Deadlocked Needn't Mean D.O.A.

Some Democrats, foolishly super-optimistic in the latter part of 2007, now fret over the increasing likelihood of a Duel in Denver, and a party unable to nominate a candidate before its national convention. We are reminded, almost daily it seems, of the parallels between 2008 and 1952 (and, most recently, 1924) and the ominous signs a brokered convention gives followers for the fall. Or should we say, The Fall?

As posited here and elsewhere, this blogger considers himself second to none in terms of amateur presidential election knowledge and understanding: witness, again, repeated posts of the significant travails of Dems in open elections. Yet, as far as I can recall, I have not yet commented on the effect of a potential Democratic deadlock on November.

History is very clear on this point: acrimony in a "closed" presidential nominating contest is exceedingly bad news for either political party. The last three incumbent presidents to survive a tough challenge from the party's activist political base all fell to defeat in the general election, signaling more than a bit of distrust or disillusionment among the ideologues. George W. Bush, Bill Clinton, and Ronald Reagan did not face an intra-party challenge in the prelude to what became their second terms, and those three men won by three, eight, and nineteen points respectively. So what of open-year quarrels? A look at the modern era:

2004 D: John Kerry wins a relatively easy contest, loses in November
2000 D: Al Gore wins an easy contest, coin-flip loss in November
2000 R: GW Bush wins a slightly difficult contest, coin-flip win in November
1996 R: Bob Dole wins a relatively easy contest, loses in November
1992 D: Bill Clinton wins a slightly difficult contest, wins in November
1988 D: Mike Dukakis wins a slightly difficult contest, loses in November
1988 R: George Bush Sr wins a relatively easy contest, wins in November
1984 D: Walter Mondale wins a bruising contest, loses in November
1980 R: Ronald Reagan wins a relatively easy contest, wins in November

If the past is prologue, one may find very little for Democrats to worry about if neither Barack Obama nor Hillary Clinton accumulate the magic number of delegates by August. Or, perhaps more than a little:

2004: Harder road to nomination and eventual winner: D, R
2000: Harder road to nomination and eventual winner: R, R
1996: Harder road to nomination and eventual winner: R, D
1992: Harder road to nomination and eventual winner: D, D
1988: Harder road to nomination and eventual winner: D, R
1984: Harder road to nomination and eventual winner: D, R
1980: Harder road to nomination and eventual winner: D, R
1976: Harder road to nomination and eventual winner: R, D
1972: Harder road to nomination and eventual winner: D, R
1968: Harder road to nomination and eventual winner: D, R
1964: Harder road to nomination and eventual winner: R, D
1960: Harder road to nomination and eventual winner: D, D

So, by my admittedly abitrary estimate, the Democratic candidate has had to work harder than his Republican opponent eight times out of twelve. So, for our purposes, how did the Democrat do when forced to extend more energy? The verdict yields a rather ghastly mark of 2-6, as only Clinton in 1992 and John Kennedy in 1960 have managed to succeed in this respect. Republicans are no better at 1-3, Governor Bush in 2000 picking up the only W. It now seems safe to place 2008 in the Democratic column, once again, for the title of "hardest road to the nomination."

Historian Alan Lichtman and the MSM offer their perspectives.

In 1968, the open confrontation between not merely the party bosses and lesser Democrats in Chicago but the use of excessive police force in the streets, likely assisted Richard Nixon in his quest for victory. Nonetheless, Nixon won by a very narrow majority, and perhaps needed the southern candidacy of George Wallace to do it.

The year 2008 is not 1968.

In 1924, still recovering from the surprise of President Harding's death (Democrats had expected to run against the popular yet rapidly-becoming-tied-to-scandal chief executive and instead found themselves against a popular and untainted one), regionalism split the Democratic Party. Southerners, whom, by nature of the still extant 2/3 rule held veto power, refused to cast votes for the "wet" Al Smith of New York. Worse, their last vice presidential nominee, another charismatic New Yorker, remained sidelined with polio. The Wilson legacy, thoroughly if only temporarily discredited in the 1920 race, left no one as an obvious heir. In the end, lawyer John W. Davis emerged after a flurry of ballots, and promptly got destroyed by President Coolidge, gaining nothing from liberal Republican Robert Follette.

The year 1924 is not 2008.

True, it is rare to see a party's coalition split so evenly, but the animosity between men/women, blacks/hispanics, and the young/old is relatively minor compared to their anger, distrust, and collective bitterness over the Bush years. Even as a certain NYT columnist wonders aloud if Obama supporters will accept a defeat, Democrats know that aside from health care, not much separates the two candidates on the issues.

Only if the Clintons attempt to pull rank, i.e. using past relationships with superdelegates who make up the party they built in the 1990s and by trying to seat the rule-breaking delegations without a revote, thus to deny delegate-leader Obama a fair shake, will the party embarrass itself to voters when the Obama coalition, appropriately, cries foul.