Outsider in the White House (22 page)

I was aware that, over the years, the most progressive positions in Congress had been articulated by the Black Caucus. For decades it had done an excellent job in fighting not only for the needs of the black community, but for the needs of low- and moderate-income people of all races.

When I was mayor, I became aware of the “alternative budget” introduced by the Black Caucus every year. In this document, they showed how we could increase funding for affordable housing, community and urban development, health care, education, and the general needs of low- and moderate-income Americans by shifting the funding priorities of Congress. In a very simple and effective manner, their “alternative budget” exposed the moral bankruptcy of congressional priorities. It was a terrific initiative and was widely used by political activists all over the country. For years the Black Caucus had been, in effect,
the
progressive caucus in Congress.

But not every progressive in Congress is black, and so it seemed to me an important step forward to develop a caucus which brought
all
progressives together—white, black, Hispanic, Asian, male, and female—so that we could stand together in fighting for rational priorities.

Obviously, the Black Caucus will always focus its attention on the particular needs of the black community, the Hispanic Caucus on the particular needs of Hispanics, the Women's Caucus on the particular needs of women. A Progressive Caucus, however, would try, on an ideological and class basis, to represent
all
Americans who were struggling to obtain a decent standard of living. I bounced the idea of a progressive caucus off some of my friends.

One of the first members I talked to was Ron Dellums of California. Ron is one of the great heroes in the United States Congress. For twenty years he has been a leading voice in the struggle for a world of peace and social justice. He entered Congress from the Berkeley area and was already well known for his opposition to the war in Vietnam, and for his struggles against racism. He has continued to fight for justice, year after year.

I also talked to Peter DeFazio of Oregon, who was one of two members of Congress to endorse me when I ran in 1990. (Barney Frank was the other.) I didn't know Peter well then, but he has since become a very close friend. He represents a rural district in Oregon that, in many ways, is similar to Vermont. We end up approaching many issues with a similar outlook. Peter has been especially strong in the fight against corporate welfare, and on trade and the environment.

Then there was Lane Evans, a Vietnam-era veteran from Illinois who had one of the strongest anti-Reagan voting records in Congress. Lane received national recognition for leading the effort to expose the Pentagon's cover-up of the Agent Orange fiasco, and has been a leading voice for veterans throughout his tenure. (He is also a good landlord. I live in the basement apartment of his house.)

Finally, I approached Maxine Waters of California, who came into Congress the same time as I did and sits next to me on the Banking Committee. Maxine was well known as a powerful progressive voice in the California State Assembly, and firebrand advocate for low-income people. She was born in a low-income housing development, and did not forget where she came from.

We five got together and formed the Progressive Caucus. Over the years the group grew slowly and steadily, so that by the time our largest battle took place—against Newt Gingrich and his reactionary “Contract with America”— we were fifty-two members strong. I was elected chairman of the Caucus in 1991 and have held that position since.

In addition to the founders, other members of Congress who have been active in the Progressive Caucus include Major Owens, Maurice Hinchey, Cynthia McKinney, Nydia Valazques, Lynn Woolsey, Bob Filner, Jerry Nadler, Eleanor Holmes Norton, Barney Frank, Marcy Kaptur, and Jesse Jackson, Jr.

In October 1992 I got my first major piece of legislation through the Congress when the National Cancer Registries Act was signed into law by President Bush. Every so often, Congress actually works the way it is supposed to: ordinary citizens see the need for new legislation to tackle a problem, approach their elected representatives, and their proposal gets translated into law. This was the genesis of the National Cancer Registries Act.

In 1991, a number of Vermont women became concerned that the mortality rate for breast cancer in Vermont was extremely high, and significantly higher than in the rest of the country. Why was this and what could be done about it? Led by three breast cancer survivors—Joann Rathgeb, who eventually died after a courageous battle with cancer, Patricia Barr, and Virginia Soffa—these Vermont women mounted a strong educational campaign in the state and a petition drive that secured thousands of names. Their demand was the establishment of a national cancer registry.

I learned from these women that the United States was far behind most major countries in keeping uniform statistics on who was contracting cancer, their place of residence, their occupation, the types of treatment they were receiving, and the effectiveness of the treatment. Clearly, if researchers are going to get a better handle on the causes of cancer, and the most effective ways of dealing with it, we need more information.

What does it mean that certain types of cancer are more prevalent in Vermont than in California? What is the relationship between environmental degradation and cancer? Are people working at certain types of jobs more likely to come down with particular types of cancer than people working at other jobs? Are people living near landfills or incinerators more likely to develop cancer?

If we had uniform national statistics, would we learn more about the connection between diet and cancer, and lifestyle and cancer? Would we discover more geographical “clusters” of certain types of cancer? Are there reliable national statistics about the rate of cure for one type of procedure as opposed to another?

Given the fact that one American in three is expected to develop some type of cancer in his or her lifetime, these issues are of enormous consequence. I learned about the problem not only from women in Vermont, but from trade unionists in the Oil, Chemical and Atomic Workers Union. The people in their union do work that exposes them to a lot of unhealthy substances, and they have great difficulty in getting information from their employers about the rate and kinds of cancer workers in their union are developing. Workers all over the country face similar obstacles.

This issue is especially important to me because I have long been interested in preventive health care measures. This country spends $1 trillion a year on health care, and almost all of it goes into treatment. We spend relatively little trying to prevent disease—whether it is cancer, heart disease, or the common cold. In the long run we can eliminate much human suffering, and great cost, if we better understand the
causation
of disease.

After undertaking some research, we found that only ten states in the country had effective cancer registries. And while some national statistics were being tabulated by the National Cancer Institute, they ignored 90 percent of the population. In early 1992, I introduced the Cancer Registries Amendment Act. The bill was later introduced in the Senate by my Vermont colleague Senator Patrick Leahy. As a result of some excellent work by my staff member Katie Clarke, we picked up strong support from physicians and health care organizations all across the country. Then we had a stroke of good fortune.

In their June 1992 issue,
Reader's Digest
ran a lead article by Dr. John H. Healey, of the Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center, titled “The Cancer Weapon America Needs Most.” And what was that weapon? The passage of the Cancer Registries Amendment Act of 1992. The
Reader's Digest
also ran full-page ads in the
New York Times
and other papers discussing that article. We could not have asked for better publicity. Soon, letters of support for the legislation began flooding the Capitol.

The legislation wound its way through the committee process, winning support as it proceeded. Unfortunately, we were heading into the very end of the session, and it was likely that time would run out before we got a vote on the floor of the House. If that were the case, I would have to start all over again—assuming I was reelected.

There we were on the very last night of the session, with Congress rushing toward adjournment. At this point in the legislative process, the only legislation passed is through “unanimous consent.” There is no time for debate or vote taking. The only bills that pass have got to win support from the floor leaders of both parties, with no opposition from any member, even one who only wants to see the bill debated. If there is any objection to “unanimous consent,” the bill is dead.

At four o'clock in the morning, I was desperately trying to figure out how I could get my bill on the floor and secure unanimous consent. The Democrats were amenable to bringing it up, but the Republican floor leader was William Dannemeyer of California, one of the most right-wing members of the Congress. He only had to say “I object,” and it was all over for the session. Frankly, I thought I would do the bill more harm than good if I approached Dannemeyer alone. He and I did not see eye to eye on most things.

My heroine of the hour, the person who saved the day (or rather the night), was Representative Mary Rose Oakar of Ohio. Mary Rose, who served with me on the Banking Committee, literally took me by the hand and led me to the Republican offices off the floor, where we discussed the issue with the Republican staff. She personally intervened with Dannemeyer and other Republicans and, I believe, even tried to call Dannemeyer's wife. (I don't remember if she ever got through.) In any case, on the morning of the last day of the session, the legislation was approved by voice vote with no objections. I was a sleepy but happy congressman. I believe that the National Cancer Registries Amendment was the second-to-last piece of legislation passed in the House in the 102nd Congress. Today, as a result of that legislation, and some $50 million in appropriations, almost every state in America now has an effective cancer registry and researchers are gaining valuable information from the data.

In 1992, two Republicans were vying for the right to oppose me in the general election: Tim Philbin, a right-wing Christian Coalition type, and Jeff Wennberg, the conservative mayor of Rutland, the state's second largest city. No strong Democrat entered the race. A relatively unknown candidate from Brattleboro, Lew Young, put his name into the Democratic primary.

Both Philbin and Wennberg had their strengths. Philbin was a dynamic speaker and had strong, conservative grassroots support. Wennberg, on the other hand, was an experienced politician and, as the Establishment candidate, would receive substantial funding from the monied interests.

Philbin won the Republican primary. Consistent with his ideology, he opposed a woman's right to abortion, even in the case of incest and rape. In Vermont, every statewide officeholder was pro-choice. It was very definitely the prevailing opinion in the state. Moreover, on a variety of issues Philbin was out of touch with the Vermont Republican Establishment, and he got little support from them.

On November 3, I was reelected as Vermont's congressman. The results were Sanders 58 percent, Philbin 31 percent, and Young 8 percent.

Last month, the
Rutland Herald
ran a detailed article by Diane Derby contrasting my views on abortion with Sweetser's. My position is that a woman's decision whether to have an abortion is a private one, and that this principle must hold true for all women, regardless of income. Susan Sweetser is a “moderate” Republican and describes herself as pro-choice. On the surface, our positions appear similar. But there is one significant difference: Sweetser opposes the use of Medicaid funds for abortion. She supports a woman's right to an abortion, but only if that woman can afford to pay for one. So, while our positions seem similar, there is a very real difference between us. The
Herald
article made that clear.

Unfortunately, serious articles that explore, in detail, the difference in positions between the candidates are few and far between. We need more of that kind of writing, and less emphasis on campaign gossip.

On the subject of women's issues, one of the more gratifying aspects of the campaign so far is that we are winning very strong support from women and women's organizations—despite my running against a female candidate who has been active in victim's rights activities. Poll after poll shows the “gender gap” to be enormous. We're ahead with women by as much as two to one, while we're barely winning among men. We have also been endorsed by the National Organization of Women (NOW), the National Abortion Rights Action League (NARAL), and the Business and Professional Women's Association. Sweetser has won the backing of the National Women's Political Caucus, which only endorses women candidates.

Over the years my office has played a very strong role in the fight for women's rights. I not only have a 100 percent voting record on women's issues, but have worked hard and successfully on women's health matters and against domestic violence. The women of Vermont know that. Furthermore, most women understand that it is hard for a candidate to be “pro-woman” while supporting a political party that wants a constitutional amendment to ban abortion and is waging war against low-income workers and Medicare recipients, who are mostly women, as well as single mothers and their kids.

Yipes. I'm the subject of a major editorial in the
Wall Street Journal
. I'm pissed. Not only is the content absurd, but the picture they run of me stinks. Now why is the
Wall Street Journal
, the voice of corporate America, worried about the congressional race in little old Vermont? Don't they have bigger things to worry about? Well, in truth, they're really not too concerned about me, they
are
on to bigger things.

In an editorial which refers to me as “the nation's highest-ranking socialist elected official,” the
Journal
is despondent over the fact that the national Democratic Party and President Clinton are not supporting Jack Long—the Democratic candidate for Congress. See, we told you all along, suggest these perceptive editorial writers. That Clinton, those Democrats, they say they're “moderates,” but when given a choice between a moderate Democrat and a socialist, whom do they choose?

Yup. The Democrats are backing an incumbent, favored to win, who helped lead the opposition to Gingrich rather than a candidate nobody's ever heard of who is running 6 percent in the polls. Big surprise. Clinton and his friends may not be too progressive, but they ain't dumb. Interestingly, this was the exact theme used in an editorial in the extreme right-wing Moonie newspaper, the
Washington Times
, a few weeks earlier. I wonder. Is this the prelude to a national Republican redbaiting ad campaign? Are we going to see thirty-second TV ads all over America on how Clinton is supporting a socialist?

Of course, I have been winning the support of Vermont progressive Democrats for years, and have worked on a number of important issues with Democrats in the legislature like Cheryl Rivers, Liz Ready, and Dick McCormick. We have our differences, but we've found it mutually advantageous, and in the best interests of Vermont, to work together when we can.

Generally speaking, what appears in the
Wall Street Journal
is of no concern to me. I'd estimate that over 98 percent of the people in Vermont do not read the
Journal
—and most of those who do aren't going to vote for me in any case. So the editorial by itself doesn't mean much. But what happens is that this sort of attention from the national press can become a focus for political gossip in Vermont. The very fact of the
Wall Street Journal
carrying a story on a Vermont issue may well become news in the state.

Shortly after its appearance, the
Journal
's analysis gets picked up by the Vermont media, and my office receives umpteen calls on the now-famous “Jack Long story”: “How come Sanders has the support of many leading Democrats in Vermont while Jack Long, a Democrat, doesn't?” (To the best of my knowledge, Governor Dean is the only major Democrat to come out for him.) The fact that I won widespread support from Democrats in 1988, 1990, 1992, and 1994 is now forgotten, and we're starting this discussion all over again.

And what a strange discussion it is. Here is a man who has yet to hold a press conference explaining his position on any issue since he announced his candidacy, a man who has raised almost no money, a man who is between 4 and 8 percent in the polls—and yet the great unexplained point of interest turns out to be—remarkably—why Democrats will not support him. The recirculation of superficial punditry never stops. Story after story appears in the
Burlington Free Press
and elsewhere, and the issue attracts the attention of the largest television station in the state.

WCAX-TV calls for a comment on the
Journal
. I'm not particularly interested in discussing political gossip. What do I have to say that hasn't been said ten times before? But I'm ready to deal. I'll give them a response if I'm also allowed to say a few words about something substantive—something that might actually be of interest to someone. “If you allow me to discuss a recent press release I just sent out,” I say, “I'll talk about the editorial.” My press release was critical of a Pentagon policy that is farming out billions in Defense Department contract work to countries abroad, work that should be done in this country by American workers. At a time when the defense industry is laying off tens of thousands of American workers, it's an issue of real concern—especially in a state with several defense plants. The reporter calls back and we have a deal. They get their comment on the absurd
Wall Street Journal
editorial and I get a decent story about something relevant.

Not only did we make the
Journal
last week, but we also made the
New York Times
. The
Times
, covering “all the news that's fit to print” got the scoop. As careful as they are perceptive, the paper calls me to confirm the story. Their details are accurate. “Yes, it was me. I did it. I really was the back half of the tiger in the Bread and Puppet Circus that took place in Glover, Vermont, a week ago.” I had been asked, not for the first time, to participate in the huge outdoor drama/celebration, and had been cast in the role of the hind end of a large tiger puppet. (It's better than being a horse's ass.) I told the writer the whole story, and he wrote a few lines about it in the Chronicle column. He also quoted me accurately: “As for the conventions, Mr. Sanders said: ‘I'm the luckiest man in the U.S. Congress. I'm not in Chicago, and I didn't go to San Diego.'”

There was a story here, but it is not about me. The Bread and Puppet Domestic Resurrection Circus, an annual two-day gathering in August, is put on by a radical theatrical troupe that, traveling from its base in Vermont, performs street theater all over the globe. On this occasion it brought out between twenty and thirty thousand people to Glover—a beautiful town in the north of the state. The Bread and Puppet theater—founded by Peter Schumann—is a political company whose accomplished theatrical productions are truly radical. They are especially well known for their huge masks and the performers who wear them while walking on stilts. Bread and Puppet does a tremendous job, and we in Vermont are very proud of them.

While there are many out-of-staters at the festival, the number of Vermonters who attend the Bread and Puppet Circus always amazes me. In the week since my appearance as the back end of a tiger I have been stopped a dozen times by people who told me that they saw me there. I'm not sure how many of them actually heard my fourteen-second speech about the dangers of Newt Gingrich, given when I stepped out of my tiger costume. (The Bread and Puppet Circus is performed without electricity or microphones.) Still, it was great to be there.

My son Levi was with me at the event. Levi works full time for the Chittenden County Emergency Food Shelf, but whenever he can get a free weekend, he travels with me around the state. I enjoy his company a lot, and he helps me by doing most of the driving and by working the crowds: handing out buttons and bumper stickers while I shake hands. With the enormous crowd in Glover, we had four other campaign workers there. It's a great place to campaign.

One of the fun aspects of being a congressman is the different kinds of people that I meet. After we left Glover, Levi and I took a beautiful drive across the width of the state to Swanton, which is located in northwest Vermont, just south of the Canadian border. I often think how lucky I am not only to live in Vermont, but to campaign there. Driving along beautiful Vermont country roads in August, as the sun goes down, just ain't hard work. It's exactly the kind of thing I would do if I never ran for office. In the back of the car I always have a bathing suit, and it's not uncommon for us to stop midday on the campaign trail and jump into a nearby lake or river.

My business in Swanton that Saturday night was to address members of the Missisquoi Valley Emergency Rescue Service. The contrast between the huge crowd of the afternoon and the dinner event of the evening, attended by forty or so members of the rescue service, was striking, from radical theatrics to community-based service. (Interestingly, the differences strike me as more superficial than deep: both the rescue workers and the drama troupe are focused on giving, on giving of themselves to build community.) The rescue workers are all volunteers. Their work is difficult and emotionally traumatic. Since Interstate 89 passes right through Swanton, serious highway accidents are not uncommon. These men and women are often the first people to arrive at the scene of an accident. They deal with life and death in the course of their work. At the dinner, person after person talked about the trauma of seeing people die and the joy of saving people's lives.

They were an impressive group of working people—young and old, men and women, with a strong pride and attachment to their community. Being among these people reminds me, once again, of why Vermont is such a good place to live: here is an organization whose members are not paid a nickel but serve the community because they care. There are hundreds of organizations like this one in the state.

While I have been going to county fairs, parades, “circuses,” banquets, picnics, and shopping centers all over Vermont, on the national scene something far more visible—and scripted—has been taking place. The last couple of weeks have witnessed both the Republican and Democratic conventions.

What was most noticeable about the Republican convention—I held a press conference on this—was the degree to which the Republicans were running away from who they are. They spent almost a week on prime-time TV erasing recent history and substituting image for actuality. The Republican Party established a record in the Congress over the last two years. Newt Gingrich and Dick Armey led what I believe is the most reactionary Congress in the modern history of the United States. Yet, when it came to the convention, these people, and the issues they advocated, disappeared entirely. I couldn't find them on CBS, NBC, ABC, or PBS. Puff. They were gone.

Two years previously, the Republicans were pushing large photos of hundreds of their candidates signing the “Contract with America.” Now, that term was never mentioned. Newt Gingrich was sidelined. Dick Armey was barely noticeable. Everything the two of them had fought for with the almost unanimous support of the Republican House was pushed into the hinterlands. It was as if two years of Republican legislative activity never existed. Even the Republican Party platform, which a majority of the delegates had just approved, was ignored. Golly. Bob Dole just didn't get around to reading it.

Instead, on center stage were people like Colin Powell—a black, pro-choice, pro–gun control, pro–affirmative action, moderate Republican. His views are not shared by more than 5 percent of the Republicans in Congress, but it was he and not the “revolutionary” Speaker of the House Newt Gingrich who gave the major speech. The keynote speaker was a pro-choice woman, Susan Molinari of New York.

As the selection of speakers and the entire tone of the GOP convention revealed, when the Republicans have to go beyond the narrow confines of congressional committees and $1,000-a-plate fundraisers and speak to tens of millions of ordinary Americans, they choose to hide who they are. In a five-day period, on prime-time TV, the Republicans went from a party of right-wing extremists to the center of the political spectrum.

The convention also showcased my opponent. In her ninety seconds on national TV, Sweetser said, “This will be an historic election. Why? Because we have the opportunity to replace the most liberal, most out-of-touch member of Congress. Bernie Sanders.” According to the Associated Press, “after mentioning his name, the crowd erupted in boos.” I must be doing something right. Sweetser got a lot of Vermont media coverage from her appearance in San Diego.

It was deeply depressing to see the Republican ticket go up fifteen points in the polls in the course of the convention—for no other reason than that the American people happened to see them on their television sets every night. It does make one think: What could happen, what would happen, in this country if progressives were allowed to have four or five nights of prime-time television and frontpage newspaper coverage? What would happen if we could present a point of view that most Americans are unfamiliar with? Would we suddenly become the dominant political force in America? No. Would millions of Americans develop a much more sympathetic attitude toward democratic socialism? Yes.