When it comes to political clich?(c)s, there are - pardon the clich?(c) - the good, the bad and the ugly. For a long time, one stood out as the ugliest: "America's youth is apathetic towards politics." We heard it so much that we actually began to believe it.
That is, until this summer.
That's because this has been the Summer of Dean. Short, red-faced and pugnacious, Howard Dean - a candidate for the Democratic nomination for President -- has become a political phenomenon.
Twenty-one percentage points - a huge margin in campaigns - separate him from the next candidate in New Hampshire, John Kerry. Over the summer, he raised millions of dollars, graced the cover of "Time" and "Newsweek," and was featured on television more than car dealer Billy Fucillo was featured on the sides of Buffalo busses.
Most remarkably though, the Dean sensation has been fueled by the youth of America. Droves of "Deanyboppers," young people who provide energy, manpower and financial support, form the cement in the foundation of his campaign.
Personally, I don't know what to make of Dean. I'm not sure he's the visionary leader we need to get us through these difficult times.
But if we look at the roots of his stunning success - especially with our generation - we find a lesson that can lead us back to greatness as a party: Dean has inspired our generation because we see him is a leader who is unafraid to be right.
If college students seem apathetic, it's because, like the entire Democratic base, we've been alienated by a political culture that puts strategy before idealism. We're bored by Washington's smug insiders and talking heads, who fret about whether niche-voting blocs like soccer moms will buy into a candidate's ideology. (In fact, even the phrases "niche-voting blocs," "soccer moms," and "ideology" probably are enough to make you wish this were Erin Shultz's column).
Instead of the party with the guts to be progressive, we've become the party that's afraid to lose. In the meantime, we've lost a lot: the presidency, the Congress and a majority on the Supreme Court. Senator Joe Lieberman, a more conservative candidate, has suggested Dean might "lead the party into the political wilderness." It's pretty clear that after decades without a bold agenda, Democrats are already in the political wilderness.
For years, Democrats have been looking for something more ambitious. About the same Zogby poll in New Hampshire, Will Lester of the Associated Press writes, "When asked whether it was more important to have a candidate willing to stand up for what they believe or a candidate who can win in November 2004, voters said they preferred the former by a 2-to-1 margin."
'Standing up' and 'bold agenda' don't necessarily mean a far-left agenda. It simply means we must not be afraid to stand up and represent the people who vote for us - the Democrats - such as working people, young people, women, and minorities. It means standing up for what we believe instead of living in fear of voter backlash. If we inspire the people we represent to vote for us, we'll win. And when we win, it will be a victory of justice and not of politics.
In the end, the remarkable lesson of the Summer of Dean lies not in the nature of the man, but the nature of the movement. Dean may disappear like a shooting star. But the strength of his movement tells us that Americans want someone with the guts to put ideals over strategy - to put being correct ahead of being elected.
As 1964 presidential candidate Barry Goldwater said, "Moderation in defense of justice is no virtue." While Goldwater lost the race, his idealistic campaign mobilized the conservative movement that has dominated politics for the last generation.
In a similar way, Dean's success shows that 2004 could be the dawning of a new progressive movement, but only if we put politics on the shelf and pursue justice, as its own end, with all our vigor.
Photo: Courtesy of Laron Fomby
