Remembering Fred Harris | The Nation

In Washington and most state capitals, “political principle” has become an oxymoron, and overt political integrity is largely superseded by crude partisanship, self-promotion, and conspiratorial non-conspiracy.

Does it have to be this way?

No, I knew and worked with U.S. senators who routinely used their political prominence to achieve a little more economic equity and social justice in our country. Fred Harris passed away last month at the age of 94.

The beauty of Fred was that he was genuine. He was a down-to-earth man who rose from the red dirt countryside of Oklahoma to the heights of national politics without letting his ego consume him. Born into a poor family of sharecroppers and day laborers, he remained steeped in anti-establishment attitudes, egalitarian values, and the underdog mentality of harsh steppe populism.

Harris has lost as many battles as he has won, but throughout his long life he has never hesitated to assume power for power, embracing the wisdom of the old cowboy adage. I did. , but ride a fast horse. ”

Fred has been a model and mentor in my own pursuit of populism, from nearly defeating President Nixon’s appointment of Earl Butts as Secretary of Agribusiness to founding the American Folklife Foundation. cooperated as co-conspirators in a wide range of efforts. Particularly wild was the 1976 presidential campaign for which I served as national coordinator.

Mr. Fred launched a heretical challenge to the wealthy elites that control both parties, throwing a populist punch. “The problem is privilege,” he declared. “Too few people have all the money and power.” Furthermore, “a wide spread of economic and political power should be an explicit goal, an stated objective, of government.” he added sharply.

He took that blunt message directly to people across America in our low dollar grassroots movement. For example, I recall an Omaha rally where attendees complained that government spending was so out of control that the city was paying garbage collectors $5 an hour. Fred cut him off right then and there and asked curtly, “Is that too much?” Attendees were shocked when faced with this issue. “How much does it cost to do the job?” asked Fred, with a hint of genuine anger. He lost the guy’s vote, but he won big points for his no-bullshit honesty.

One more thing. Most powerful people in national politics do not leave Washington even if they lose an election. Instead, they become highly paid lobbyists or find themselves in corporate-funded think tanks. But Fred just packed up, left town, and left camp for New Mexico. It wasn’t to retire, it was to work. For the next 50 years, he struggled as a “citizen politician.”