Politics of dissatisfaction - public uneasiness with a lack of solutions to social and economic problems - Column

USA Today (Society for the Advancement of Education), Nov, 1993 by Robert J. Bresler

EVEN IN THE BEST of times, Americans rarely are reluctant to express their dissatisfaction with the state of the country. In the halcyon years of the late 1950s, commissions, foundations, and pundits decried the lack of a national purpose. They considered the Eisenhower years a period of drift--a flaccid era compared to the resolute 1940s. During the 1960s, urban riots assumed a greater reality than the economic prosperity that simply was taken for granted. During the boom years of the 1980s, the media was rife with stories about the decade of greed, selfish yuppies, and the sleaze in Washington.

Contemporary America seems more ill at ease with itself than it was in the past. In some ways, this is perplexing. The Cold War is over; the terrifying nuclear arms race has ended; America achieved a startlingly easy military victory in the Gulf War; medical technology and more intelligent habits of living are allowing many to live far into their retirement years; the air and water are cleaner than they have been in decades; more Americans are in the upper middle classes than ever before; the traditional barriers against women and minorities in professional schools and the workplace have been swept away; and the degree of cultural freedom of expression would amaza (and perhaps horrify) our grandparents.

The current sense of dissatisfaction, however, can not be ascribed to the spoiled and dyspeptic nature of a pampered public. The U.S. is in the midst of far-reaching change that is hard to articulate or comprehend. The end of the Cold War and the collapse of communism have robbed Americans of a common purpose; the decline of the traditional family has weakened their moorings; children are raised in a confused and permissive moral climate without a clear sense of limits; the defense industry in in decline, throwing thousands of skilled professionals out of work; large corporations such as IBM, Sears, and General Motors are fighting for their lives and no longer can offer their employees lifetime security; and the inner cities never have been more dangerous.

The 1990s are unfolding as a dispirited decade that provides fertile ground for the politics of anger and resentment. The persistent support for Ross Perot goes far beyond a lack of enthusiasm for George Bush and now Bill Clinton; the election of independent non-political businessmen as the mayors of Jersey City and Los Angeles was a sharp repudiation of traditional liberal urban politicians; liberal politicians themselves, supported by unionists and environmentalists, are rejecting their long-standing support of free trade and opposing with some ferocity the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA); nativist anger against new immigrants could lead to the toughest immigration laws since the 1920s; opposition to new taxes signifies deep public skepticism about the government's ability to solve social problems; and the country's love affair with its new president was one of the briefest on record.

How does one govern in such a climate? Power in Washington never has been more diffuse. The model of an aggressive president and a passive Congress that once dominated the textbooks is far outmoded. Neither party has a clear sense of where it wants to go. The Democrats are in firm numerical control of the presidency, and Congress lacks the purpose and clear agenda that drove the Roosevelt, Truman, Kennedy, and Johnson years.

As Clinton has learned, the introduction of a presidential budget is just one more event in a complex legislative process and not necessarily the main event. The Clinton budget plan, stripped of its most controversial features, such as the stimulus package and the BTU tax, survived by the barest of margins. The public was treated to the spectacle of the President giving away favors on demand to wavering members such as tax credits for research and development for freshman Sen. Dianne Feinstein (D.-Calif.) and a ban on the use of growth hormones on cows for freshman Sen. Russell Feingold (D.-Wis.). This presidential fecklessness was matched by the display of Congressional leaders strong-arming inexperienced new members such as Rep. Marjorie Margolies-Mezvinsky (D.-Pa.) to cast the crucial vote after pledging otherwise to her constituents. All of this exposed a Democratic Party torn between a moderate wing that wants deeper spending cuts and few, if any, new taxes, and a liberal wing, led by the powerful Congressional Black Caucus, that demands more social spending.

The Republican Party, although unified in its opposition to the Clinton budget, has presented the public with few clear alternatives. Can the Republicans articulate a clear path to deficit reduction other than a vague reliance on spending caps? Do they have a plan to re-invigorate an economy weakened by defense cuts, corporate restructuring, global recession, and educational deficits? Who among the Republicans is thinking seriously about a national security strategy in a world where old paradigms have faded? If the Republican Party buys into the view that health care coverage must be universal, how do they intend to pay for it? Voucher plans for education, housing, or health care, Jack Kemp's favorite nostrums, cost money. Do the Republicans who support this approach have any idea where it is going to come from?