A Night to Remember
My original plans for election night included running back home to attend a meeting for parents of gifted and talented children and then hustling back later for what promised to be an all-nighter as results were tabulated. However, the elements--namely a deluge that tied up traffic--quickly persuaded me to turn around. It took me almost an hour to get back to NRLC headquarters.
As I drove back, I passed by the mall where we took our kids when they were little for a snack and a visit to B. Dalton's. For some reason the sight of the hill on which they would run up and down after consuming their little treats took me back to election night 1992, arguably the low point in my 25 years in the Movement.
Knowing what was coming, I had decided to go home and pick up my son from soccer practice. David, then a little tyke, sensing that something was wrong with dad, asked me what had happened.
As we ate our supper-on-the-run, I explained as gently as I could that a good and decent pro-life man was about to be defeated for President by a not very good or decent pro-abortion man. In a conversation I shall never forget, my young son decided his old man needed a pep talk.
As well as an eight-year-old could, David told me to keep my chin up and never forget that someday we will win for the babies. "Out of the mouths of babes," I thought then and now.
With the 2002 elections now behind us, it's worth remembering that hindsight, contrary to cliche, is not 20-20. Often times the after-the-fact interpretation of events is even more silly than predictions of what is to come. Not infrequently that is because observers exchange one set of questionable conventional wisdoms for another. So we must always be very careful to sift truth from fiction, not just prior to the elections, but subsequently as well.
I will attempt to follow pro-life President George W. Bush's admonition not to boast or gloat. But I would not be doing my job if I didn't try to convey the importance, the magnitude of what he and you, working together, were able to accomplish against all odds.
We were told ad nauseam that President Bush's Republican Party would lose a couple of seats in the House, although it would be a relatively long shot for Democrats to reassume control of the House which they had ruled like maharajahs for almost a half century until 1994. But it was even more unlikely, we were told, that Republicans could wrestle control of the Senate away from the Democrats, who held a slim one-vote margin.
But, consider. The Republicans enjoyed a mere six-vote majority in the House. The average loss for a first-term President in his off-year elections is 22 seats. Before the first election was even settled, pundits were already implicitly conceding that President Bush was poised to score a major victory by minimizing his losses. In truth, Republicans did not lose at all, but gained 6-7 seats!
In the Senate, the usual loss for the President's party is two. At the very least, President Bush's party will gain two seats, three if it wins a special election in Louisiana.
Most important, pro-lifers are up two to five in the House, two in the Senate. A pro-life President no longer has a 180-pound anchor shackled to his ankles: A pro-life Republican will take the gavel from pro-abortion Senator Tom Daschle (D-SD), whose disastrous miscalculations helped Republicans depose him as Majority Leader.
Many people have written to me to comment on a series of Today's News & Views that I wrote to give my take on how the elections turned out. (Go to www.nrlc.org, and check November 6-8. Be sure to sign up to automatically receive this daily web feature.) My emphasis was and is on Minnesota for what I hope will become obvious reasons.
What happened in my home state is emblematic of what is sapping the strength of both the Democratic Party (which ought to be pro-life!) and the Abortion Lobby. Not only is the varsity old and getting older, the JV shows no promise of ever being ready for prime time.
Norm Coleman, the pro-life Republican former mayor of St. Paul, was locked in a very tight, very competitive contest with incumbent Paul Wellstone on October 25, the senator, his wife, daughter, members of his campaign staff, and crew were tragically killed in a plane crash. It was a sad, sad day for Minnesotans.
The Establishment instantly turned to Mondale who, before he was Jimmy Carter's vice president, was a popular senator from Minnesota. Although the race was much closer than either the slavishly pro-abortion local media or the Mondale forces thought, it was probably an uphill fight for Coleman.
And then came a memorial service for Wellstone that turned into a shameless, tasteless, partisan pep rally. That night, when I heard about the boos that had greeted Republicans, I turned to my wife and said with absolute conviction, "Norm Coleman is the next senator from Minnesota."
If there were any doubts, they were settled the day before the election when the two squared off for their one and only debate.
To be fair Coleman had been campaigning for two years. You would expect him to be sharper and quicker and more knowledgeable than Mondale, who'd been out of the give and take of electoral politics for a decade. And he was.
Such debates, it's worth remembering, are not just about firing up your own troops. It's mandatory to do as little as possible to provoke your opponent's supporters and act in a manner that attracts independents. Mondale did little to excite his people, annoyed and outraged Coleman supporters with his smug superiority, and offered zero to fence sitters. His answer to the abortion question illustrated perfectly his weaknesses as a candidate and as a pro-abortionist.
Mondale came out of his corner on the attack, launching the usual combination of rabbit punches and occasional shot below the belt. Coleman, by contrast, treated him with kid gloves--very, very respectfully, even deferentially.
After a particularly testy Mondale assault, Coleman responded gently that this was exactly the kind of "tone" in Washington that needed to be changed. Later, when Coleman inquired if there wasn't ANY common ground - - partial-birth abortions, parental notification - - Mondale danced around the question, and criticized Coleman for "standing with the right-to-life crowd."
When responding as if reading cue cards, Mondale was disjointed but within bounds. But then came a turning point. Mondale made the mistake of snootily telling Coleman, "You have been an arbitrary right-to-lifer. I am not, and that's one of the big, many issues that divide us."
A moment later, eyes flashing, Coleman responded,
"Let me just finish off on that issue, if I may, Mr. Vice President. And I would take exception, I'll use a kind word, to the description of an arbitrary [pro-lifer].
"My wife and I have had two children who were born, first son and the last daughter. They died at very young ages. I have a deep and profound respect for the value of life; it's not arbitrary.
"But even on that issue, I think we can and should look to find common ground, but please, don't describe it as arbitrary."
Point, set, match. Score one for civility, calmness, and an honest search for common ground.
The reason Mondale stumbled so badly was not that his position on abortion was little more than a string of catch phrases strung together, although that couldn't have helped. Nor did he shoot himself in the foot because he shamelessly played to the Abortion Lobby, although that probably did not go unnoticed by thoughtful observers in the middle.
Mondale struck out swinging because he was as arrogant as he was inarticulate, as dismissive as he was incoherent, and as condescending as he was smug. "Everyone's with me," his tone conveyed, "except that itsy bitsy right-to-life crowd."
Coleman hit a home run because he both showed his opponent respect and demonstrated a sincere willingness to try to find areas of common agreement even with someone who likely would never prohibit a single abortion for any reason. That honest search to find a starting point from which everyone but militant pro-abortionists can agree is exactly what most non-partisans want.
Which is so ironic because at least one strain of Democratic Party thinking insists they must continue to move to the "middle." But even these people take it for granted that support for unlimited abortion is the middle, the kind of position that resonates with an American that appears to be hewing ever closer to middle of the road positions on issues.
It's ironic because most Americans are far closer to our position than to Planned Parenthood's or NARAL's or, for that matter, Walter Mondale's. Add to that our willingness to take one step at a time--and the Abortion Establishment's hysterical resistance to any limitations on abortion on demand--and it's obvious why someday we will carry the day. They have boxed themselves into a corner.
November 5 was a great day for the cause of unborn babies, thanks to our great pro-life President Bush, pro-life candidates such as Norm Coleman, and you. Keep at it. Thanks to that selfless devotion, we've got the "Big Mo."
dave andrusko can be reached at dha1245@juno.com