We're at the end of an era. Like a black hole, the influence of national partisanship has slowly stretched Wisconsin's progressive consensus into a thin string of molecules spinning quietly into the morass of history. These state budget negotiations are merely the event horizon, and all memory of compromise will fade almost imperceptibly into a timeless abyss.
As Republicans and Democrats continue to trudge along on a budget already months overdue — and not expected until Christmas — we can be assured that like most political phenomena, this was a long time coming. In the long shadow of Republican Sen. Robert Lafollette, Wisconsin embraced a renegade ideal — principled government uncorrupted by powerful financial interests. Throughout the early 20th century, the spirit of the progressive era was sustained through a confluence of favorable factors. Blacks in the inner cities distrustful of typical conservative politics allied with populist farmers and rural laborers who felt shafted by the financial elite.
The simmering tension and hair-splitting compromise that has typified this and the previous decade has finally bubbled over. There is no more room for compromise and no more bipartisan face to save. The path toward a consensus budget is littered with ideological sacrifices so deep that activists won't forgive legislators for giving an inch. Meanwhile, the pressure to reach an agreement escalates daily under a flood of editorials and constituent calls. Quite frankly, most everyone is choking under the pressure as the two sides remain billions of dollars apart with few big-ticket items left to be sacrificed.
Wisconsin has finally reached the crossroads. Are we the state of Sen. Russell Feingold or another bastion for cultural conservatism? It's easy to miss the conflict here in Madison, where the preachers on library mall seem like zealous extremists rather than right-of-center activists, but this question dominates Wisconsin politics. That's why there can be no easy compromise — each side is convinced it is fighting for the life of its ideology.
Tommy Thompson somehow held off a collision between right and left in the ’90s by forging a coalition between the newly minted cultural conservatives and pragmatic urban moderates. His Reagan undertones inspired a generation of activists and politicians alike. Many of whom, quite frankly, voted against their own economic interests. That's not necessarily a bad thing — until you look at the dismal economy and budget Thompson left the hapless Scott McCallum with in 2001. (McCallum later traded $1.6 billion in tobacco money for a Nokia non-flip phone and half a diet cherry Pepsi.)
When given the opportunity to attack Gov. Doyle over his handling of the state budget in 2005, Rep. Scott Fitzgerald's spokesman told me, "I think the governor should be credited for not putting more policy into the budget." You know Thompson and McCallum did horribly when even Republicans aren't ready to throw a Democrat under the bus for fiscal mismanagement.
Nonetheless, the tension between Wisconsin and its principal cities Milwaukee and Madison has often spilled into public discourse in the past few years. In one of the most brilliant maneuvers in political history, Mark Green referred to "Planet Madison" during his failed gubernatorial run. Indeed, the division between rural and city Wisconsin has become frighteningly deep if a gubernatorial candidate is willing to write off getting a respectable number of votes in its second-largest city.
Rural Republicans have claimed for years that Milwaukee is a drain on the state, while Milwaukee Democrats have too often been radicals unwilling to reach out. This rift may provide opportune moments for politicians to promote ideology, but legislative failure to work together for years has severely hurt quality of life in much of Wisconsin. Because of the big city versus small town warfare that has plagued the statehouse, Milwaukee public schools never received the priority they deserve. This potential brain factory has become a veritable wasteland. A new study shows Wisconsin has the largest reading gap in the nation between black and white students, no doubt because of the abysmal state of public schools in our inner cities, especially MPS in Milwaukee.
While a generation wanders into life and our streets without ambition, Republicans claim negotiation can include a pledge for no new taxes, and Democrats bandy about bargaining chips like the surprise addition of a $15 billion tax hike. Let's hope our elected representatives are having a good time in there, as we wait for them to emerge from the chambers and tackle the societal cost of years of neglect. One side's ideology might emerge intact, but Wisconsin and its long-term prospects won't without an educated workforce.
Bassey Etim ([email protected]) is a senior majoring in political science and journalism.
