The long-haired, pot-smoking senator from South Dakota

Geez, I learn today that the Dean of the Washington Punditocracy has been singing the same, out-of-tune song for nearly four decades. And it wasn't any more coherent then, when it was fresh, than it is today.

Over the last few years, a false, simplified picture of American politics has been superimposed on the political realities. The rigid formulas and clichés that make up this false picture are familiar – all too familiar – to everybody. We are speaking of that view which divides all Americans into two groups – the wild men who oppose government policies and the responsible people who support government policies. On the one hand, the young, long-haired, loud-mouthed, pot-smoking extremists, on the other hand, the old, short-haired, reserved, cigar-smoking Establishmentarians. Abby Hoffman versus Mayor Daley. One of the people who fit the clichés least well is Senator McGovern. Senator McGovern takes a strong position against the war, yet his manner and temperament -- or "style" as these things are called – are notable for their steadiness and calm. This combination of content and "style" throws many political observers into confusion, because, according to the accepted beliefs of the day, anyone who opposes the war as forcefully as Senator McGovern does is bound to be an inflammatory, somewhat hysterical figure. Many commentators have run headlong into the horns of this apparent dilemma. One of the most recent casualties was David S. Broder, of the Washington Post, who wrote an article called "The Aspirants' Style," in which he compared the "styles" of Senator Muskie and Senator McGovern. Mr. Broder wrote that "McGovern's instinct is to pounce on an issue, Muskie's is to ponder it. Muskie's judgments seem more impressive, in part because they come rumbling up in that throbbing bass of his, while McGovern delivers his opinions in the voice of a tenor choirboy. But McGovern's are a darn sight plainer. There are many who suspect that in the end clarity may be McGovern's undoing....[sic] The prevailing wisdom in the Democratic Party is that Muskie's big-daddy moderation is more in keeping with the mood of the country than McGovern's brash-sounding prairie radicalism." But just a few sentences after referring to Senator McGovern as "brash-sounding," Mr. Broder assures us that McGovern isn't "the soft, sweet, simple clergyman's son he appears." In fact, Mr. Broder goes on, "he has an instinct for the political jugular and a talent for finding an issue." In conclusion, Mr. Broder says, "Given Muskie's lumbering caution, maybe it's well he has a terrier-like McGovern at his heels." What we seem to have here is a head-on collision of two clichés. On the one hand, because of his views, McGovern's "style" is seen as "brash-sounding" and "terrier-like." On the other hand, because of his quiet behavior, it is seen as appearing "soft, sweet, simple." Put it all together and you've got the soft, terrier-like, sweet, brash-sounding, simple tenor choirboy who represents the radical prairie state of South Dakota.

-Jonathan Schell, The New Yorker, February 13, 1971

It's interesting to dig through the rubble of the political establishment to see what was then on the verge of collapsing and find that Broder's instincts, even then, were to place the "aspirants' style" over their content on the single greatest issue of the day -- whether to end a war that was destroying or displacing millions of Vietnamese and killing tens of thousands of U.S. troops. One should never voice opposition to the president too loudly, or else risk being labelled a Dirty Fucking Hippy. Things haven't changed with Broder, even though Abby Hoffman is dead.