Lieberman's liberal opponents insist that challenging the Connecticut senator fits into a broader strategy of fighting for a Democratic majority. They say that by covering for Bush and criticizing Bush's Democratic critics, Lieberman undermines the party in a way that's likely to hurt Democrats in 2006.
"Most of our resources are going to go into the fight to win back Congress in 2006 -- certainly that's a primary focus for us," Pariser says. "At the same time, when people like Lieberman dilute the Democratic brand by saying something that's so out of line with what most Democrats believe, that's a problem, and it's a problem precisely for the people who are trying to win in 2006 and trying to convey to voters a coherent message about what Democrats stand for. We're far from making any kind of decision about what specifically to do in Connecticut, and we would go to our members first if we did. But there's a lot at stake in what Lieberman says."
In confronting Lieberman, MoveOn would be following a strategy similar to that pursued by right-wing pressure groups like Club for Growth, which doesn't hesitate to go after apostate Republicans. In 2004, Club for Growth backed conservative Pat Toomey in his primary challenge to Pennsylvania Sen. Arlen Specter. (Toomey lost and went on to become Club for Growth's president.) This year, the group is supporting a primary challenger to Lincoln Chafee, the Republican senator from Rhode Island.
Club for Growth support is clearly no guarantee of success, but it is useful -- the group raised $22 million for the 2003-04 campaign season. Perhaps more important, the organization and others like it help keep Republicans in line ideologically, resulting in a party with far more message discipline than the Democrats.
But it's not a given that the Republican playbook can work for the Democrats, as the two parties are quite different animals. "I'm not much taken with the mirror-image idea," says Will Marshall, president of the Progressive Policy Institute, the think-tank arm of the centrist Democratic Leadership Council (a group that counts Lieberman among its members). "The Republicans are a truly conservative party. Most Republicans self-identify as conservatives, followed by moderates, and then a smattering of liberals. The Democrats are much more of a coalition party. Moderates predominate. It is not fundamentally a liberal party, although liberals are an important force in the Democratic Party. And for all that, we're still stuck at a 48 percent ceiling."
To the MoveOn/Democracy for America wing of the party, the key to breaking through that ceiling is a clear and unapologetic message, particularly on the war, which a majority of Americans now oppose. They maintain that Lieberman compromises that message and makes winning back Congress more difficult.
Marshall, however, argues that a Democratic majority can only come from making the party more inclusive of moderates and conservatives, and that getting rid of Lieberman would send a signal that those people aren't welcome. He calls the anti-Lieberman campaign "an effort at political intimidation by would-be cyber-commissars."
"I don't understand this impulse to punish and marginalize people that don't toe the activist line," says Marshall, adding, "I don't think many people believe that verging hard left is going to unlock heartland voters or working middle-class white voters."
Yet opposition to Lieberman isn't ideological in the typical right-left sense, activists like Pariser say. Indeed, the labels "liberal," "moderate" and "conservative" only approximate the contours of the conflict. On many issues -- including the environment and abortion rights -- Lieberman is fairly liberal. And the Democratic Party's grass roots have shown a remarkable willingness to embrace ideological differences on core issues in the name of party unity. Senate Minority Leader Harry Reid, a figure beloved by much of the Democratic base for his quietly pugilistic political style, is anti-abortion, as is Robert Casey, who is garnering widespread support for his challenge to Pennsylvania Republican Rick Santorum.
Grass-roots anger at Lieberman isn't even about the war, per se. Rather, it stems from a feeling of betrayal, and of frustration at Lieberman's attempts to cling to a near-dead tradition of bipartisan cooperation on foreign affairs.
Historically, the wise men of the two parties have worked together on issues of war and peace. Lieberman wants to keep that tradition alive.
In response to Democracy for America's protests about some of his Iraq comments, Lieberman wrote: "I have been clear all along that I believe the Bush administration made many mistakes in the run up to the invasion and its aftermath." A few sentences later, he continued, "But I also believe we must be careful not to allow the debate about why we overthrew Saddam and who is responsible for the mistakes to draw our attention away from the national focus we must maintain now to try to find a way to achieve a stable democracy in Iraq. It is crucial for the security of the Iraqi people, for the Middle East, for our nation and for the world."
To his backers, this seems like the mark of a mature statesman. "This has nothing to do with any kind of personal relationship with the president," says Marshall. "It has to do with how Joe Lieberman understands how this country conducts itself when faced with a very difficult war. He is making broader points about bipartisan responsibility. "I think he's being misconstrued as protecting or defending Bush," Marshall continues. "The broader question is how can we get out of Iraq in a way that doesn't leave behind a security debacle for the United States, and that doesn't completely squander the incredible sacrifice made by Americans and Iraqis who are trying to build something better there. Those are the questions that serious people are asking about Iraq."
For Lieberman's opponents, though, the senator's willingness to support Bush as commander in chief doesn't seem serious; rather, it looks like a naive refusal to recognize the rules have changed. As they see it, the Bush era has crushed any sense of nonpartisan national interest. Republicans conflate America with their own party, and their vision for the country includes the destruction of the Democrats and all they stand for. Cooperation with such people in the name of a sadly obsolete kind of patriotism seems suicidal, and optimism designed to bolster national morale just seems dishonest.
"It would be one thing if he conceded that the execution of the war was a disaster because of the way Rumsfeld and others planned it, or basically was in any way admitting how deeply painful the mess that America is in right now is," Pariser says. "But to have him join Bush in telling this sunny story about Iraq that is absolutely not true, it frustrates people more deeply than other candidates have."
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