Perhaps the most politically astute response to the Clinton speech came from the Republican who’s been running the cleverest campaign over the past month: Steve Forbes. The zillionaire took a page from the president’s book and tried jujitsu, appropriating Carville-Begala-Bonior-style economic populism. “Only a Beltway insider would say the American economy is the strongest it’s been in 30 years,” Forbes said. “Tell that to the families struggling to make do on two incomes, tell it to younger people who want to buy a home. The president clearly doesn’t understand what American families are going through.”
Not bad. Forbes has gotten better on the stump in recent weeks. He tries to smile (unsuccessfully, usually). He’s even beggining to use his hands a bit when he speaks, fluttery little gestures of annoyance with politics as usual. And he is smart. He emphasizes the anti-Washington theme when he sells his flat tax-it’ll eliminate the loophole-loving lobbyists and insiders-rather than the blue-sky, supply-side angle (lower taxes will put a Porsche in Every Pot). He has some other intriguing proposals. He’s been especially courageous in telling the truth about social security, proposing a gradual transition to the sort of privatized. though mandatory,system that was pioneered in Chile and is now being adopted in many developing countries;happily both Phil Grantor and Lamar Alexander have joined this bandwagon.
But listening to Forbes remains a painful, awkward, stultifying experience: debate night at Mensa. And his ideas, especially the flat tax, are the political equivalent of cold fusion–laboratory fantasies, destined to be torn apart by his opponents (and shredded by Clinton in the fall, should he make it that far). Morry Taylor, the other rich guy in the race, destroyed Forbes’s version of the flat tax in a single sentence: “I could make $15 million in investment income and pay no taxes while one of my workers has to pay 17 percent on his salary.” Forbes is drawing large, curious and respectful crowds, but they do not come away enraptured. “He’s got some interesting ideas,” said Gary Hjalmervik, 53, a teacher who heard Forbes speak in Mason City, Iowa. “But he certainly cord use a little more charisma.”
So who word Hjalmervik favor? Dole? No. He voted for Dole eight years ago. He’s “a tremendous individual . . . but a lot of people are concerned about his age. If he doesn’t start closing the gap with Clinton soon, we Republics should probably look elsewhere.” Where? “Gramm or Alexander, I guess.”
I’d guess so, too. If Republicans were Democrats, there would be no question about who’d win this thing: Lamar Alexander. Democrats always nominate Lamar Alexander, one way or another–always a pleasant, reasonable, media-savvy, not very well known Southern governor. And Lamar Alexander always wins. As a Democrat. Republicans are different, though. Which brings us back to Phil Gramm.
He is a perfect turtle. He may have made a fool of himself trying to rebut Clinton’s masterful State of the Union, but he shows an admirable consistency on the stump. He draws good crowds, has a strong Iowa organization, and it’s not hard to see why: He delivers a sleek, comprehensible and profoundly conservative message. He is self-deprecating, folksy, tough as nails. When asked in Iowa City about the “unfriendly” media environment conservatives allegedly face, he said, “To win, you need the discipline to be repetitive.” Journalists consistently undervalue the power of Gramm’s persistence. And he, too, is very smart. His version of the fiat tax–16 percent, including mortgage interest and charitable deductions and taxing the coupon-clippers Forbes would exempt–is less pure but more plausible. Most of his other positions are form-fitted to the Main Street feed salesmen who dominate the Iowa party.
But for the rest of us? There is a hard, cold edge to Gramm, as there is to the entire Republican field. They talk tax rates, not virtues. They talk about efficiency, about giving people their money back, about returning government to local communities. That is important, and attractive-but insufficient. America is bound by more than the sum of our self-interested strivings. There is a national sense of romance, of destiny. There is a need for shared “challenges,” a word the president wore out last week. Ronald Reagan tapped into those feelings–effortlessly. At his best, Bill Clinton can do it, too. Phil Gramm can call this sort of rhetoric “empty,” but it’s the battlefield on which presidencies are won.
