On the Bus with Bradley - presidential candidate Bill Bradley

Progressive, The, March, 2000 by Ruth Conniff

I was standing next to Washington political analyst Stuart Rothenberg in New Hampshire when he started chuckling about the morley group of progressives out stumping for Bill Bradley. There's Senator Paul Wellstone, Democrat of Minnesota, who dropped out of the Presidential race himself because of his bad back and marched, with a pronounced limp, onto the stage for Bradley. Wellstone was followed by Representative Jerry Nadler, Democrat of New York, probably the roundest man in Congress, and by the diminutive Former Secretary of Labor Robert Reich, who made the obligatory short joke and endured a "high five" from the six-foot-six-inch candidate. Finally, there's the incomparable Cornel West, the African American Studies professor from Harvard, who at one event got so wound up while giving an introduction for Bradley that he began flapping his arms Vigorously like a bird about to take flight, shouting out that Bradley has gravitas, that he speaks veritas, that he shows caritas. "It's like the bar scene from Star Wars," Rothenberg chortled.

It's true, this is no hyper-slick, carefully produced, Al Gore-style campaign. These are my people--scruffy leftwingers, riled up about the possibility of enacting universal health care, ending child poverty, and launching a new, progressive era.

But why are they following Bradley? I chased the Bradley campaign through the early primary stares to try to find out.

Bradley was a pro-NAFTA, pro-contra, Reagan-tax-cutter during his days in the Senate. His campaign has as much money as the Al Gore fundraising juggernaut--about $20 million at last count, a big chunk of it from Bradley's buddies on Wall Street. At every Bradley event, I encountered a pack of his loyal Princeton classmates--amiable, S.U.V.-driving, wealthy white guys.

The Princeton alums like Bradley because he's a great athlete and a straight shooter. "It's amazing how many people who went to Princeton with him are now working for him," said Henry Von Kohorn, a Bradley classmate and commercial real estate developer from Westport, Connecticut, who was sitting next to me at the bar during Bradley's Super Bowl party in New Hampshire. "It doesn't matter what your politics are, he's a hero to people in my generation." Von Kohorn isn't even a Democrat, he told me, but Bradley's message about economic inequality got to him: "We have unparalleled prosperity in this country, and we've got to take care of the people who've been left behind," he said.

Our conversation was drowned out as the speakers blared the Rolling Stones' "Start Me Up" and Bradley arrived, to be mobbed by volunteers. As the Stones sang, "You make a grown man cry," Senator Bob Kerrey, Democrat of Nebraska, leapt on stage like a rock star to plug "the most incorruptible politician I've ever met." West took the stage next, and the mostly white, baseball-cap-wearing crowd went bananas. "Brother Bob Kerrey!" West yelled. (West's generous use of the word "brother" melts the hearts of white liberals everywhere he goes.) "We're going to begin the millennium with a new vision, that of universal health care! We won't let one child--black, white, red, whatever--live in poverty in America!"

While West revved up the rally with radical energy, the crowd seemed equally focused on the St. Louis Rams, and the idea that Bradley's political fate was somehow tied to their victory. Bradley was rooting for the St. Louis Rams, although they were the L.A. Rams when he lived in Missouri, against Gore's Tennessee Titans. He waved his Rams cap, announced that his team was ahead, and declared: "Just remember, the game isn't over till it's over. Just remember, we're on top! Let's go!" After every Rams touchdown, a chant went up: "Bradley! Bradley!" When St. Louis stopped Tennessee one yard short of the end zone to win the game, the place erupted. Down with Al Gore! Up with people!

None of this helps explain why Bradley is the progressive candidate.

In a quieter moment, West elaborated on his enthusiasm for Bradley, especially his health care plan: "It's a socialist program!" he whispered, leaning toward me conspiratorially.

Not everyone agrees. Bradley's plan to create health care vouchers and tax credits would transfer billions of dollars to insurance companies--a far cry from a Canadian-style single-payer system (see "Wrong Prescription: Bill Bradley's Health Plan Is No Cure," December issue).

But West, who fought for Clinton in 1992, and backed away in disgust after welfare reform and the oppressive crime bill, believes that Bradley is a better brand of Democrat. He likes it that Bradley would issue an Executive Order to end racial profiling and that he opposes unequal sentencing for crack and powder cocaine users.

"This country is coming out of an ice age in terms of compassion for poor people's suffering," West says. "We can all follow Paul Wellstone, but he can't win. You can follow me. I can't win--I'd get shot the first day I announced. Brother Bradley is wrong on a lot of issues, but he's the best progressive, at the moment." Once he takes office, progressives will have to "hold his feet to the fire" to do the right things, West says.