Sen. Bernie Sanders. (photo: Win McNamee/Getty)
29 April 15
any
years ago I pitched a magazine editor on a story about Bernie Sanders,
then a congressman from Vermont, who'd agreed to something extraordinary
– he agreed to let me, a reporter, stick next to him without restrictions over the course of a month in congress.
"People need to know how this place works. It's absurd," he'd said. (Bernie often uses the word absurd, his Brooklyn roots coming through in his pronunciation – ob-zert.)
Bernie wasn't quite so famous at the time and the
editor scratched his head. "Bernie Sanders," he said. "That's the one
who cares, right?"
"Right, that's the guy," I said.
I got the go-ahead and the resulting story was a wild
journey through the tortuous bureaucratic maze of our national
legislature. I didn't write this at the time, but I was struck every day
by what a strange and interesting figure Sanders was.
Many of the battles he brought me along to witness, he
lost. And no normal politician would be comfortable with the optics of
bringing a Rolling Stone reporter to a Rules Committee hearing.
But Sanders genuinely, sincerely, does not care about
optics. He is the rarest of Washington animals, a completely honest
person. If he's motivated by anything other than a desire to use his
influence to protect people who can't protect themselves, I've never
seen it. Bernie Sanders is the kind of person who goes to bed at night
thinking about how to increase the heating-oil aid program for the poor.
This is why his entrance into the 2016 presidential race
is a great thing and not a mere footnote to the inevitable coronation
of Hillary Clinton as the Democratic nominee. If the press is smart
enough to grasp it, his entrance into the race makes for a profound
storyline that could force all of us to ask some very uncomfortable
questions.
Here's the thing: Sanders is a politician whose power
base is derived almost entirely from the people of the state of Vermont,
where he is personally known to a surprisingly enormous percentage of
voters.
His chief opponents in the race to the White House,
meanwhile, derive their power primarily from corporate and financial
interests. That doesn't make them bad people or even bad candidates
necessarily, but it's a fact that the Beltway-media cognoscenti who
decide these things make access to money the primary factor in
determining whether or not a presidential aspirant is "viable" or
"credible." Here's how the Wall Street Journal put it in their story about Sanders (emphasis mine):
It is unclear how much money Mr. Sanders expects to raise, or what he thinks he needs to run a credible
race. Mr. Sanders raised about $7 million for his last re-election in
Vermont, a small state. Sums needed to run nationally are far larger.
The Washington/national press has trained all of us to
worry about these questions of financing on behalf of candidates even
at such an early stage of a race as this.
In this manner we're conditioned to believe that the
candidate who has the early assent of a handful of executives on Wall
Street and in Hollywood and Silicon Valley is the "serious" politician,
while the one who is merely the favorite of large numbers of human
beings is an irritating novelty act whose only possible goal could be to
cut into the numbers of the real players.
Sanders offers an implicit challenge to the current
system of national electoral politics. With rare exceptions, campaign
season is a time when the backroom favorites of financial interests are
marketed to the population. Weighed down by highly regressive policy
intentions, these candidates need huge laboratories of focus groups and
image consultants to guide them as they grope around for a few lines
they can use to sell themselves to regular working people.
Sanders on the other hand has no constituency among
the monied crowd. "Billionaires do not flock to my campaign," he
quipped. So what his race is about is the reverse of the usual
process: he'll be marketing the interests of regular people to the
gatekeeping Washington press, in the hope that they will give his ideas a
fair shot.
It's a little-known fact, but we reporters could
successfully sell Sanders or Elizabeth Warren or any other populist
candidate as a serious contender for the White House if we wanted to.
Hell, we told Americans it was okay to vote for George Bush, a man who
moves his lips when he reads.
But the lapdog mentality is deeply ingrained and most
Beltway scribes prefer to wait for a signal from above before they agree
to take anyone not sitting atop a mountain of cash seriously.
Thus this whole question of "seriousness" – which will
dominate coverage of the Sanders campaign – should really be read as a
profound indictment of our political system, which is now so openly an
oligarchy that any politician who doesn't have the blessing of the
bosses is marginalized before he or she steps into the ring.
I remember the first time I was sold on Bernie Sanders
as a politician. He was in his congressional office and he was ranting
about the fact that many of the manufacturing and financial companies
who asked him and other members of congress for tax breaks and aid were
also in the business of moving American jobs overseas to places like
China.
Sanders spent years trying to drum up support for a
simple measure that would force any company that came to Washington
asking for handouts to promise they wouldn't turn around and ship jobs
to China or India.
That didn't seem like a lot to ask, but his fellow
members treated him like he was asking for a repeal of the free
enterprise system. This issue drove Sanders crazy. Again showing his
Brooklyn roots, Bernie gets genuinely mad about these things. While some
pols are kept up at night worrying
about the future profitability of gazillionaire banks, Sanders seethes
over the many obvious wrongs that get smoothed over and covered up at
his place of work.
That saltiness, I'm almost sure of it, is what drove
him into this race. He just can't sit by and watch the things that go
on, go on. That's not who he is.
When I first met Bernie Sanders, I'd just spent over a
decade living in formerly communist Russia. The word "socialist"
therefore had highly negative connotations for me, to the point where I
didn't even like to say it out loud.
But Bernie Sanders is not Bukharin or Trotsky. His
concept of "Democratic Socialism" as I've come to understand it over the
years is that an elected government should occasionally step in and
offer an objection or two toward our progress to undisguised oligarchy.
Or, as in the case of not giving tax breaks to companies who move
factories overseas, our government should at least not finance the disappearance of the middle class.
Maybe that does qualify as radical and unserious
politics in our day and age. If that's the case, we should at least
admit how much trouble we're in.
Congratulations, Bernie. Good luck and give 'em hell.
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