David Harvey, the British-born geographer and Professor of Anthropology at CUNY, spoke at the Royal Society for the encouragement of Arts, Manufactures and Commerce (RSA) in London recently on the Crises of Capitalism. The RSA, in turn, produced this short animated feature.

Dr. Harvey, who is perhaps best known for his critique of neo-liberalism, remains one of the leading exponents of Marxist socio-economic thought. Having said this listen to his brief 11 minute lecture and see if there is anything with which you can disagree. Dr. Harvey is currently on a lecture tour for his Marxist critique of both the global financial crisis and the narratives told about it.

The principal question that he addresses is it time to look beyond capitalism towards a new social order that would allow us to live within a system that could be responsible, just and humane?

Dr. Harvey references Hyman Minsky, an American economist now deceased, who took a jaundiced view of Wall Street's role in the economy and how financial risk was managed. The New Yorker had a short insightful column back in February 2008 (so before the proverbial you know what really hit the proverbial fan) on Minsky and his financial instability hypothesis.

Hyman P. Minsky maintained a more negative view of Wall Street; in fact, he noted that bankers, traders, and other financiers periodically played the role of arsonists, setting the entire economy ablaze. Wall Street encouraged businesses and individuals to take on too much risk, he believed, generating ruinous boom-and-bust cycles. The only way to break this pattern was for the government to step in and regulate the moneymen.

Many of Minsky’s colleagues regarded his “financial-instability hypothesis,” which he first developed in the nineteen-sixties, as radical, if not crackpot. Today, with the subprime crisis seemingly on the verge of metamorphosing into a recession, references to it have become commonplace on financial Web sites and in the reports of Wall Street analysts. Minsky’s hypothesis is well worth revisiting. In trying to revive the economy, President Bush and the House have already agreed on the outlines of a “stimulus package,” but the first stage in curing any malady is making a correct diagnosis.

Minsky, who died in 1996, at the age of seventy-seven, earned a Ph.D. from Harvard and taught at Brown, Berkeley, and Washington University. He didn’t have anything against financial institutions—for many years, he served as a director of the Mark Twain Bank, in St. Louis—but he knew more about how they worked than most deskbound economists. There are basically five stages in Minsky’s model of the credit cycle: displacement, boom, euphoria, profit taking, and panic. A displacement occurs when investors get excited about something—an invention, such as the Internet, or a war, or an abrupt change of economic policy. The current cycle began in 2003, with the Fed chief Alan Greenspan’s decision to reduce short-term interest rates to one per cent, and an unexpected influx of foreign money, particularly Chinese money, into U.S. Treasury bonds. With the cost of borrowing—mortgage rates, in particular—at historic lows, a speculative real-estate boom quickly developed that was much bigger, in terms of over-all valuation, than the previous bubble in technology stocks.

As a boom leads to euphoria, Minsky said, banks and other commercial lenders extend credit to ever more dubious borrowers, often creating new financial instruments to do the job. During the nineteen-eighties, junk bonds played that role. More recently, it was the securitization of mortgages, which enabled banks to provide home loans without worrying if they would ever be repaid. (Investors who bought the newfangled securities would be left to deal with any defaults.) Then, at the top of the market (in this case, mid-2006), some smart traders start to cash in their profits.

The onset of panic is usually heralded by a dramatic effect: in July, two Bear Stearns hedge funds that had invested heavily in mortgage securities collapsed. Six months and four interest-rate cuts later, Ben Bernanke and his colleagues at the Fed are struggling to contain the bust. Despite last week’s rebound, the outlook remains grim. According to Dean Baker, the co-director of the Center for Economic and Policy Research, average house prices are falling nationwide at an annual rate of more than ten per cent, something not seen since before the Second World War. This means that American households are getting poorer at a rate of more than two trillion dollars a year.

It’s hard to say exactly how falling house prices will affect the economy, but recent computer simulations carried out by Frederic Mishkin, a governor at the Fed, suggest that, for every dollar the typical American family’s housing wealth drops in a year, that family may cut its spending by up to seven cents. Nationwide, that adds up to roughly a hundred and fifty-five billion dollars, which is bigger than President Bush’s stimulus package. And it doesn’t take into account plunging stock prices, collapsing confidence, and the belated imposition of tighter lending practices—all of which will further restrict economic activity.

Pretty much the nail on the head.

Reprinted from the New York Journal of Books. 

 “Barack Obama is what comes at the end of that bridge in Selma.” —Congressman John Lewis

David Remnick, Editor-in-Chief of the New Yorker magazine, has stitched together a great book, The Bridge: The Life and Rise of Barack Obama.

Remnick is also the author of several earlier books, most notably Lenin’s Tomb: The Last Days of the Soviet Empire and The King of the World: Muhammad Ali and the Rise of an American Hero. The former deservedly won Remnick the Pulitzer Prize in 1994, and the latter book is the story of boxing legend Muhammad Ali.

The Bridge: The Life and Rise of Barack Obama was particularly resonant for this reviewer, as I am the author of another book concerning Obama’s path to the presidency.

In The Bridge, Remnick constructs sentences that are gripping and compelling. His research of his subject is also top notch, in part because he secured interviews that eluded others. Ben Smith of Politico complained he tried to get Bill Ayers and others who attended an event when Obama was running for Illinois State Senate, to discuss the event at Ayers’s home. The 2008 Republican Vice-Presidential candidate Sarah Palin attempted and failed to make an issue of Obama’s relationship of Ayers and futilely referred to Obama “palling around with terrorists.” But it took Remnick to actually get the interviews necessary for a clear narrative.

“When I first wrote about that gathering at Ayers’s and Bernadine Dohrn’s house that helped launch his political career, it took days to get two people who had been there to confirm the event happened. But the same people—including Ayers —are far more comfortable talking to the editor of the New Yorker after the election has passed and, ironically, telling a story that helps confirm Obama’s centrist past and give the lie to some of the more strident depictions of him today.”

A strength of Remnick’s book is that he interviewed many to whom others lacked access, in large part due to his tenacity, and dare I say, audacity. While not on the scene for many of the events described, Remnick’s access and analysis enabled him to masterfully recreate them. And like other great historians such as Doris Kearns Goodwin in the Team of Rivals, David McCullough in Truman, and Stephen Ambrose in Undaunted Courage, Remnick puts you there.

The Bridge is a must read for anyone fascinated by American History, or by Barack Obama. At this point in time, there there are a growing number of Obama books, but precious few that cover Obama’s rise from early childhood to his emergence into manhood. Indeed, The Bridge is the most comprehensive work to date. Most know and have read about Obama’s controversial relationship with the Reverend Jeremiah Wright and many may have seen interviews with two of Obama's close friends and aides, David Axelrod and Valerie Jarrett. But Remnick also details the roles of lesser-known Obama associates such as Jerry Kellman, Bettylu Saltzman, Ron Davis, Al Kindle, Toni Preckwinkle, Will Burns, and many with an important role at seminal moments in Obama’s life.

Remnick interviewed all of these people and reveals much that has never before been public; this intelligence will no doubt be often cited as primary source for historians writing about this Presidency hundreds of years from now. Obama has a chance to achieve that same greatness as Presidents Abraham Lincoln and Franklin Roosevelt because achieving greatness is not possible without the nation being in crisis. As Lincoln and FDR before him, Obama was elected at a time of crisis. With the banking system on the verge of collapse and an increasingly unpopular war being fought in Iraq, Obama immediately took control and inspired confidence. Remnick tells the story in an engaging way.

The Bridge makes clear that Obama has no intention of becoming just another ordinary President, but wants and needs to be remembered as somebody who made a difference.

As evidence of this and Obama’s striving to excel, this boundless energy is taking shape in the early days of the Obama Presidency. The stock market, as an economic barometer of the future, is telling us that things are getting better and it may one day be referred to as the “Obama rally.” And the evidence is clear that the bleeding in employment has subsided with the March 2010 labor report showing an additional 136,000 jobs added to the economy with many economists predicting a sea change in this direction. The passage of an economic stimulus package is reaping many of these employment benefits, as will the historic passage of the most significant legislation since the passage of Medicare: the health care reform bill.

The Obama Presidency is on its way. Barack Obama is the ultimate student. When he came into the United States Senate, he was reading Master of the Senate by Robert Caro to gain insight into the workings of the Senate. Obama then devoured books about Franklin Roosevelt when it became obvious to him he would be elected in late 2008 and applied what he had learned about how Roosevelt dealt with the Depression in his decision-making as President.

And during the health care debate in Congress, Obama found his inner LBJ, who had a way of dealing with Congress that Obama studied and absorbed through books about President Johnson.

Don Hewitt, the producer of 60 Minutes, often admonished his reporters in four words, “Tell me a story.” This book, The Bridge, indeed tells us all a story. Some of the content perhaps we had heard before. But there are surprises, and the book will fascinate those eager to know more. In short, Remnick answers the most basic question, but one not answered until now: Where did Barack Obama come from and what makes him tick?

The story of Barack Obama begins with his childhood in Hawaii, and later his move to Indonesia and then back to Hawaii. Then to his college days, including a short stint in the Eagle Rock community of Los Angeles at Occidental College, and onto New York City to attend Columbia College and graduate. He then found his way to Chicago through Jerry Kellman. In Chicago he worked several different jobs, all low-paying, but for the young Obama, gratifying. Then to Cambridge, Massachusetts, to Harvard Law school, where he not only attended but also excelled and made an impact. And then back to Chicago for a bigger impact. Met Michelle Robinson. Married. Wrote a book that he thought sure would be a bestseller. It was, but not until much later than planned or expected.

Through this all, David Remnick places us there with Barack Obama and the people he met and interacted with on this journey. The book is a great mixture of personal detail of Obama’s life from a large variety of sources, including dozens of books. We meet friends, relatives, allies, acquaintances, and others that either had a direct or indirect influence on his life. The Bridge tells the tale of how Obama lost the 2000 Congressional race to Bobby Rush. And is if that were not humiliating enough, Obama could not gain entrance into the 2000 Democratic convention, and could barely pay for the trip because he had maxed out his credit card as a result of his ill-fated Congressional race. And then in the 2004 Democratic convention, Obama started on this road rock-stardom in giving a memorable speech that launched him onto the national stage. By 2008, when Barack Obama was the Democratic nominee for President, he owned the 2008 Democratic convention.

The book also relates many other interesting and never before revealed details, such as the admonishment of Chicago Mayor Richard M. Daley about Obama’s running against Bobby Rush. “Why did you do that?” Daley asked. I could just imagine Daley telling Obama that it was “Silly, silly, silly.” But not so silly in the larger context of Obama's life and history. Because had Obama won, it would have changed history. Had Obama not run, it would have changed history.

The Bridge, while groundbreaking, does not delve deeply enough into the grassroots efforts of the 2004 Senate campaign, which had its seeds planted in the 2000 Congressional campaign. These seeds were firmly planted on March 7, 2000, at a candidates’ forum held in the Beverly community of Chicago at Bethany Union Church. This forum was Obama’s “Coming Out” party—his first venture outside of Hyde Park. He mesmerized 600 voters, many of whom became lifetime supporters and grassroots volunteers. This event was one of the very few bright spots of the 2000 campaign, and was all the more significant because it is here that Obama met and enlisted many of his grassroots supporters and organizers. A newspaper columnist from the then Daily Southtown, Phil Kadner, passed off the event as being dull and ineffective in his March 8, 2000 column, but grudgingly acknowledged Obama’s impact:

“Talking to a handful of residents after the meeting, I would say that Obama was the most effective in pleading his case.

“‘I think Obama would be the most likely to sway opinions in Congress because he’s more eloquent,’” said one woman, pretty much summarizing Obama in his closing remarks.”

Obama confronted Kadner several years later and challenged Kadner’s views about that night. Kadner defended himself, and both men agreed to disagree—a common theme with Obama and his would-be detractors.

Remnick also passes off as “modest” the seeds of the “netroots” that formed in the summer of 2003 when volunteers outside of the inner circle of the campaign got involved with “meetup.com” and “Yahoo Groups for Obama.” It was these seeds that spread and grew throughout the campaign and were instrumental in recruiting volunteers throughout the state of Illinois and beyond. Further exploration of this period would have made for an even richer account of Obama’s rise.

Remnick found the title of his book in a quote by civil rights activist, author, and Congressman John Lewis who, during the most difficult days of the Civil Rights movement, led a march across the Edmund Pettus Bridge straight into a blockade set up by Alabama state troopers and the ensuing violent assault of these so-called officers of the law. The day before Obama’s Inauguration, which marked what would have been Martin Luther King’s eightieth birthday, Lewis told a visitor at his office in the Cannon House Office Building, “Barack Obama is what comes at the end of that bridge in Selma.”

The Bridge is rich in both factual detail and in its prose. Readers will find in this author’s voice both warmth and depth. At the end of “The Prologue: The Joshua Generation,” Remnick tells a touching story of the reenactment of the march across The Bridge in 2007. It reveals the compassionate and empathetic side of Obama that he acknowledges came from his mother, Stanley Ann Dunham.

“Unlike the ritual re-enactments of the Battle of Selma, the reenactments of the crossing of the Pettus Bridge involved no mock violence. The skirmishes were limited to the jostling of photographers trying to get a picture of the Clintons and Obama. Would they stand together and link arms? They would not. But they did share the front row with Lewis and Lowery and younger politicians like Arturo Davis. Along the way, Obama encountered Reverend Fred Shuttlesworth, a civil-rights icon in his mid-eighties, who had battled Bull Connor in Birmingham and survived beatings, bombings, and years of slanderous attack. Shuttlesworth had recently had a brain tumor removed, but he refused to miss the commemoration. On the bridge, he chatted awhile with Obama. And then Obama, who had read so much about the movement, who had dreamed about it, took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeve, popped a piece of Nicorette gum in his mouth, and helped push the wheelchair of Fred Shuttlesworth, across the bridge to the other side.”

As John Lewis said, it was Obama who was on the other side of the bridge, pushing those in need and followed by a large crowd of people of all races, beliefs, and creeds. Why did John Lewis cross the bridge? To get to the other side and find Barack Obama. In a larger sense, John Lewis found hope and change and what they were really fighting for all these many years: freedom.

John Presta is the author of Mr. and Mrs. Grassroots: How Barack Obama, Two Bookstore Owners, and 300 Volunteers Did It. He is also a regular contributor to the political blog, The Daily Kos, and is a columnist at the Chicago Examiner as the Chicago City Hall Examiner and the Chicago Grassoots Examiner.

As John McCain's team makes every attempt to change the facts surrounding the last few days they are running into problems.  In a shocking turn of events, the MSM actually recorded John McCain's comments regarding the financial crisis and debate.  

See the painful outcome here...

There's more...

There no longer can be any doubt: John Edwards is running a bold, progressive campaign. Even supporters of other contenders now acknowledge that he has embraced positions--and ways of articulating them--that progressives can't help but like.

His critics, then, are left to argue that Edwards is posing as a progressive. Citing selective parts of his Senate record, they claim that Edwards doesn't believe in the positions he's now taking. It's tempting to dismiss such claims as simple smears, but (some of) his critics seem sincere in their belief that Edwards isn't sincere, so I thought it would be valuable to take a look at his political development.

While critics of Edwards make far too much of his change--he's always had palpable progressive instincts--supporters do him a disservice if they deny that he's moved left.  Of course he has, especially on foreign policy. But the change has not been sudden or capricious, as his detractors claim; on the contrary, it has been gradual, sometimes halting, and, given his instincts, natural. Far from mysterious, his growth has its roots in political and personal forces that aren't difficult to discern, if you care to look.

IN THE SENATE

There's been a lot of loose talk here and elsewhere about Edwards's "centrism" and "DLCism" when he was in the Senate, loose talk that ignores both the truth about his record and the context in which his record was compiled. Given the time and place of his political birth, he was strikingly progressive--probably the most progressive senator elected in a deeply red southern state in the last 25 years. His chief competitor for this unofficial title is Max Cleland, and we all know what happened to him. Context matters.

Edwards represented North Carolina: we all know this but we seem not to know it enough. This fact is often glossed over by otherwise savvy commentators, as if representing a conservative state at a (conservative time) were a minor inconvenience to a pol with left-leaning instincts. We're disgusted by Joe Lieberman partly because he represents a liberal state, and we cut Ben Nelson slack because he represents a conservative one. We should likewise consider the state in which Edwards had to win votes.

North Carolina isn't South Carolina or Utah---Dems do well in NC's state legislature--but it isn't Arkansas or Florida, either. No conventional liberal has one statewide office there since--since I'm not sure when. And it was even more conservative a decade ago, when Edwards ran for the Senate. It's the state that kept sending Jesse Helms back to the Senate, and that elected Lauch Faircloth, Edwards's predecessor and Helms's wingman, who liked to boast that he was the conservative senator from North Carolina.

I'm not saying that deep down Edwards yearned to be Noam Chomsky. I'm saying that given the demographics of North Carolina--as well as the dominance of neoliberalism in the nineties--it wouldn't have occurred to him to present himself as a lefty. Edwards, it seems, actually sought to play down his progressivism to make himself palatable to North Carolinians; as a lawyer he had opposed the death penalty, but as a candidate, he said he supported it in rare cases. This isn't to his credit-- I hope he reverts to his former position someday--but it's telling information if you want to know about his sincere opinions.

What kind of senator was he? Labels only get you so far, but I'd say he was a moderate progressive with a concern for civil liberties and a populist streak that came naturally to a millworker's son who'd gotten famous prosecuting corporations for wrongdoing. Let me say that again: he had a populist streak and a concern for civil liberties--not qualities you associate with the New Democrats (with whom he is sometimes unfairly lumped). Indeed, the moderates at the DLC--who tried without success to make Edwards their Golden Boy--would have wanted him to worry less about corporate power and the constitution.

His economic populism can be seen in his early opposition to the "Free" Trade regime, also know as the Washington Consensus. He wasn't in Congress when NAFTA was passed, but he opposed it at least as early and 1995 and made his opposition clear during his Senate run. Once in the Senate, he opposed free trade agreements with Chile, Singapore, and Carribean nations, and he voted against giving President Bush fast-track trade authority after provisions to help workers and the textile industry were dropped. His record wasn't perfect--he voted for normalizing trade relations with China, apparently to help the textile industry in North Carolina--but his record was good enough to earn him a meager 17% rating from CATO, the libetarian think tank. A DLC free trader he wasn't.

And his name is on the Patients Bill of Rights, an admirable attempt to provide important protection to all people in HMOs. Populist and pro-consumer, the bill predicts Edwards's recent leadership on health care.

He's no Johnny-come-lately to the populist cause; on the contrary, he embraced populism before populism was cool--long before everyone knew about Jim Webb and Sherrod Brown. From the moment Edwards came on the scene he exhibited an admiration for wealth over work, a healthy mistrust of coprorations, an awareness of money's corrupting influence on politics (he's never taken a penny from PACs or federal lobbyists.) After Kerry chose him to be his running mate, The Nation's John Nichols talked about his career in the Senate, and the man he describes sounds exactly like the candidate we know today.

[...I]n the Senate, Edwards was willing to stand up on a number of anti-corporate issues more so than most Democrats. It's the reason that not just Ralph Nader has kind words for him but also people like Ted Kennedy and remember, internally within the Kerry campaign, Ted Kennedy was advocating for Edwards. Because he saw Edwards as a gutsy guy who is willing to take on some bigger issues and to do some rough stuff with it. I think that's where the appeal is, to a lot of the older Democrats and even non-Democrats who see Edwards as a relatively young guy with a little bit of spark.

The next time someone claims that Edwards was a centrist in the Senate, ask yourself if a centrist would win praise from Ted Kennedy and Ralph Nader.

In the Senate Edwards was an unwavering supporter of affirmative action, expanded legal immigration, and, most notably, abortion rights. I say most notably because, as you know, certain senators in GOP states burnish their "moral values" cred--and sell out women--by voting for restrictions of abortion, but Edwards earned a 100 percent rating from NARAL.

Edwards also did a lot of what good progressive Congresspeople do: he supported and built support for a number of relatively uncontroversial but essential bills, bills that helped people, including the most vulnerable among us. For example, one of the first bills he sponsored promoted research into Fragile X, the most common inherited cause of mental retardation.

As I researched Edwards's record in the Senate, I was pleased--and a little surprised--by his concern for constitutional rights, which are often sacrificed on the altar of political expediency. Especially impressive was his 2000 vote against the constitutional amendment to ban flag desecration. The GOP pushes the amendment largely to isolate southern Dems, who usally end up voting for it so as not to portrayed as unpatriotic. Edwards was one of only two southern senators to oppose the bill; the other was Chuck Robb, and his opposition helped George Allen to beat him. It's not an exaggeration to say Edwards risked his senate seat for the First Amendment. Also:

- He was first Congressperson to introduce comprehensive anti spyware legislation, which sought to protect the privacy of people who use computer software programs.  

- He co-sponsored the orginal Innocence Protection Act, which sought to ensure that innocent people are not executed.

- He opposed mandatory minimum sentences, a racist and unjust weapon in the War on Drugs that has imprisoned hundreds of thousands of non-violent offenders.

We can assume that his concern for the rights of Americans--especially the rights of that most vulnerable group of Americans: people charged with crimes--derives from his career as a trial attorney. Three months after 9-11, during a hearing on Bush's proposal for military tribunal for people accused of terrorism,
he grilled Ashcroft about the administration's attack on Habeas Corpus:

SEN. EDWARDS: ...Do you believe that there needs to be a process that allows some appeal that looks at the fundamental question of how the trial was conducted, whether evidence was properly considered by the court, and whether, in fact, there's evidence that was not considered by the court that would have shown this person, in fact, did not do it, did not commit this crime?

ATTY GEN. ASHCROFT: In the president's order to the secretary of defense to develop procedures here, I believe there is adequate latitude for the secretary of defense to develop a potential and a framework for appeals.

SEN. EDWARDS: But isn't that something you believe should be done?

ATTY GEN. ASHCROFT: I believe that the president and the secretary of defense both, according to the order, constitute appellate authorities. And I think those appellate authorities are consistent with systems that -- that provide the kind of justice that is likely -- less likely to have error.

SEN. EDWARDS: But the president and the secretary of defense are the people who decided the prosecution should be brought in the first case. Do you believe there needs to be an objective third party that looks at the trial, looks at the conviction, looks at the imposition of the death penalty, if that in fact has occurred, and looks at whether it should have happened?

ATTY GEN. ASHCROFT: The secretary of defense would have the authority to develop appellate procedures under the order, military order for the development of war commissions issued by the president. And I believe that that authority is available to him. And if he chooses to confer with me about that, I'll provide advice to him regarding appellate procedures.

SEN. EDWARDS: Do you believe in fact there needs to be a review, an objective review by a third party? That's what I'm asking you.

ATTY GEN. ASHCROFT: I'm going to reserve my comments to provide advice to the president and the secretary of defense regarding any questions they have for me regarding what should be or should not be added in terms of procedures for this order.

I was also surprised by aspects of his record on foreign policy. While we all know about his vote for the War in Iraq, which I'll get to in a moment, did you know that he was one of the lonely voices warning about terrorism before 9-11? I didn't till recently and I'm pretty informed on things Edwards.

This fact alone deserves a Daily Kos diary or two: if and when Republicans claim that a President Edwards would be weak on national security he will be able to point out that on the issue of terrorism he was nothing less than prescient. While Bush was in Texas clearing brush, ignoring memos about Bin Laden's plans to attack the country, Edwards was trying to warn us.

In the summer of 2001, when much of the Republican and Democratic policy community was obsessed with missile defense, Edwards urged more attention to terrorism. The North Carolina senator had such limited luck pitching an OpEd article on terrorism to major newspapers that the piece, warning of poor cooperation among federal and local law enforcement, ended up in the weekly Littleton Observer, circulation 2,230 -- four weeks before the Sept. 11 attacks.

As a senator Edwards also wanted the United States to make human rights a centerpiece of its foreign policy. Democracy-promotion, given a bad name by Bush, is a noble, progressive idea, and it dovetails with Edwards's support for fair trade. A President Edwards would, it seems, be unlikely--less likely than previous presidents--to make nice with dictatorships.

John Edwards has emerged as a politician willing to push beyond conventional foreign policy ideas and introduce imaginative proposals that often do not meet with swift approval.

In one typical case, Edwards in January called for the United States to draw up a "freedom list" that would identify dissidents jailed for political or religious expression in an attempt through "name and shame" to persuade other countries to free political prisoners. He also proposed linking U.S. aid to progress on human rights and democracy -- a practice that, if implemented, would almost certainly disqualify many key U.S. allies, such as Egypt and Pakistan.

It's impossible to know whether he voted for the IWR for reasons of principle or politics or both. This much is clear: in light of his presidential aspirations and his near-frontrunner status, it would have been remarkable if he had voted against the resolution. This isn't to excuse his vote--on some votes you need to risk losing--but Edwards, like all pols, balances his beliefs with his desire to win. Whether in 1998 or 2008, Edwards has shown a willingess to be as progressive--well, almost as progressive--as his context allows. The good news for Edwards--and for Democrats, should we nominate him--is that because of his personality, political skill, and Southerness he can be more progressive than other candidates and still win. Here's Ezra Klein.

Speaking in a honeyed North Carolinian drawl peppered with "sirs" and "pleases," Edwards can talk of populism and class in terms that would get most any other candidate labeled a Leninist, and yet he seems unthreatening, even solicitous. As Chuck Todd, the editor of National Journal's Hotline, marvels, "Howard Dean says it, and it's shrill; Edwards says the exact same thing, and you melt." The voice separates Edwards from the rest of the field, and makes him the first genuine populist in decades with a serious shot at the presidency... John Edwards can speak truths about the country that the other Democratic candidates cannot.

THE 2004 PRESIDENTIAL RACE

Anyone who thinks Edwards is a convert to the progressive cause should read the speeches he gave in 2003 and 2004. Populism had fallen out of favor among Establishment Dems, class-based campaigns had given way to corporate-sponsored Clintonism, yet here was Edwards, surely acting on his own instincts, focusing the country's attention on what Jim Webb calls the country's most important problem: economic inequality. When the book gets written on what I believe will turn out to be a new era of populism, Edwards's 2004 campaign will warrant a chapter. He deserves credit simply for the power of his metaphor.

Today, under George W. Bush, there are two Americas, not one: One America that does the work, another America that reaps the reward. One America that pays the taxes, another America that gets the tax breaks. One America that will do anything to leave its children a better life, another America that never has to do a thing because its children are already set for life. One America -- middle-class America - whose needs Washington has long forgotten, another America - narrow-interest America - whose every wish is Washington's command. One America that is struggling to get by, another America that can buy anything it wants, even a Congress and a President.

The press didn't quite know what to make of him. (It still doesn't.) Conventional discourse doesn't accomodate pols who don't fit into a niche. Maybe they were confused because he reminded them of Clinton yet rejected Clintonomics. Or because he had both a hopeful message and a class-based politics, the kind they associated with "angry" candidates. Or because he shook off the "New Democrat" label they wanted to pin on him. Whatever the reason, journalists wondered, is this guy for real? Yes, said John Nichols.

I will tell that you Edwards -- I was with him a lot. I interviewed him a lot. And I think he actually came to recognize the danger of corporate free trade, largely from his own experience in North Carolina, on South Carolina where he was born, because he has seen the textile towns just dry up as a result of bad trade policies.

Alone among the top-tier contenders, he spoke about the economic problems facing the country with the focus, passion, and eloquence they demand. Back then, as opposed to now, his policy plaform wasn't ambitious enough to solve the problems he identified, but no one should undestimate the importance of his willingness and ability to tell the country some tough truths.

He probably felt liberated not having to win North Carolina. To read his speeches is to hear a candidate begin to find his political voice, his comfort zone. He got better as the campaign progressed. He was more than a simple populist. He did something much more difficult and interesting than just bash Big Money: he also spoke for the  disenfrachised. His best speech was the one he gave after winning the South Carolina primary. By then it was too late to catch Kerry, but it gave the country a preview of what was to come.

Tonight--tonight--somewhere in America a 10-year-old little girl will go to bed hungry, hoping and praying that tomorrow will not be as cold as today because she doesn't have the coat to keep her warm; hoping and praying that she doesn't get sick as she did last year, because it means 24 hours waiting in an emergency room to try to get medical care; hoping that her father, who lost his job when the factory closed and has not been able to find steady work, will actually get a job that allows him to provide for his family. She's one of 35 million Americans who live in poverty every single day, unnoticed, unheard. Well, tonight we see her, we hear her, we embrace her, she is part of our family and we will lift her up.

ESCAPE FROM WASHINGTON

For most of 2005, Edwards kept a low profile in part because Elizabeth was sick. I don't presume to know exactly how this affected him, but the life-threatening illness of a loved one has to have an impact on a person. Maybe it clarifies what's important. Maybe it makes you a little looser, a little braver. Maybe it reminds you in a visceral way that there's a limited time to be the person you want to be.

About a year after the election, he published his now-famous "I Was Wrong" op-ed, in which he said that he had been wrong to vote for the Iraq War resolution. Some people now dismiss this as simple political positioning, but this criticism ignores the context. At the time no person of his prominence had offered a mea culpa for supporting the war, and in fact few, if any, have since. More telling, though, is what happened behind the scenes.

As time passed, John Edwards began to believe he made the wrong decision. "We talked about it a lot," Elizabeth Edwards said, "and he was saying to me that it was so hard to come to that conclusion because young men and women lost their lives. . . . Then he decided, `Let's face it, I was wrong and I'm going to have to say it, even though I know what it means.' "

In longhand, he wrote out an explanation for his vote that began: "I was wrong." He submitted the draft to his aides. They advised him to cut those first three words.

In other accounts, the "aides"--who urged Edwards to abide the conventional wisdom and refuse to admit a mistake on national security--are called "consultants." Whatever they were, Edwards rejected their advice, and I suspect that this was his Independence Day, a goodbye-to-all-that moment. At that point, it seems, he stopped consulting the insider's playbook, better known as "How to be Cautious and Lose Elections."
And political bravery feeds on itself: the more chances you take, the more chances you will take.

It's easy to pose as an outsider, of course, and Washington is an easy place to demonize, but Edwards's literal and figurative departure from the Beltway was genuine. I knew Edwards was the candidate for me when I read this in the National Journal (subscription only):

Since selling his Washington home and moving back to North Carolina to start a university center devoted to the working poor, the former one-term senator has rarely given interviews. He no longer contributes money to other Democrats, although he raises money for them. He has kept his political action vehicle, the One America Committee, but it's virtually bankrupt. And he hasn't asked his financial supporters to contribute.

Opponents whisper that Edwards's trial lawyer base, which powered his 2004 presidential bid, has been pecked to death by voracious rivals. And then there's the labor thing: Edwards spends lots of time with unions -- days at a time, even - as they battle to raise state minimum wages. "He's running Dick Gephardt's '04 campaign," one strategist to a rival sneers dismissively.

Perhaps most bewildering to some inside-the-Beltway Democrats is that Edwards doesn't seem to care whether they think he's making all the wrong moves.

Edwards says he learned in the two years after he left the Senate than in the six years he was in it, and I doubt that this is hyperbole. The press likes to talk about his part-time job consulting for a hedge fund, failing to mention that he has spent the vast majority of time studying poverty, traveling in undeveloped countries, and organizing workers. Here's former Congressman, David Bonior.

I haven't seen someone as a national figure do as much on workers' rights and poverty in my lifetime. That includes Bobby Kennedy and people in politics in the `60s. He helped organize people in probably 85 different actions, from hotel workers to university janitors to people who work in buildings and factories. He was out there demonstrating, marching, picketing, writing letters to CEOs, demanding that [workers] have the right to organize and represent themselves. He started a center on poverty and became the director at the University of North Carolina. He traveled the country and was a leader in getting a minimum-wage bill passed in eight states.

There's no question that Bonior's relationship with Edwards has been a formative one. He endorsed Edwards in 2004 and then last year agreed to run this one. In fact, he's volunteering, opting not to take a salary. As a Congressman, Bonior was not only a populist champion, he was a leftist on foreign policy, someone who opposed the war in Iraq (Edwards's two most important advisors, Bonior and Elizabeth, opposed the war) and whose concern for Palestinians earned him AIPAC's undying scorn.

Speculation about the forces that have shaped Edwards is just that, speculation; but it's easy to believe that he was influenced by his departure first from the Senate then from Washington, his decision to take responsibility for his bad vote on the war, Elizabeth's illness, his relationship with Bonior, and, above all else, the countless hours spent talking to and working side by side with the people he wants to help. It's not that his fundamental beliefs have changed. It's that he's found a philosophy that suits them, as well as the the will and the opportunity to act on them. Who can't relate to his attempt to be true to himself, to live in a way that comports with his values?

I won't go into depth about his agenda, because, as I said, even his critics acknowledge that it's progressive and bold. His website discusses his proposals in detail. They constitute a Kenyesian public investment plan to help the poor, the working class, and the middle class. An Edwards presidency would, among other things, reduce income inequality and move the political center to the left. Sound good?

Still, there are doubters, quick to point to his expensive haircuts and fancy house. Fans of other candidates or just cynical, they seem to want to believe that Edwards is insincere. It's a little disturbing that some Democrats refuse to believe that a progressive champion is, in fact, a progressive champion. Or that a politician can grow; after all, a belief that people can improve is itself a progressive value.

Edwards's antiwar leadership has drawn the most barbs. He was calling for withdrawal from Iraq a full year ago, and along among the top-tier contenders he thinks Congress should use it funding power to force Bush to bring home the troops. And he's putting his money where his mouth is: his campaign's first TV ads urge Congress to stand firm against Bush in the political struggle over Iraq. His antiwar activism has irritated critics of Edwards, who seem astonished that he has managed to get to the left of the other candidates on Iraq. Rather than celebrate the emergence of a prominent and articulate critic of the war, they cast doubt.

Even astute commentators, like Greg Sargent, question whether Edwards is "sincere." How could someone who supported the war at the outset now oppose it? Well, the way tens of millions of Americans could. The way dozens of Senators who supported the Vietnam War at the outset came to oppose it. Would the doubters and cynics prefer Edwards to remain silent? While they see only political positioning--and there is some of that, of course--the less jaded among us also see conviction and maybe even redemption.

Edwards will, in any case, silence or at least disarm most of the critics. He's his own best argument. Voters in early caucus and primary states will get a good close look at him, and the man they will see is the one who caught the attention of Sasha Abramsky of Mother Jones magazine.

In 2004, Edwards seemed charismatic, yet somehow not fully formed. This time around, there is nothing raw or inexperienced in his presentation: he establishes an instant rapport with his audience, his answers are passionate, and he exudes a command of his subject. When he fields questions from the press, his eye contact is almost hypnotic. When he talks about the issues he cares about most--poverty, Iraq, healthcare--he creates the same sincere-yet-not-pontificating aura that Bill Clinton mastered 15 years ago...[H]is voice this time around is stronger than in 2004, his policies better honed, and his anger at the state of the country today almost incandescent.

Most commentators don't yet appreciate the impact that Edwards will have on the race. This isn't some marginal candidate running left. This is the former vice presidental candidate, the man who leads in Iowa. Once voters and journalists start focusing on the substantive differences between the candidates, he'll pull the entire debate in a progressive direction. His campaign amounts to a challenge to the other candidates, one they won't have the luxury of ignoring:

Be bold, and progressive. Or lose.

There's more...

An L.A. Daily News article (May 2nd) confirms the writing that has been on the wall the past three election cycles - David Dreier has lost his "untouchable" status. Apparently, losing the House and his chairmanship hasn't done Dreier any favors:

Dreier, who was unseated as chairman of the powerful House Rules Committee in the November Democratic victory, raised less than $27,000 over the past two quarters.

That's an almost unprecedented low for the prolific fundraiser, who even in nonelection years has been known to raise at least $100,000 in any three-month span and often more than $200,000.

There's more...