Norman Solomon

Andrew

Jackson won the White House in 1828 with a fresh approach to oratory.

"Jackson was the first president to master the liberal rhetoric,"

wrote historian Howard Zinn, who called it "the new politics of ambiguity

— speaking for the lower and middle classes to get their support in times of

rapid growth and potential turmoil." Today, Al Gore and Bill Bradley are

running down a similar kind of rhetorical trail.

Major

presidential candidates — especially Democrats — are fond of claiming to

represent the interests of Americans far from the top of the economic ladder.

But a new book compiled by the Center for Public Integrity, "The Buying of

the President 2000," sheds bright light on the big money sources that have

propelled the political careers of high-profile contenders — two Democrats,

eight Republicans and Reform Party hopeful Patrick Buchanan.

None

of those candidates is closer to Wall Street, or more indebted to it, than Bill

Bradley. And yet, "the politics of ambiguity" generates so much fog on

the media landscape that quite a few people view him as a progressive

alternative.

Four

months ago, he appeared on the cover of Time. "The Man Who Could Beat

Gore," the headline declared. "Bill Bradley has the brains, the bio

and the bucks. But what’s really behind his hot streak?" The question never

got answered inside the magazine, which devoted several thousand words to

Bradley — while telling readers almost nothing about the monied special

interests behind him. The cover story began by lauding his

"high-mindedness" and "dogged integrity."

Some

normally sensible commentators have bought into such hype. Soon after the new

year began, the wonderful Molly Ivins put out a ridiculous column boosting

Bradley. "It’s always been clear that the man is a class act, without a

phony bone in his body," she wrote — about a man who has excelled at

scooping up many millions of corporate dollars while proclaiming devotion to the

common people.

In

the Senate, according to Ivins, "his most notable contribution was the Tax

Reform Act of 1986, simplifying the code and lowering the top brackets."

For a reality check, consider what the Center for Public Integrity says about

the fact that Bradley now presents himself as a foe of corporate tax shelters

and special-interest legislation: "Bradley is certainly an expert on the

subject. In 1986, he was the driving force behind the biggest tax giveaway to

special interests ever."

The

center reported that Sen. Bradley "was part of the greatest giveaway to

special interests in the history of the Internal Revenue Code. Buried in obscure

passages of the Tax Reform Act of 1986, of which Bradley indeed was the

architect, were hundreds of special breaks for well-connected individuals and

corporations." Back then, Bradley tried to justify those breaks — which

added up to at least $10.6 billion — calling them "a very small speck on

the larger map of what the bill means to the middle-income taxpayers and

low-income taxpayers across this country."

Andrew

Jackson would have appreciated the rhetoric.

In

Jackson’s time, historian Douglas Miller has pointed out, "both parties

aimed their rhetoric at the people and mouthed the sacred shibboleths of

democracy." But elites ruled. "Both major parties were controlled

largely by men of wealth and ambition. Lawyers, newspaper editors, merchants,

industrialists, large landowners, and speculators dominated the Democrats as

well as the Whigs."

In

terms of candor about economic leverage over the political process, how far have

we progressed?

Like

their potential GOP rivals, both Bradley and Gore are marching to the beat of

corporate drummers. What’s remarkable about Bradley is the extent to which many

progressive-minded Americans have clung to illusions about him — illusions that

could be dispelled by reading a chapter in "The Buying of the President

2000."

A

month after he retired from the Senate at the end of 1996, the book explains,

Bradley "was pulling in hundreds of thousands of dollars in consulting fees

from the same Wall Street brokerages whose practices he defended in the

Senate." In short, Bradley "was doing what he’s done best for more

than 20 years: chasing down cash."

Overall,

"during his brief retirement before he ran for president, Bradley raked in

millions in speaking and consulting fees." And despite his current lofty

verbiage, the book documents that Bradley is running his campaign with pivotal

involvement from the usual backers: "He’s surrounded himself with Wall

Street insiders, corporate raiders, and high-powered attorneys."

Meanwhile,

Bradley’s ethical posturing has gone a long way in the media game.

Score

another point for the politics of ambiguity.