Bush cannot be treated -- he must be surgically removed

The only way for Democrats to defeat the White House's fanatical culture of fear, greed and disunity is by asking the best, not the worst, of Americans.

By Arianna Huffington

Apr 13, 2004 | This book should be dedicated to an unfailing source of inspiration for me: the California recall race. If it had not happened and if I had not run for governor, this would simply be a book of criticism and outrage. These are perfectly legitimate responses to our current political landscape. But my temporary transformation from pundit to candidate brought me face-to-face with the inadequacy of criticism and outrage, no matter how witty, quotable, or justified.

Don't get me wrong: In the pages ahead there will be plenty of criticism of the fanatics who now run the Republican Party and the fools guiding the Democratic Party who have enabled the fanatics to prevail. But the heart of the book is my newfound conviction that to win in November, the Democratic nominee will have to propose a return to the idealism, boldness, and generosity of spirit that marked the presidencies of FDR and JFK and the short-lived presidential campaign of Bobby Kennedy.

The 2004 presidential election will be a political event with unprecedented significance for our lives and the lives of our children. Bush Republicans have offered a messianic vision of a new world built on tax cuts. This call has proven incredibly alluring: it's clear, it's broad, and it's accessible. Democrats need to present a vision that is equally clear, broad, and accessible, and that answers the fundamental question: what sort of America do we want to live in? Do we want an America that's fair and generous and demands the best of its citizens, an America where equal opportunity is a reality, not an empty slogan, an America that is respected around the world for its commitment to freedom and justice, an America that takes on the mantle of superpower in order to confront repression, relieve suffering, and preserve world peace? Can we aspire again to creating a country where full-time work yields a living wage and where good schools and good health care forge a stronger America in which every citizen is better off?

If the question is accurately framed, the Bush Republicans' one-note answer doesn't even have the virtue of self-interest. An America where the gulf between rich and poor is not so grotesque, where hard work is rewarded, where every child can get a decent education, and where health care is available to everyone is a stronger America for us all -- including Bush Republicans.

These are long-standing American ideals, not inventions of the left. But an indication of how successful the Republican machine has been at framing the overarching political debate is that even in times of dire emergency, when a state like California is facing the prospect of bankruptcy, tax increases, which should be a viable fiscal lifeline, are instead seen as a suicide pill. We've gotten to the point in this country where you can't raise taxes to repel an invasion from Mars unless you are able to disguise them as an economic stimulus package.

So here we are, watching the social contract go up in flames, not just in California, but in the entire country. It's a blaze ignited by the fanatics and watched helplessly by the fools. But ushering Bush and his band of fanatics out of the White House in 2004 is going to take more than just a critique, however masterful, of what they've done to our country. It's going to take a moral vision that replaces the dark grasping of the Bush administration. And given the stakes, and the way our political system is currently structured, it's going to have to be the Democratic presidential candidate who provides it.

There you have it. This is my endorsement for president in 2004: The Democrat. Although the story I'm about to tell you of fanatics and fools, of evil villains and even one or two heroes, is very much a political thriller, I'm violating one of Tom Clancy's golden rules: I'm starting with a surprise beginning rather than concluding with a surprise ending. That I should pick a side for 2004, especially one I've been criticizing as tired, intellectually bankrupt, and complicit in the current crisis, rather than advocate some new progressive coalition, is a big turnaround for me. In the years that have passed since my Republican interlude, I've been more comfortable on the outside of the two-party system because only from the outside, I believe, is the true geography of our national crisis visible. But from that perspective I have seen the crisis deepen alarmingly in recent times. We can't wait any longer for some sort of tectonic change. So while keeping the fires of reform burning, I'm sticking my nose in the Democratic tent, hoping that the Democratic nominee will offer the progressive transformation this country so desperately needs.

I suppose my optimism about the future comes down to what I think about human nature. If I thought that we were just material beings, driven purely by self-interest, then I would have to concede that we have no hope of rallying people around a noble alternative to the rescue fantasy offered by Rummy, Cheney, Cowboy George, or Arnold the "Terminator." If on the other hand I believed -- and I do -- that we are capable of both good and evil, then it's time to appeal to what is best in us, to summon "the better angels of our nature." Only then are we likely to build a nation where community and caring and compassion are not just throat-clearing openings to commencement addresses.

I've always believed this should be the goal of a healthy democracy. But I've had quite a journey when it comes to deciding the best means for getting there.

One stop along the way was on January 24, 1993, at a "Conservative Summit," in Washington, D.C., sponsored by the National Review. I gave a speech entitled "Can Conservatives Have a Social Conscience?" The event was kicked off in bombastic style by Master of Ceremonies Charlton Heston, who smugly announced that he was "one of the most politically incorrect people" because "I am heterosexual, Anglo-Saxon, married to the same woman for 49 years, and not the recipient of any entitlement of any kind."

That type of statement tends to set a certain tone. Sitting on the dais, scanning my notes, I listened with mounting horror to the speaker who preceded me, Brent Bozell, who had been the national finance chairman of the legendarily inclusive '92 Buchanan for President campaign. As Bozell's hard-right homilies were paraded in front of what, in the interest of fairness, can only be described as an adoring crowd, I asked myself two questions: "How can he and I both call ourselves Republicans?" and "Where is the nearest exit?"

Next Page: This was the cry of people who were ready to stop just talking and start acting

• View blog reactions