The Iowa caucuses are more than an election-year sideshow -- in the past, they've resurrected sinking campaigns and helped catapult obscure candidates like Jimmy Carter to the White House.
Jan 24, 2000 | At 7 o'clock Monday night, 65-year-old farmer Jack Drake will take time out from feeding cattle and tending to his corn, soybean and alfalfa farm to open up his Pottawattamie County home to his neighbors. Drake's wife, Shirley, will serve cookies and coffee. And then Drake, an eight-year Republican state representative, will lead one of the state's 2,100 or so caucuses that will help decide who will be the next president of the United States.
All across Iowa, caucus goers will debate candidates and elect delegates to their county conventions, who will at a later date select the state delegates who will finally choose the national convention delegates. But the initial rumble -- and the first ballots counted in Decision 2000 -- begins and ends Monday night.
Anyone can participate in the caucus as long as he or she will be 18 by Nov. 7, Election Day. You have to be a registered Democrat or Republican, of course, and at that specific party's caucus -- though you can register or even change your registration at the caucus itself.
The GOP process is a fairly simple affair. "I'm going to suggest somewhere between one or two minutes for anybody who wants to speak on behalf of the candidates," Drake says. "And then we'll vote."
Using secret ballots, each Republican caucus goer will choose among Texas Gov. George W. Bush, publisher Steve Forbes, commentator Alan Keyes, Arizona Sen. John McCain, Christian activist Gary Bauer and Utah Sen. Orrin Hatch. The results will be tabulated by appointed tellers and called into state GOP headquarters in Des Moines.
Three hundred seven miles northeast of Drake's rural abode, in a town called Decorah -- in the northeast corner of the state just 15 miles from the Minnesota border -- Jane and Irv Forester will open up their home for a Democratic caucus, which is somewhat different from its GOP counterpart. Democrats are chattier, and the rules are a bit more confusing.
"People will come and sign in," says Jane Forester , the retired former vice president of Northeast Iowa Community College. "Then we have to elect a chairman and a temporary chairman. Let me see, what do we do after that? I have the instructions written down here somewhere. Anyway, roughly, the first part of the evening is dealing with issues and if people have positions they want to talk about -- it could be about education or any policy -- and the group decides whether there's support for that or not. Then the last thing we do is declare for a candidate."
Democrats at the Foresters' home will separate into "preference groups" -- supporters for Vice President Al Gore by the fireplace, for instance, while those loyal to former New Jersey Sen. Bill Bradley can go into the kitchen. Then, assessing the proportion of support for each candidate, the Foresters' caucus will divide their small number of delegates accordingly.
Neither Drake, a Bush man, nor the Foresters, Gore supporters, have to remain neutral. Indeed, it's in the political thrust and parry that the caucuses differ from the solitary secrecy of primary and general elections.
"I support Al Gore. But we're going to let the other people in," Forester says, jokingly. "But we are very happy with the way the country's being run, and he was a very active part of it. We're not against Sen. Bradley, though. He's a good man."
Forester doesn't anticipate the "electricity" of the 1980 Jimmy Carter-Ted Kennedy caucus fights -- where an insurgent Kennedy took a third of the caucus votes, weakened Carter and helped send Ronald Reagan to the White House. "That was fairly memorable," she says. "Since then, it's been calmer."
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