Relief is the immediate feeling in the wake of the Iowa Caucuses by those involved: the frozen press corps, the campaigns trying to crack a hard-headed lot, and we residents who could use a respite from all the trash-talking and demonizing. This was probably the last big show. The Democratic caucuses were thrown to the wayside by the national party, and the Republican process is bound for change despite the determination of state party leaders. Iowa’s run as the kickoff state by all appearances is finished.
That’s a good thing and a bad thing. Good in that the caucuses corroded our civic life with the acid of dark money pouring on the state non-stop. Bad in that America loses an important rural filter constructed by discerning caucus-goers that forces candidates to meet voters where they are. It allowed candidates like Jimmy Carter, Barack Obama and Mike Huckabee to break through without money.
It’s been a lot of fun. We got to meet a lot of political stars. They let us mug into the TV cameras. We had earnest discussions with sincere candidates. We all became political experts.
We also became caricatures: farmers in MAGA caps feeding on Casey’s breakfast pizza, and the government trough, angry White people, slightly racist, kinda stupid and self-defeating. We are all of that, but it’s not all that.
“Why are you so angry?”
“Well, let me tell you son, it’s been a long 50 years of consolidation and decline in Iowa rural county seats. We lost the family farm somewhere along the way, and our self-respect. Do you have a few minutes?”
“No, that’ll do. Nikki Haley is about to speak on China.”
New Hampshire is pretty White. Iowa is no more racist than South Carolina. The real issue is where the money can be spent most effectively: Georgia, Arizona, Nevada, Michigan. Iowa is an inconvenience, because you have to drive all over the state, and its TV markets are inefficient (a lot of wasted eyeballs in Nebraska, South Dakota, Minnesota and Illinois).
Iowa did not mess up the caucus counting and reporting four years ago. A cellphone app did, which was prescribed by the Democratic National Committee. We got blamed for it. Once the smell of hog manure sets in, it is difficult to get out. You live with the narrative that we blundered because, well, we’re country folk who can’t organize a hootenanny.
It’s all okay. It’s not as if this whole exercise since 1972 has done Iowa that much good. The reverse is true — the independent livestock producer got buried alongside the meatpacking union, two thirds of our counties are losing population, the Main Street in Pomeroy literally is falling down, and Iowa Wesleyan University closed in Mount Pleasant. Everyone kneels at the golden calf of corn ethanol, and that’s about all the caucuses got done for us. If you’re good with ethanol, you’re good. Not sure how we will water half the nation’s cattle when the aquifer runs dry, didn’t hear a whole lot about crop insurance or a farm bill this year.
The caucuses nationalized our politics. They brought us book banning and immigrant bashing. The money and messaging are non-stop and get inside our heads. Lifelong friends from Storm Lake hurl insults at each other on Facebook, set up by the machinations in a DC suburb. It’s sad, and pathetic, because we know we are better than this. When the caucuses leave, so does the cancer of money. Or so we could hope.
We have become so extreme that a politician like Bob Ray, Fred Grandy or Berkley Bedell wouldn’t stand a chance today. A lot of that is because of the caucuses. Our polarization is more acute than it otherwise might be, were it not for the shadow of dark money that casts such a pall over us. Last week, especially as the snow flew and the cold set in, we could barely take another analysis about who we are as a state, woven in superficiality and misimpression. The more we dwell on our differences the wider they appear to have become. Yet we know what Iowans want: a decent job, great schools, clean air and water, safe streets, prosperous agriculture, and neighbors who help each other out when the lane drifts in.
With the distraction of the caucuses presumably permanently behind us, we can get back to the real work of self-governance in the spirit of civility. We can become friends and neighbors again more interested in building community than tearing things apart. The damage is not beyond repair.
Art Cullen is publisher and editor of the Storm Lake Times Pilot in northwest Iowa (stormlake.com). He won the Pulitzer Prize for editorial writing in 2017 and is author of the book “Storm Lake: A Chronicle of Change, Resilience, and Hope from America’s Heartland.” Email times@stormlake.com.
From The Progressive Populist, February 15, 2024
Blog | Current Issue | Back Issues | Essays | Links
About the Progressive Populist | How to Subscribe | How to Contact Us