A guide to the swing states.
Oct. 18 2004 1:35 PM


The only state to oppose Reagan flirts with conservatism.

Illustration by Mark Alan Stamaty

Quick, name a politician from Minnesota. Here are the ones that spring to my mind: Paul Wellstone, Jesse Ventura, Walter Mondale, Hubert Humphrey, Eugene McCarthy. What all these men have in common is that none is a Republican. In fact, except for the independent Ventura, they're all Democrats.

Andy Bowers Andy Bowers

Andy Bowers, the creator and executive producer of Slate podcasts, is the co-founder and chief content officer of Panoply.

Expand the pool to famous Minnesotans in general, and you get similar results: Comedian and Air America host Al Franken; public radio's Garrison Keillor, author of the new book Homegrown Democrat; and, of course, Bob Dylan.


As for nationally known Republican Minnesotans, the best I could come up with was the late Harold Stassen, famous as the nation's perennial presidential candidate, and who was actually pretty liberal.

Minnesota's presidential voting record also suggests steadfast blueness. It has gone Democratic in every election since 1960, with the sole exception of 1972. Think what that means: Minnesota was one of only 10 * states to favor Michael Dukakis in 1988 and the only state to pick Mondale over Ronald Reagan in 1984.

And yet Minnesota is up for grabs this year. To someone like me who lived in the Twin Cities in the 1980s and remembers Minnesota as flyover country's liberal redoubt, this came as a surprise. But I should have looked a little harder. Far from sudden, the change has been sneaking up on us for a while.

Minnesota earned its liberal reputation in the mid-20th century with its robust Democratic-Farmer-Labor Party—formed in 1944 when the state's Democrats merged with the progressive Farmer-Labor Party. But following DFL founder Humphrey's death in 1978, Republicans started doing better in Minnesota politics. Since that time, the state has elected four GOP U.S. senators and only two Democrats. (Currently there's one of each.) The state House, long dominated by the DFL, now has a Republican majority. In the same period, Minnesotans have chosen three Republican governors, one Democrat, and Ventura in 1998. The incumbent is a young, photogenic Republican named Tim Pawlenty. Pawlenty isn't the kind of fiscally conservative, socially moderate Republican, like Arnold Schwarzenegger or George Pataki, that you'd expect in a liberal state. Pawlenty has signed bills allowing concealed weapons and imposing a 24-hour waiting period for abortions, and he supports a ban on gay marriage.

Pawlenty was elected in 2002, which brings us to another political factor that has hurt Minnesota Democrats. If Howard Dean is still trying to live down The Scream, Gopher State Dems shiver at the mention of The Uncivil Memorial.

It followed the death of Democratic U.S. Senator Paul Wellstone and some of his family members in a plane crash 12 days before Election Day. Mondale agreed to step in and run in Wellstone's place. But at a televised memorial service for the late senator, supporters booed GOP dignitaries, and the service devolved into something like a partisan rally. Many swing voters were troubled. Republican politicians and talk radio hosts howled their indignation, and the event quickly gained more infamy than it probably deserved. Mondale lost a close race to Republican Norm Coleman, and Pawlenty captured the governor's office being vacated by Ventura.

The question is, were those GOP victories a fluke caused by the memorial's backlash, or a trend? The chair of Minnesota's Republican Party, Ron Eibensteiner, says that his party's polls showed both Coleman and Pawlenty ahead even before Wellstone's death. He says the memorial had only a marginal effect, and that the real story is that today's GOP better reflects the values of Minnesotans. But his Democratic counterpart, Mike Erlandson, is going with the fluke theory. He says his polling showed Wellstone and, later, Mondale ahead before the fateful service. "Sometimes those events that you have no control over politically impact the election more than anything else," Erlandson says ruefully.

Part of the problem for Erlandson is that the demographics that made the Democratic-Farmer-Labor Party a symbol of cutting-edge coalition-building in the 1940s no longer obtain in Minnesota. "Farmers and organized labor are a shrinking part of the population," says Larry Jacobs, director of the 2004 Election Project at the University of Minnesota's Hubert H. Humphrey Institute. "And the Democrats have been in search of a new coalition that will give them the platform to consistently win elections."