over a million American workers. These union workers see no fundamental difference between the Democratic and Republican partiesâand are starting a new party. It was an important political event, yet it received virtually no media coverage. Not one word in the New York Times , the Washington Post , or the Wall Street Journal . Hey! Only representatives of a million workers coming together to form a new political party. And now for another story about our favorite billionaire, Ross Perot, and his third party.
The Labor Party convention grew out of several years of organizing by people from the Oil, Chemical and Atomic Workers, the United Electrical Workers, and other progressive unions. These union activists have long understood that negotiating a good contract for their workers is only part of their job, and that working people will continue to get the short end of the stick unless we have a government that represents their interests. The slogan of the Labor Party is, âThe bosses have two parties. We need one of our own.â Hard to argue with that.
Politicians often claim that they are running for office because âthe people urged me to do it.â This is rarely true. But in late 1980, it was true for me. Well, not exactly âthe people.â It was my good friend Richard Sugarman.
Richard, talk-show aficionado, baseball statistician, brilliant philosopher, and professor of religion at the University of Vermont, suggested that I run for mayor of Burlington against the five-term incumbent Democrat, Gordon Paquette. In Richard, you could not have found a more unlikely political adviser. As a Hasidic Jew, professor, and writer, he is deeply involved in the interpretation of sacred texts; as a philosopher, he is immersed in the abstract thought of Plato, Nietzsche, Sartre, and Levinas. But he also has a very pragmatic side. Richard is one of the sharpest political observers I have ever known.
His idea, however, seemed more than a little farfetched. âRichard, why should I run for office when Iâm happily retired from politics? How could I possibly win against an entrenched political machine? And what the hell would I do if, by some miracle, I actually won?â Those were only a few of my questions as he dragged me into the Burlington city clerkâs office in late fall 1980.
With the help of an employee in the office, Richard and I discovered the musty binder that contained the official Burlington election results from way back when. We went through and analyzed the 1976 gubernatorial election results. Patiently, he showed me a ward-by-ward breakdown of the election results, indicating how city residents had voted. Richard had a point to make: even though I received only 6 percent of the vote statewide, in Burlington I carried 12 percent, and in the two working-class wards of the city, over 16 percent.
On the basis of this showing, Richard reasoned that if all of our energy were concentrated on my hometown, we might win the upcoming mayoral election. For days and nights, friends and I argued about the wisdom of running and, if I did run, what kind of strategy made sense. Finally, convinced that for the first time I might have a real chance not only to educate the public but actually win an election, I decided to run as an Independent. I collected signatures on nominating petitions, submitted them to the city clerk, and the campaign was on its way.
And what a campaign it was! Talk about coalitions. By the time Election Day rolled around, we had brought together leaders of the low-income community, college professors, the Burlington Patrolmenâs Association, environmentalists, and conservative homeowners worried about rising property taxes.
This was not to be an âeducationalâ campaign. The goal of this contest was to win. For this reason, the campaign was issue-oriented, focused on the most serious problems facing Vermontâs largest city, problems ignored by city
James Patterson and Maxine Paetro