HOW WILL WE DEFINE POLITICS?

I often find myself wishing it were possible to define more accurately the word "politics," for if there was ever a word that conveys a multitude of meanings, this one is it. To show the latitude of definition, some use the word only when it is accompanied by the word "dirty," while others try to separate its definition by being geographically correct, as in "state politics" or "national politics." Still others expand its meaning and include the pursuit of public policy and the administration of government, while a close friend who has spent his life toiling in the political vineyards, uses the word with such reverence that he appears to be praying.

While recognizing the nuances of the word, I would favor its metamorphosis into two separate and distinct categories, one being the process whereby a candidate attempts to gain public office, and the second referring to the conduct of government without undue partisan influence or political philosophy. For the latter, I much prefer the phrase public policy, which implies the skillful administration of government.

To understand why we Americans have such conflicting views of politics, let me point to the fact that while all candidates for public office must practice politics to win elections, not all politicians pursue public policy with any degree of enthusiasm or serious purpose. They remain, one can say, mere hackneyed practitioners of politics, not public servants dedicated to good, efficient government.

The inability of voters to make the distinction is, we're sorry to say, sometimes abysmally blatant. Some candidates are selected only with the proper party identification, occurring during a time when either Republicans or Democrats enjoy something akin to a complete monopoly on a set of public offices. The Democrats in Missouri enjoyed such a monopoly during the 1950s and 1960s, a period of time in which the most important qualification for a state office was membership in the party of the mule. Since politics is a transitory trade, times change even if the voters appear impervious to it, and thus the Democratic era slipped away and Missouri Republicans, led by an unlikely heir of a feed and seed business, became ascendant and controlled most state offices for more than a decade.

Both parties produced members who were successful at politics, while both provided candidates who had little interest in nor any inclination toward public policy. Since political parties have never embraced reliable litmus tests for good governors or good attorney generals or even good state auditors, anyone can enter politics and, not surprisingly, anyone can win elections.

This isn't to say Missouri hasn't had its share of outstanding public policy practitioners. We have, and we have perhaps had more than our share, although this record is subject both to chance and interpretation. Was Joe Teasdale a better governor than Phil Donnelly? Most who lived through both administrations would reply in the negative. Well, then, was Donnelly a better policy wonk than, say Warren Hearnes or Kit Bond? Again, the answer is strictly a personal one, but both Hearnes and Bond would probably win the nod simply because they lived in an age when public policy was a more recognizable art form and when conditions demanded its pursuit.

This year Missourians will witness at least two very different kinds of politics, as John Ashcroft seeks a seat in the United States Senate, and a field of widely divergent candidates within the Democratic Party seeks the right to oppose him in November. Having watched Ashcroft over a long period of time, it is safe to say that he is probably better suited to be a senator than a governor, if only because his interests seem to lie in national policy rather than with the administration of state government. This makes him resemble former U.S. senator Tom Eagleton more than former governor Hearnes, who literally gave away his certain election to the most exclusive club in the District of Columbia to remain four more years on the second floor of the Missouri Capitol.

It is my guess that even as he was filling an appointment as state auditor John Ashcroft was planning on some day running for an office in the U.S. Congress. Perhaps the same can be said of U.S. Rep. Alan Wheat, when he first became a candidate for the Missouri General Assembly. Maybe state Rep. Steve Carroll had the same idea when he first ran for the Missouri House, although I'm pretty sure Marsha Murphy wasn't aiming for Washington when she first surprised Kansas Citians by winning the county executive's job. Most political practitioners don't map out their careers the way MBAs and corporate officers do simply because their future is so uncertain and based on electoral whim rather than demonstrated ability.

What are the issues of this year's U.S. Senate race? The candidates will attempt to define them by first defining their own political qualifications. Wheat will point to his experience in the U.S. House, Carroll will note his long-held conservatism and Murphy will plead for recognition of her femaleness and her ability to upset her party's establishment. Ashcroft will note his successes as an attorney general and governor. While all of these issues will merit some serious consideration as valid reasons for electoral success, one as yet unknown argument will win out over all the others. Which is why so many people liken a successful political campaign to a full night of uninterrupted Russian roulette.

There is still another factor that enters into this year's Senate campaign that argues for separating the varied meanings of the word politics: race. Not all Missouri Democrats know that Wheat is an Afro-American, the first of his race to make a run for the U.S. Senate, and I have watched the reactions of numerous party members who, upon learning that Wheat is black, evidenced varying degrees of surprise, shock and, yes, even pain. In the field of politics, the color of a candidate's skin can make a difference, and in Wheat's case the color of his skin will also become a factor, either privately or publicly, or both. It is in the area of public policy that color makes no difference at all.

It will be fascinating, and informative, to see whether Missourians give the word politics one or two definitions in the elections of 1994.