White's Not Right: How Democrats use Rush Limbaugh.

Let us take as a starting-off point two seemingly contradictory things. First, Tom Daschle is not a particularly stupid man. Second, his comments on November 20, about Rush Limbaugh, sounded as if he were reading them from notes written in crayon.

As we all know by now, the South Dakota senator said that he held the conservative radio star and various unnamed "Limbaugh wannabes" directly responsible for threats to his family. "What happens when Rush Limbaugh attacks those of us in public life is that people aren't satisfied just to listen," Daschle said. "They want to act because they get emotionally invested. And so, you know, the threats to those of us in public life go up dramatically." Daschle also compared Limbaugh & Co. to fatwa-issuing fanatics abroad. "You know," he intoned in his trademark stage whisper, "we see it in foreign countries and we think, 'Well, my God, how can this religious fundamentalism become so violent?' Well, it's that same shrill rhetoric, it's that same shrill power that motivates. . . . And that's happening in this country."

Daschle's asininity verges on the metaphysical. But, as Bill Clinton proved on so many occasions, there's asinine and then there's asinine like a fox. Why did he do it? Time's Karen Tumulty speculated on CNN that Daschle had had "a rough year and a half or so" and was reacting emotionally. In an editorial, The Weekly Standard declared that Daschle's comments were just an example of Democratic "sour grapes." And Rush Limbaugh himself said he considered the comments part of a "well-thought-out strategy by the Democrats to counter the influence" of his show.

None of these interpretations is inherently implausible. Daschle has had a hectic year. And, yes, it's true: The day after the election he did look like he found his Christmas pony slumped over dead under the Christmas tree on top of his presents. And, yes, there's no doubt that the Democratic grapes get more sour every day. But what these interpretations have in common is that they assume Daschle's comments constituted a spontaneous outburst -- when, in fact, Daschle's idea of spontaneity is showing up five minutes early for a dinner reservation made two weeks ago.

Limbaugh's thesis, too, is questionable. Normally, his stature rises when Democrats attack him. Whenever Bill Clinton singled him out for scorn -- for inciting the Oklahoma City bombing, for example -- it helped. Save perhaps for declaring "I'm a dittohead!" there's nothing that Daschle or Al Gore or any other prominent Democrat could say about Limbaugh that wouldn't be a boon.

No, the more logical explanation is that Daschle's was a strategic outburst. It has become a cliche to note the myriad ways September 11 changed America. But it seems to be dawning on Democrats only now how fundamental that change was. And Daschle's tantrum may reveal how much he, and other Democrats, liked the way things were before.

During the 1990s, Democrats benefited wildly from a broad cultural and political reaction against the dreaded "angry white male." Hollywood, the elite press, and academia unleashed an unrelenting assault upon white Christian guys. The decade seemed to celebrate one "Year of the Woman" after another. In a 1993 Newsweek cover story on "White Male Paranoia," a businesswoman was approvingly quoted describing all white businessmen as "a bunch of shallow, bald, middle-aged men with character disorders. They don't have the emotional capacity that it takes to qualify as human beings. The one good thing about these white, male, almost-extinct mammals is that they're growing old. We get to watch them die." To be fair, as if to temper this harsh sentiment, Newsweek did rhetorically ask, "But is the white male truly an endangered species, or is he just being a jerk?" Newsweek could not conceive of a third option.