December 10, 1999
By James E. Garcia
I really didn't know what to expect, beyond what I have come to expect. Call me prejudiced, but I just can't help but feel a little uncomfortable at large Republican confabs.
Try as I might to blend, I somehow always managed to find myself sticking out like a sore, somewhat brown, thumb.
My latest misadventure happened at the first Republican presidential debate in Arizona last month. Since I live in the area, I thought I'd go down and try to catch a glimpse of the new kinder, compassionate and more inclusive GOP in action. (George W. Bush didn't attend, though he was scheduled to appear at the Dec. 6 debate in Arizona.)
The Republicans have been talking for some time about reaching out to minorities, so I assumed the candidates would do their best live up to the GOP legacy as "the party of Abraham Lincoln."
I arrived early. So before the debate got underway I took a few minutes to survey the audience. Okay, I admit it, I was desperately scouring the crowd for a trace, a hint, a clue of the broadening GOP tent another minority face.
Yes, this is what many, if not most, Latinos and other minorities still do in post-civil rights America to help allay the nascent anxiety that comes from the routine realization that "I am the only one."
The large concert hall where the debate was held was nearly full. It took a few minutes, but I finally spotted a Latino couple near the middle of the crowd and two African American men. Each had the same forlorn look in their eyes that seemed to cry out: "Am I the only one?"
For a fleeting moment, I made eye contact with the Latino man, who was sitting almost 50 feet away, and I think I even detected "the nod." You know, that knowing nod that "infiltrators" often share.
The debate went mostly as expected. Former Ambassador Alan Keyes—who is African American, but takes great pains to avoid ever mentioning that—delivered his typically sermonic condemnation of America's "moral crisis," complete with his Biblically-inspired pandemic: self-control. I can't help myself, but whenever anyone combines loud talk about God and self-control I'm reminded of the likes of Jimmy Swaggert or Jim Bakker.
Millionaire publisher Steve Forbes did his level best to verbally bash an absent George W. Bush bloody all without making his already tortured smile seem diabolical.
Utah Sen. Orrin Hatch spent a good chunk of his time citing statistics and protesting far too much against the charge that anyone in the Senate could possibly be influenced, or corrupted, by unlimited soft-money campaign contributions.
Arizona Sen. John McCain spent a good chunk of his time telling the audience what they already knew. That he's smart and tough, and that, believe it or not, unlimited soft-money does influence, and even corrupt, members of the Senate McCain included.
As a newsman, who happens to be Latino, I was especially struck by the topics that were not mentioned by the candidates.
For instance, Arizona has made headlines recently because its Southwest border is a major crossing point for illegal immigrants.At the same time, Arizona Gov. Jane Hull has thrown her support behind Congressional efforts to develop a "guest worker" program that would allow migrant laborers from Mexico and elsewhere to receive temporary work visas so they can work in the United States.Arizona also happens to be the next major battleground over the future of bilingual education.
The GOP candidates mentioned none of these issues.
I'm not saying the candidates should have spent a lot of their time haggling over these matters. They are, after all, trying to appeal to a national audience. But it would have been nice to hear them mention even one of them, particularly since Arizona's population is 20 percent Latino.
Then again, maybe the glare of the stage lights made it difficult for the candidates to see my two Latino friends and me amid the blinding sea of Anglo-Republican humanity in the auditorium.
Things didn't improve much after the debate. Most of the reporters' questions tended to expand on the topics already covered in the debate.
To be fair, there are good people in the Republican Party engaged in a sincere effort to broaden the GOP's base. But it may have been something Senator Hatch told me after the debate that left me feeling at the end of the night as alienated as when I walked through the door.
After I told him I published an English-language newsletter focusing on U.S. Latino politics, Hatch smiled, shook my hand and declared, "I'm for you people."
So why don't I feel good about that?
(Garcia is editor and publisher of Politico. E-mail Politico1@aol.com.)
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