To solidify its militaristic stance against the Soviet Union, the White House proposed a vast expansion of the defense budget. Working with allies in Congress, Reagan steadily increased how much the nation spent on its military, reversing a sharp decline in spending initiated by Democratic Congresses after Vietnam. Secretary of Defense Caspar Weinberger, who ironically had been known as “Cap the Knife” for his budget-cutting fervor when he worked for President Nixon as director of the Office of Management and Budget, now ushered in a spending spree on the military.31 His mission, he said, was to “rearm America.” “If we value our freedom,” Weinberger insisted, “we must be able to defend ourselves in wars of any size and shape and in any region where we have vital interests.” 32 Democrats, worried about being tagged as weak on defense, were reluctant to resist calls to fund the military. As a result, defense spending increased by over 40 percent between 1980 and 1987.33
In keeping with Weinberger’s promise to fight Communism in all corners of the world, the White House instituted an aggressive new policy of interventionism through proxy wars. In Central America, the administration provided support to anti-Communist forces in Nicaragua and El Salvador. When Congress passed a series of amendments to prohibit such direct assistance in 1982 and 1984, measures known as the Boland Amendments (after their sponsor, Massachusetts Democratic congressman Edward Boland), Reagan’s advisors pressed on. Without public knowledge and in direct defiance of the law, they continued to fund the authoritarian government of El Salvador in its fight against Communist insurgents, and the Nicaraguan Contras in their battle to overthrow the left-wing Sandinista government.
One of the most daunting obstacles Reagan faced in the realm of foreign policy was the nuclear freeze movement. In June 1982, almost 700,000 people gathered in New York’s Central Park to insist Congress place limitations on the production of nuclear weapons. “Reagan is a Bomb—Both Should be Banned,” read one placard. Coretta Scott King, the widow of slain civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr., praised those in attendance: “We have come here in numbers so large that the message must get through to the White House and Capitol Hill.” A protester from upstate New York told reporters, “There’s no way the leaders can ignore this now. It’s not just hippies and crazies anymore. It’s everybody.” 34 The Reagan administration certainly took note. “We took it as a serious movement that could undermine Congressional support for the [nuclear] modernization program,” National Security Advisor Robert McFarlane recalled, “and . . . a serious partisan political threat that could affect the election in ’84.” 35 According to one internal administration poll conducted in 1982, “The American public is concerned about the possibility of the U.S. and the Soviet Union stumbling into a nuclear war. Only about 30 percent are confident that a nuclear war between the superpowers will not occur within the next decade.” 36
While the administration fretted about the domestic impact of the nuclear freeze movement, it also had to worry about its ramifications on foreign relations. Reagan enraged Europeans when he authorized the deployment of 572 intermediate-range nuclear missiles, a product of a NATO agreement from 1979, in response to the Soviet deployment of SS-20 intermediate-range missiles. The announcement, which moved the NATO member states closer to a direct military conflict, sparked massive protests throughout Western Europe. On October 22, 1983, over a million demonstrators marched to voice their opposition. In Rome, for instance, almost 100,000 people lay down on the ground in John Lateran Square as part of a “die-in” to remind the world of the impact of a nuclear war. In Bonn, West Germany, 300,000 people applauded when former chancellor Willy Brandt said, “More than 70 percent of West Germans, and this is a good thing, do not want Germany being crammed with this devilish nuclear stuff.” 37
Fears over the growing likelihood of nuclear war wound their way into popular culture, where the threat became a significant topic. The German band Nena, for instance, had a hit song “99 Luftballons,” about nuclear war being accidentally triggered by children’s balloons. Most notably, The Day After (1983) depicted in graphic detail the impact of a nuclear strike in Kansas. Nearly 100 million Americans watched the movie, making it the third-most-watched program in network history. ABC produced an eight-page viewer guide for discussions in schools and civic organizations. “Developmentally, the show could be frightening for children,” warned one psychologist. “The sense of loss suffered by the families on the screen may provoke profound fears about children’s separation from parents.” 38 Nuclear freeze organizations believed the show would help their cause. “ABC was doing a $7 million advertising job for our issue,” marveled the Campaign Against Nuclear War. Representative Edward Markey, a leading proponent of the nuclear freeze resolution in the House, concluded that it was “the most powerful television program in history.” 39
Cold War tensions continued to escalate in Reagan’s first term. On September 1, 1983, Soviet military leaders mistook a Korean airliner that had strayed into the USSR’s airspace for an American reconnaissance plane and ordered it shot down into the Sea of Japan.40 Sixty-one Americans were on board, including Congressman Larry McDonald, a conservative Democrat from Georgia. President Reagan said that he felt “revulsion” over what was a “horrifying act of violence,” abruptly ending a trip to California to return to Washington and meet with the National Security Council.41 Seeing the incident through the lens of the Cold War, congressional conservatives demanded retribution. The “deliberate murder of 269 human beings,” said Newt Gingrich, should “remind all of us of the nature of Soviet dictatorship.” 42 In an unexpected move, however, Reagan decided to take a different approach. He resisted the calls for military intervention, fearing that such action would only weaken the international outrage toward the Soviets.
But the tragedy fueled concern that the superpowers were entering a new stage of conflict, a growing sense of dread that only seemed to deepen. In November 1983, NATO launched a military training exercise called Able Archer 83. With troops from member nations spanning territory from Turkey to Britain, NATO simulated the transition from a conventional to a nuclear war. Mistaking the exercise for an actual mobilization, the Soviet leadership became convinced a nuclear attack was imminent. The Kremlin placed Soviet troops on high alert and prepared their nuclear weapons for launch.43 As Defense official Robert Gates noted in his memoirs, “they really felt a NATO attack was at least possible and they took a number of measures to enhance their military readiness short of mobilization . . . I don’t think the Soviets were crying wolf . . . they did seem to believe that the situation was very dangerous.” 44
As Cold War tensions escalated at home and abroad, Reagan sought to allay Americans’ concerns. The president announced that he was in complete agreement with the goals of the nuclear freeze movement, but differed in his approach. “A nuclear war cannot be won and must never be fought,” he announced. “So, to those who protest against nuclear war, I can only say ‘I’m with you.’ ” 45 In March 1983, he announced a new plan, the Strategic Defense Initiative, to build a “missile shield” (using X-rays and other technology) that would theoretically protect the United States from incoming missile attack. “Wouldn’t it be better to save lives than to avenge them?” the president asked.46 Most scientists and engineers, however, dismissed the proposal as a fantasy, labeling it “Star Wars” after the popular science-fiction film franchise. (Reagan officials didn’t mind their opponents using the term, rationalizing that the film had been a smash hit.) Critics, however, warned that if the program did work, it would significantly undermine the stability of international relations. For decades, both the Soviet Union and the United States had depended on the grim realities of “Mutually Assured Destruction,” the realization that each side was capable of annihilating the other in a nuclear war that therefore reduced the incentive for either side to start one. But if one side could defend against the other, as SDI proposed to do, then there would be no barrier to that side launching an attack. Ironically, the measure that
Reagan proposed to calm nuclear tensions only increased them.47
If “Star Wars” failed to dazzle, the Summer Olympics did. The administration transformed the games in Los Angeles into an advertisement for the greatness of America and, by extension, the greatness of the American president. Their effort was made all the easier by the fact that the Soviet Union boycotted the games, essentially forfeiting the competition to their rival. Reagan called the Soviets “losers” for boycotting, even though the United States had done the same four years earlier in response to the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. In sharp contrast, the host nation presented itself as a country of winners. Under the direction of businessman Peter Ueberroth, the Los Angeles Games stood as the first Olympics not funded by a government.48 Corporate sponsors and television deals paid for the events, prompting even more comparisons with the market-friendly Republican administration. Reagan was more than happy to encourage such connections. During an interview at the opening games, he told ABC anchorman Peter Jennings, “there is a great patriotic feeling that is sweeping this country and which bodes well for our future.” 49
Some, however, worried the Olympics portrayed Americans as sore winners. Events were choreographed with endless celebrations of the host nation’s athletes; fans chanting “U-S-A, U-S-A” often drowned out the rest of the arena. “Oh, what we’ve done to the Olympics,” wrote sports columnist Frank Deford. “God only knows what the 2.5 billion people around the globe who are watching the games will think of a vain America, so bountiful and strong, with every advantage, including the home court, reveling in the role of Goliath, gracelessly trumpeting its own good fortune while rudely dismissing its guests.” 50
But the fact that America finally had good fortune eclipsed everything else. When the Los Angeles games were over, the host nation stood far ahead of the rest of the world in terms of the medal count. The USA won 83 gold medals, 61 silver, and 30 bronze, for a total of 174 in all. (The next best country, for comparison’s sake, was Romania with less than a third of that: 20 gold, 16 silver, and 17 bronze, or 53 in all.) America may have been a sore winner, but it was a winner all the same.
Morning in America
In many ways, the 1984 election replayed the themes of that year’s Summer Olympics. In keeping with Reagan’s skills at stagecraft, the Republicans ran a campaign that stressed an optimistic, patriotic theme of “Morning in America.” The campaign’s one-minute centerpiece was a gauzy advertisement: “Prouder, Stronger, Better.” Produced by a group of the brightest advertisers, working out of a suite in Radio City Music Hall, the ad struck a chord.51 With sentimental music playing in the background, the ad showed paperboys riding their bicycles and families walking out onto well-manicured lawns of their suburban homes and cheerfully heading to work. “It’s morning again in America,” the narrator said in a calm, soothing voice. “Today more men and women will go to work than ever before in our country’s history. With interest rates about half the record highs of 1980, nearly 2,000 families today will buy new homes, more than at any time in the past four years. . . . It’s morning again in America, and under the leadership of President Reagan, our country is prouder and stronger and better. Why would we ever want to return to where we were less than four short years ago?” 52
The threat that America might slip back to the late 1970s seemed possible, as Democrats nominated Carter’s vice president, Walter Mondale. Mondale had secured the nomination after surviving an unexpectedly strong challenge from Colorado senator Gary Hart and civil rights activist Jesse Jackson. While Mondale stressed a return to an older style of Great Society–era liberalism, each of these challengers offered a different path for the Democratic Party.
In many ways, a forward-looking identity stood at the core of Gary Hart. First elected to Congress as part of the “Watergate Babies” class of 1974, he had quickly emerged as a leader of an emerging “neoliberalism” that sought to achieve traditional liberal goals through free-market means. (Self-consciously styling themselves as hip, forward-looking visionaries, neoliberals like Hart were known as “Atari Democrats,” named after the pioneer in home video games.) With his entrance to the Democratic primaries, Hart dismissed Mondale as a champion of a tired old liberalism. Beholden to “special interests” like labor, Mondale was nothing but a candidate from “the establishment past . . . brokered by backroom politics and confirmed by a collective sense of resignation.” Hart proved to be a surprisingly strong challenger, upsetting the favorite in the New Hampshire primary and then racking up major wins in Ohio and California. Mondale challenged Hart’s platform of “New Ideas” as lacking any real substance. In a televised debate, Mondale likened Hart’s platform to the target mocked in a popular TV commercial for Wendy’s Hamburgers: “When I hear your new ideas, I’m reminded of the ad: Where’s the beef?” The attack caught Hart off guard and resonated with voters. Mondale slowly pulled away in the remaining primaries and wrapped up the nomination.53
The other challenger, Jesse Jackson, did not pose as much of an immediate threat to Mondale, but represented a promising path forward in the future. Jackson, who had worked closely with Martin Luther King in the 1960s, continued to rely on grassroots mobilization to protect the legacy of the civil rights movement and challenge the conservative movement. After running Operation PUSH for a decade, in 1984 Jackson took over the “Rainbow Coalition,” an umbrella organization working for progressive causes such as federal health care, housing assistance, and fuller employment. The name testified to Jackson’s roots in the urban political tradition that had served as a pathway for black political success. In 1983, African American congressman Harold Washington had engineered an upset over Chicago’s incumbent mayor Jane Byrne, largely thanks to a new Democratic coalition—dubbed “the Rainbow Coalition”—that included African Americans, Hispanics, labor, and white liberals.54
Despite his origins in the black politics of Chicago, Jackson made it clear that he sought to represent all Americans, including marginalized groups from a variety of backgrounds. “This candidacy is not for blacks only,” he said when he announced his campaign. “This is a national campaign growing out of the black experience and seen through the eyes of a black perspective—which is the experience and the perspective of the rejected. Because of this experience, I can empathize with the plight of Appalachia because I have known poverty. I know the pain of anti-Semitism because I have felt the humiliation of discrimination. I know firsthand the shame of bread lines and the horror of hopelessness and despair.” 55 Though he never had a clear path to the nomination, Jackson nevertheless won millions of votes and thereby demonstrated the power of a multiracial liberal coalition. At the convention, Jackson delivered a thunderous address in which he promised delegates their work would be rewarded. “In the end, faith will not disappoint. Our time has come. Our faith, hope and dreams will prevail. Our time has come. Weeping has endured for nights, but now joy cometh in the morning.” 56
Despite their disagreements, the Democrats came together in their belief that the “Reagan Revolution” was meaningless. Mondale’s campaign redoubled the party’s emphasis on traditional policies and constituencies. Most notably, in an effort to rally women to the Democratic Party, he selected as his running mate the first woman to appear on a major party’s presidential ticket, Representative Geraldine Ferraro of New York. He coupled this forward-looking attitude on gender equality with a more traditional approach to New Deal–era economics. Yes, Mondale admitted, the nation was doing better on the whole, but Reagan had instituted a two-track economy in which the rich enjoyed the rewards of economic growth while the middle and working classes continued to struggle. The divide between rich and poor, he noted correctly, was steadily growing. During his acceptance speech, Mondale said: “Four years ago, many of you voted for Mr. Reagan because he promised you’d be better off. And today, the rich are better off. But working Americans are worse off, and the middle class is standing on a trap door.” 57 Mondale warned that these economic changes were just
a harbinger of things to come, and the middle class would steadily wither away. Specifically, he pointed to the plight of unions. In the New Deal era, they had long been an important means of accessing middle-class success, but their membership had declined from a high of more than one-third of the workforce in the 1950s to about one-fifth in the 1980s. Reagan had made challenging unions’ strength a central theme of his first term, most famously when he fired more than 11,000 striking aircraft controllers in an August 1981 showdown. As unions became endangered institutions, Mondale warned, the middle class became threatened too.58
Reagan countered by arguing that Mondale was a tired throwback. “The central economic issue in this campaign is growth,” he noted in an October radio address. “Will we have policies that give each of you opportunities to climb higher and push America to challenge the limits of growth . . . or will we go back to those failed policies of the Carter-Mondale administration that inflicted unprecedented hardship on people?” 59 In sharp contrast, his campaign advanced images of an America on the rise, especially when it came to global affairs. The patriotic imagery of the Los Angeles Olympics replayed across the country and even the world. In June 1984, Reagan had delivered a carefully staged speech at Normandy, celebrating the World War II generation and reminding the world of the noble ends American military might had previously achieved. “These are the men who took the cliffs,” Reagan said, invoking their valor. “These are the champions who helped free a continent. These are the heroes who helped end a war. . . . You all knew that some things are worth dying for. One’s country is worth dying for, and democracy is worth dying for, because it’s the most deeply honorable form of government ever devised by man.” 60 Reagan proved to be a brilliant marketer of patriotism. He even co-opted Bruce Springsteen’s “Born in the USA,” a devastating antiwar anthem about the travails of Vietnam veterans, and played it at campaign rallies as a patriotic mantra. His crowds caught the chorus, he knew, without listening to the rest of the lyrics.
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