpage@theeagleonline.com.
