PACKET EDITORIAL, July 23
With concern heightened about the possibility of terrorists disrupting either next week’s Democratic National Convention in Boston or next month’s Republican National Convention in New York, it may be heresy to express the hope that something truly newsworthy might actually happen at either event.
Nevertheless, wouldn’t it be nice if something remotely surprising, suspenseful or spontaneous were to take place at one or both of these gatherings? We don’t mean some horrifying, earth-shattering, cataclysmic event. We’d be satisfied with a skirmish over the party platform or a dispute over the convention rules, some ornery delegates who decide to change their votes in the middle of the roll call of the states, maybe even an anti-war protest that spills over into the convention hall.
Something anything to spare us the monotony of another scripted, made-for-television production in which the participants first listen to, then pretend to be whipped into frenzied enthusiasm by, a steady parade of sonorous speakers who make reruns of "Seinfeld" the show where nothing happens more appealing to folks sitting in the comfort of their living rooms.
It wasn’t always thus. Early political conventions, before the days of television, were often unruly affairs, with the balloting for the presidential nominee lasting for hours and sometimes days. In 1860, the Democrats had to call the roll 59 times before they nominated Stephen Douglas of Illinois. In 1912, they nominated Princetonian Woodrow Wilson on the 46th ballot.
Even after television brought the political conventions directly into people’s homes, there was still plenty of drama. The Democrats’ 1968 convention was by far the most memorable a party bitterly divided over the Vietnam War locked in angry debate, bringing personal attacks and physical confrontations to the convention floor, all against the backdrop of rioting in the streets of Chicago. But this was by no means the only convention in the television age to pack a dramatic punch.
The down-to-the-wire balloting between Gerald Ford and Ronald Reagan lent real suspense to the Republicans’ 1976 convention in Kansas City. And when NBC’s John Chancellor (another Princetonian) was dragged by security guards from the floor of San Francisco’s Cow Palace during the 1964 GOP convention, it produced one of the best impromptu sign-off lines in TV news history: "Here we go down the middle aisle. … I’ve been promised bail, ladies and gentlemen, by my office. This is John Chancellor, somewhere in custody."
At the Democrats’ 1964 convention in Atlantic City, the nomination of President Lyndon Johnson may never have been in doubt but the identity of his running mate, Hubert Humphrey, was a closely guarded secret until the very last moment. And there was plenty of high drama on the civil-rights front the pitched battle over which Mississippi delegation, the segregated regular-party delegation or the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party delegation, would be seated at the convention.
Nowadays, the presidential nominees are chosen by voters in primary elections, not by delegates in party conventions. They name their vice presidential candidates weeks before the conventions begin. There are no fights over delegates’ credentials. There is no manhandling of on-air TV reporters. From the opening gavel to the closing ceremony, the whole production is as tightly scripted, and as carefully timed, as a soap opera. Even the length of the celebrations, right down to the release of the sparkling confetti and the red, white and blue balloons, is meticulously choreographed to be ready for prime time.
Call us old-fashioned, but we kind of liked the days when political conventions got a little rowdy, generated some controversy and had at least a smidgen of unpredictability. Not that we necessarily want to be gripping the arms of our easy chair next week but it’ll be nice if we don’t fall asleep.