I was inaugurated into the world of politics at the age of five during the summer of 1960 when my parents proudly took my brother and me into the local JFK campaign headquarters to pick up some "Kennedy for President" buttons and bumper stickers. Twelve years earlier, while sitting in a postwar European DP camp, my father had declared his fealty to the Democratic Party in what was to be his new country the moment he learned that President Harry S. Truman had chosen to recognize the newly proclaimed State of Israel on the first day of its existence. I recall singing with a classmate in Kindergarten during the fall presidential campaign, "Whistle while you work, Nixon is a jerk..." I remember three years later harboring a secret crush on Caroline, who was a couple of years younger. I also remember the elementary school principal's tearful announcement on the school's new intercom system that our young president had been shot, and, an hour later, that he had died. I remember learning a new word that day, "assassination."From Lyndon Johnson's landslide victory over Barry Goldwater to Hubert Humphrey's bitter narrow loss to that still-jerk, Richard Nixon, there was never any question that I was, and would be, a Democrat. At the age of 17, with shoulder length hair, I canvassed precincts for George McGovern, and debated with my immigrant maternal grandmother who (in hindsight, with great wisdom after suffering the consequences of American isolationism in the 1930's) mocked the slogan of retreat, "Come home, America," and announced her intention to re-elect the person she considered to have been the lesser of two evils.
During college, my friends and I counted the days as Watergate played out until Nixon resigned. I later heckled Ronald Reagan at a campus appearance when the former Governor was gearing up his first presidential run. I voted for Jimmy Carter. Twice. I voted for Walter Mondale. I even voted for Michael Dukakis.
During the 1980's, my DNA told me that the Nuclear Freeze movement was a bad idea, but I had sufficient cognitive dissonance to remain a loyal Democrat. The first real moment of doubt came on January 12, 1991 when the majority of Democrats in the Senate and Congress voted against President George H. W. Bush's requested authorization for use of military force against Iraq after Saddam's invasion of Kuwait. After the Kuwaiti invasion, it seemed that my wife and I were alone among our liberal friends in recognizing that Saddam's incursion was a bald act of aggression that must not stand. Following the congressional vote, it was essentially the entire world (including most of the Arab world) on one side and Saddam Hussein, Yasser Arafat, and the Democratic Party on the other. It was the first time I felt ashamed of my party. But not the last.
Nevertheless, even though Bush 41 had enacted one of the greatest displays of presidential leadership in my lifetime, I was still a Democrat. I considered Bush to have been the right man in the right place at the right time (if Dukakis had been president, Saddam would still be in Kuwait and probably in part of Saudi Arabia by now), but his time had passed. Despite apprehensions about his slickness and apparent sliminess, there was no hesitation in my voting for William Jefferson Clinton both in 92 and 96. I appreciated that he was a New Democrat who would steer the party back toward the center.
Before 1991, my only litmus test in voting for a presidential candidate was that there was a "D" by their name. After 1991, it was that they did not oppose the Gulf War. If a candidate lacked the clarity to know what was clearly unacceptable in that situation, how could they be trusted in the next crisis? Although Bill Clinton had no vote in the matter, he had voiced support for Desert Shield and Desert Storm. And his running mate, Al Gore, was one of the few Democrats who had voted in favor of the Gulf War resolution.
I stood by Clinton, even during the self-inflicted darkest days of his presidency. While I now realize that his policies planted the seeds of the housing and financial crises that exploded a decade later, and he failed to contain continued challenges by Saddam or kill Osama bin Ladin when he had the chance, I thought he and the Republican Congress governed pretty well. I hated Ken Starr, and even agreed with Hillary that there was a vast right wing conspiracy from the moment Bill took office (Richard Mellon Scaife, anyone?). I probably would have voted for him again if he could run for a third term. I did the next best thing by supporting Al Gore, who I thought was reasonable on national security and had not yet become such a lunatic on global warning. During the Florida vote recount, I hung on every chad, and, after, I seethed at the outcome of Bush v. Gore.
I have not voted for a Democratic candidate for president ever since. So what turned me? My lack of confidence in the party to keep us safe after 9/11 in the age of terrorism? Democrat corruption, hypocrisy, and the excommunication of moderates during the Bush 43 era? The frightening idiocy of John Kerry (the evidence of which continues to accumulate on a daily basis) and the smarminess of John Edwards? The vileness of Harry Reid and dopiness of Nancy Pelosi? The Democrat's mindless opposition to the surge, and their refusal (particularly Obama's) to ever acknowledge that it worked when it did? Obama's entire candidacy and presidency, particularly his mendacity and disastrous foreign policy decisions that were entirely foreseeable? The entire party's embrace of looney political correctness, the abdication of world leadership, open borders, misplaced priorities, and yes, even unapologetic socialism?
You probably know the answers to these questions. Stay tuned for further details.
