Another Realignment in the People's Republic

FLASHBACK: When Progressives Lost Control of City Hall

It was Burlington's first mayoral race since the repeal of instant run-off voting. But there was no need for a second round. Miro Weinberger won handily in March 2012 with more than 5,800 votes. The turnout was above 10,000, up from 2009, when incumbent Progressive Bob Kiss won a second term in a close, controversial race with Kurt Wright that led to the end of IRV.

Miro Weinberger and Tim Ashe at the Epic Caucus; 
Below, Mayor Bob Kiss and Kurt Wright 

     Under-estimated from the start, Weinberger delivered on a campaign plan to make inroads in the more conservative North End, but also polled above expectations in poor neighborhoods. In Ward 3, where Gordon Paquette – the last Democratic mayor — won his earliest victories, also the neighborhood from which Terry Bouricius introduced “third party” politics to the City Council in 1981, Weinberger was the top vote-getter with 65 percent.
     When Mayor Bernie Sanders ran for re-election the first time in 1983, he won 52 percent of the vote and spent about $30,000. Weinberger’s victory was bigger, but it also cost him four times as much.
     In 1987, Sanders defeated Democrat Paul Lafayette in five out of six wards. Then the new, local Progressive Party was close to having a majority. In 2012, however, after electing three mayors over 31 years and being the largest faction on the City Council, it chose not to field a candidate for mayor, dissociated itself from the incumbent it had put in office, and recruited only two candidates. The party chose not to endorse Weinberger, Wright or independent Wanda Hines. But Progressive Councilor Vince Brennan did back Wright, who also won the support of Independent Sharon Bushor and Sandra Baird, a former Democratic legislator and Progressive critic.
     During the run-up to the Democratic Party caucus, state Sen. Tim Ashe, once a Progressive city councilor, looked like a more polished player with the necessary cross-party appeal. Others thought that Bram Kranichfeld, the 31-year-old council newcomer from Ward 2, had some crucial backing from party stalwarts. Both of them, along with state Rep. Jason Lorber, were defeated in the course of an epic Democratic caucus that had to be reconvened in December after Weinberger and Ashe tied in the third round.
     At Weinberger’s campaign announcement the previous September, held next door to City Hall in a former firehouse managed by Burlington City Arts, the first-time candidate charged that Mayor Kiss had put the city in “an exceptionally poor negotiating position.” Reluctance to discuss the details of Burlington Telecom finances had “left a mood of anger and anxiety about our future,” he charged. The 41-year-old housing developer also criticized the administration’s failure to secure funding before starting on a $14 million airport parking lot expansion.

     He looked like the underdog to Republican Kurt Wright throughout most of the general election. Although Weinberger raised more than twice the money and had the Democratic establishment in his corner, Wright appeared to have an inherent edge. He had waged two previous mayoral battles, had a working knowledge of city policies and operations gained over 20 years as a councilor and state lawmaker, and was creating a nonpartisan coalition that looked a little like the one that had worked well for Bernie Sanders. None of it was enough.
     Afterward, Progressive Party Vice Chair Elijah Bergman argued that the Democrat’s victory wouldn’t have happened without Progressive support. If so, the assistance for Weinberger was capped by the endorsement of Bernie Sanders, issued one week before the vote.
     On the same Town Meeting Day, across the state more than 60 communities, including most of Vermont's largest, passed resolutions recommending a constitutional amendment to make sure that corporations do not continue to have First Amendment rights as people. In Burlington, the call passed with almost 80 percent. A separate advisory resolution inspired by the Occupy protests also did well. In a tradition that dates back to the 1980s, voters urged the state and federal governments to adopt revenue and investment policies that reduce the growing disparity of wealth and ask the largest corporations to pay a fair share of taxes.
     Max Tracy won easily as a Progressive in Ward 2, an area situated between the university and the waterfront in the Old North End. This was also where Hines had her best turnout, 15 percent. But the groundswell she predicted didn't materialize. In North and South End wards she attracted between 2 percent and 4 percent. The overall results also represented a setback for the GOP, which lost both a council seat and the immediate presence of Wright, the party’s most visible leader. Hines turned out to be a weaker candidate than expected, while Wright reached an apparent ceiling on his appeal.
     Three decades of executive power had ended for the progressive movement. But Weinberger promised not to “clean house” and offered to provide continuity. In a sign of the political realignment to come, his initial budget advisory team featured former Progressive official Carina Driscoll, Sanders' step-daughter and future mayoral candidate; longtime business leader Pat Robins; former independent candidate Dan Smith, son of Republican Peter Smith, whom Sanders defeated to enter Congress; and Doug Hoffer, once a CEDO staffer in the Progressive era and soon-to-become Progressive/Democrat State Auditor.

Progressive Vermont: The Winding Road to Fusion

For most Vermonters the biggest stories five years ago were the state’s response to Hurricane Irene -- the state’s worst natural disaster since 1927, the struggle over closure of Vermont Yankee, and passage of the first-in-the-nation universal health care system. After almost a decade the state also had another Democratic governor, Peter Shumlin, who pledged to usher in single-payer health insurance and usher out Yankee. Meanwhile, around the country people were starting to rally to Bernie Sanders' economic critique.

     The larger story, in the Green Mountains and beyond, was the sea change in public discourse – from anti-government rage to a more progressive focus (also angry) on economic inequality and concentration of wealth. At the time conservatives called the new movement class warfare, but it actually reflected an overdue recovery from a period of national amnesia. 
      The pace of change was quickening – revolt across the Middle East, Greece and other countries on the verge of economic default, plus a titanic struggle for the soul of the US in the presidential race. Democrats were experiencing Obama Fatigue, while among the leading Republican candidates Mitt Romney had the organization and the money. But he was a member of the 1%, a “vulture capitalist” who seemed to lack core principles.

     From Vermont to San Francisco, thousands were protesting the growing wealth disparity between the rich and almost everyone else. Using social networks and a collective approach the Occupy movement had spread rapidly to hundreds of cities, gaining momentum as unions and politicians offered support. According to a Gallup poll, 44 percent of Americans felt that the economic system was personally unfair to them. More to the point, the top 1 percent had greater net worth than the “bottom” 90 percent. And in an unusual generational twist, more people under 30 viewed the general concept of socialism in a positive light than capitalism.

     The number of Vermonters living in poverty had changed little in the previous 40 years, moving almost imperceptibly from 12.1 percent in 1969 to 11.5 percent in 2009. In early 2012 Vermont Interfaith Action – part of a national group that was looking for solutions to “systemic issues that prevent our most vulnerable citizens from enjoying the quality of life God intends for us all” – confronted several lawmakers and Secretary of Administration Jeb Spaulding with this disquieting reality at the Ohavi Zedek Synagogue in Burlington.

     The gist was that state government had failed to effectively address economic inequality. The event, billed as an “economic action,” attracted about 125 people from a variety of faith communities on a wintry Sunday afternoon. The issue of poverty was being “held hostage to a shortage of funds created in part by the refusal to ask wealthy Vermonters to do more,” the report’s authors declared. They accused state leaders of having succumbed to fear “by some who claim that raising taxes on the wealthy will result in capital flight.”

     When asked if he would work to avoid cuts in social programs by raising taxes on the wealthiest Vermonters, Tim Ashe joined the two other senators, Democrat Sally Fox and Progressive/Democrat Anthony Pollina, in saying they were on board. Rep. Martha Heath, who chaired the House Appropriations Committee, was more equivocal. It would depend on balancing various needs, she explained, and urged those in the room to make their case at legislative hearings.

     State funding was being misallocated, Ashe charged. He pointed specifically at the Vermont Training Program, a Department of Economic Development initiative that subsidized wages and trained employees in new and existing businesses. Although the emphasis was supposed to be on enterprises that could not afford to fund training, profitable enterprises like Green Mountain Coffee Roasters and General Electric Aviation in Rutland had received more than $400,000.

     When his turn came to speak Pollina pointed to a drop in median family income for Vermonters. Inequality was greater than at any time since the 1930s Depression. But his prescriptions, beyond some tax changes, were to improve the process for setting the state budget and develop a state bank, an unlikely proposal that had been part of the Liberty Union Party’s platform four decades before.

From Outside to Inside 

Anthony Pollina was elected to the state Senate in 2010, and joined Tim Ashe as the second Progressive leader to run successfully as a fusion candidate with both the Democratic and Progressive nomination. It was his first term in office. Yet Pollina had entered statewide politics with a splash many years earlier. In 1984, he had won an insurgent victory in the Democratic primary for US Congress, then decisively lost in the general election to Jim Jeffords, the popular incumbent.

     He didn’t run again for 16 years, but served during the 1990s as Senior Policy Advisor to then-Congressman Sanders. He also fought for campaign finance reform legislation that established public funding for statewide political campaigns. In 2002, however, when his campaign for Lt. Governor failed to qualify for public funding Pollina filed a lawsuit in federal court to overturn the law.

     Running for governor as a Progressive in 2000 Pollina received 9.5 percent in a crowded field with Republican Ruth Dwyer, who received 37.9 percent, and incumbent governor Howard Dean, who won with 50.4. Two years later, in the race for Lt. Governor, he received 24.8 percent in a three way race, behind Shumlin, with 32.1 percent, and Brian Dubie, who won with 41.2. Dean had retired, and was planning a race for President. Michael Badamo ran for governor as a Progressive – without much support from the Party, and got only .6 percent. Jim Douglas was elected.

     In 2004, Peter Clavelle, in the midst of his last term as the mayor, returned to the Democratic Party and challenged Douglas’s first re-election bid. Douglas won again, this time with 57.8 percent. Clavelle received only 37.9. The Progressive Party didn’t field a candidate for governor that year, or in 2006.

     Pollina ran for governor again in 2008. But at a July press conference the Progressive leader announced that he would appear on the ballot as an Independent. It was “by far the best way” to build a coalition, he now claimed. The decision raised questions about his reasons and the future of the party.

     Both Sanders and his predecessor Jeffords had been embraced as Independents, Pollina argued. But Sanders became an Independent in the late 1970s after several disappointing runs as a third party candidate. At the time he publicly announced that the timing wasn’t right for a new party. He had since served four terms as Burlington mayor and eight as a US Congressman, before running for the US Senate in 2006. In every race he ran as an Independent.

     Jeffords, on the other hand, was a life-long Republican, serving in the US House and Senate for decades. He left the GOP in 2001, citing deep differences with the Republican leadership and the Bush administration. It turned out to be his last term, and there was no way to know how Vermont voters would have responded had he attempted to run for re-election as an Independent.

     Pollina’s reasons were different. He had devoted years to building Vermont’s Progressive Party, and had declined to enter the Democratic primary earlier the same year, saying he had no intention of running as anything but a Progressive. “You know, I’m a Progressive,” he told columnist Peter Freyne. “I’m not going to leave the Progressive Party to become a candidate of another party.”

     Doing so "would undermine people's faith in me and also in the process," he said,  " I woudn't be too surprised if there were Democrat who would accuse me of being oportunistic in switching parties." Once he announced the intention to switch his status, Democrats did exacty that. "This is about opportunistic decision-making," Democratic Party Chair Ian Carlton told The Burlington Free Press. 
       The underlying question raised by Pollina’s decision was whether it was more important to build a party or win a race. Thirty years earlier Sanders had faced the same choice, made it, and held office almost continuously since 1981 – as an Independent. Although the unofficial head of the state’s progressive movement, he never joined a party and didn’t feel accountable to any partisan line. At times he was criticized for not doing enough to build an alternative to the Republicans and Democrats. He ignored the critique.

     By running as an Independent Pollina claimed that he hoped to build on his Progressive base, possibly as high as 25 percent, attracting voters who had no allegiance to the other two major parties. If he succeeded, in theory the chances increased that neither Democratic challenger Gaye Symington nor Douglas would get 50 percent. If that happened, Vermont’s Legislature would pick from among the top three vote getters. It seemed like a long shot.

     Traditionally, Vermont lawmakers went with the person who received the most votes – but they weren’t required to do so. Democrats had a 60-vote edge in the state legislature, not counting the six Progressives and two Independents in the House of Representatives. If Symington, Speaker of the Democrat-dominated House, came in first or a close second, they might well choose her over Douglas. If Pollina beat them, even by a few votes, he could plausibly argue that picking anyone else would be undemocratic. At least theoretically, he could create that situation by getting no more than 34 percent.

     Abbott’s endorsement indicated that the Progressive Party’s leadership backed his play. As Pollina argued, they didn’t want to let a label get in the way of victory. On the other hand, the party's leadership had misjudged its base in the past. A prime example was Burlington after Clavelle, when leadership backed the Democrat but the grassroots recruited an upset winner, Bob Kiss. 

     Pollina’s 2008 campaign won the support of the three largest unions in the state. The Vermont-National Education Association backed an independent candidate for governor for the first time. He also received support from the Gun Owners of Vermont, a "libertarian" connection Sanders also made in campaigns. When the votes were counted, however, he came in with 21.8 percent, just a tenth of a percentage ahead of the Democrat. Douglas won again, this time with 53.4 percent.
      Two years ater Pollina ran for the state Senate --and won -- as a Progressive and Democrat. Since then Stae Auditor Doug Hoffer and Lt. Gov. David Zuckerman have taken the same path to victory. 

This article is adapted from Progressive Eclipse, available from Amazon, based on reporting for VTDigger. To download a sample:
 PROGRESSIVE ECLIPSE: BURLINGTON, BERNIE AND THE MOVEMENT THAT CHANGED VERMONT

Burlington in the Age of Burke

For these Burlington stories, let’s start in September 1902, ten years before Teddy Roosevelt’s famous 1912 visit to Barre. The President had been to the Queen City a year earlier. That day he was riding with Percival Clement on his railroad after a visit with Vermont Lieutenant Governor Nelson Fisk at Isle LaMotte. Then word came through that President McKinley had been shot by what the papers were calling a “crazed anarchist.”
     Now, a year later, Roosevelt – ridiculed as a “wild man,” that “damned cowboy” hated by Wall Street, Vice President under McKinley for less than a year – triumphantly returned to Burlington as President.
     Clement was about to play a strange and convoluted role in Vermont’s progressive history. Decades before his stiff resistance to womens’ suffrage he was part of a progressive fusion movement that attempted to overthrow the Proctor Republicans. He was also a railroad tycoon, owner of the Rutland Herald, and friend of Teddy Roosevelt.
     In 1902 Mayor Donley C. Hawley stood with the new president at the train barn near the waterfront, surrounded by flags and bunting. Roosevelt told the Vermonters, “You have always kept true to the old America ideals – the ideals of individual initiative, of self-help, of rugged independence, of the desire to work and willingness, if need, to fight.”
     The truth is, Republicans like Hawley were actually suspicious of “their” president. His rhetoric about a “square deal” for working people and control of big business sounded, well…. radical. But Democrats like James Burke were unabashed admirers. Burke was an Irish Catholic blacksmith and a leading spokesman for the city’s growing Democratic Party. He had been an alderman and run unsuccessfully for mayor in 1900 and 1902. Now he was part of a statewide fusion movement with dissident Republicans. Like Roosevelt, he projected himself as a pragmatic reformer, thriving on idealism, moral outrage and an ability to inspire the masses.

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March 3, 1903. The hotly contested mayoral race between Burke and Hawley drew an overflow crowd to the city clerk’s office that night. The men in the room – remember, only men could vote – perched on windowsills or stood on the rail that surrounded the aldermanic table. As the results for various wards were announced the winning side cheered. Hawley, who was a surgeon, came out of top in the affluent areas. But Burke’s persistence was finally paying off in the inner-city, immigrant wards. And he had two compelling issues: a proposed city-owned light plant and local licensing of saloons.
     When the final votes were tallied, Hawley had a three-vote margin. But that was because City Clerk Charles Allen refused to count ballots marked twice. Burke was livid and took the matter to the Vermont Supreme Court – and won, gaining certification of an 11-vote victory by early summer.
     It took more time, but he also got a light plant. Two years later, during his third one-year term, Burke’s daughter Loretta pressed a button at the bandstand in City Hall Park energizing two circuits of streetlights with power from the newly built plant.

Attempted Fusion

Burke’s political vision stretched beyond the borders of the city, and by 1906 he became further embroiled in an effort to wrest control of the governor’s office from the Republicans. To attempt it he forged a delicate personal alliance with Percival Clement.

Percival Clement

    The Burke-Clement alliance was largely rooted in political expediency. Both men wanted to be governor and knew that a Democrat could not win statewide. Both had also been mayors, Clement in Rutland, although his control of the Rutland Railroad didn’t ease negotiations about the Burlington waterfront, which was owned by Clement’s line and Central Vermont Railway. But there was also an ideological affinity that bridged the class barrier between them. Both were ardent supporters of the “local option” to issue saloon licenses and vocal critics of graft by marble and coal interests dominating the GOP.
     In 1906, Roosevelt was on the attack against the beef, oil and tobacco trusts. In Vermont Clement was still warring with the Proctors, especially Fletcher Proctor, the Republican candidate for governor.
     Burke had won another term as mayor over Walter Bigelow, the 40-year-old chairman of the state Republican Party and night editor at the Burlington Free Press.  He saw a “bright and glorious future” for the city and wanted people to move beyond “a narrow or partisan point of view.” That was also part of the reason he was involved in the movement Clement was building.
     At first it was called the “Bennington idea,” referring to the town where petitions first circulated for Clement to lead an independent movement that aimed to “save the state” after 50 years of Republican rule. But Clement’s supporters felt that a fusion with Democrats was essential, so 1906 they tried to induce Burke to join the ticket.
     Burke wasn’t persuaded. Giving Clement the Democratic nomination would effectively put him in control of the party. If a Democrat won the presidency in 1908 Clement would get to hand out the patronage. The Democrats were still divided on June 28, the day both the Independent and Democratic state conventions were held in Burlington.
     The Independents convened in City Hall. The Democrats met at the armory. Meanwhile a joint committee worked out an agreement to divide the state ticket. The Democrats would field candidates for half of the slate, Independents would fill the rest. After accepting the Independent nod Clement walked with Burke to the Strong Theater for a joint assembly.
     The debate over fusion was heated. Some people accused Burke of opposing the idea because he couldn’t head the ticket. Eventually speaking for himself, Burke reminded the audience that he had backed fusion under Clement four years earlier. But the “local option” for alcohol was no longer a galvanizing issue and Clement was, after all, still basically a Republican.
     The Democrats rejected Burke’s advice and approved a joint slate headed by Clement and Democrat C. Herbert Pape. With more than a thousand people packing the theater, Clement took center stage, Burke at his side, and launched into a long and fiery attack on the Republican machine, the marble companies, and the inefficiency and graft that was robbing the people.
     Burke actively backed Clement’s war on the Proctor Republicans, spending much of his time that summer on the campaign trail attacking Republican graft and rule. As usual, his rhetoric was also rich with praise of Roosevelt, calling him “the greatest Republican since Lincoln and the greatest Democrat since Jefferson.”
     “Reform is in the air,” he shouted from the back of Clement’s private train that fall, “and Vermont will share in the benefits that come from the general revolt being made against ring rule and graft.” Burke envisioned a popular coalition of Lincoln Republicans and Jefferson Democrats that would wipe out party lines. It might even combat corporate lobbying on labor issues like the nine-hour day and minimum wage.
     But Fusion was defeated by Republicans united behind Proctor that November. And the following March, Burke came up short in his first mayoral race in five years – to Walter Bigelow. The defeat was devastating for political allies who lost their jobs and watched old opponents return to power. Twelve years later, in 1918, Clement did become governor – as a Republican.

NEXT: On the Waterfront

Tim Ashe and the Fusion Option

Progressive Eclipse – Chapter Four

TWO DAYS AFTER officially becoming a candidate for mayor, Tim Ashe participated in his first debate. At the Champlain Elementary School he defined himself as the one person in the race “who can bring people together and end the partisan fighting.” His strategy was “fusion,” which would require his nomination by both the Democratic and Progressive Parties.

Tim Ashe

Seated nearby were three other contenders for the job. City Councilor Bram Kranichfeld talked about the need to restore fiscal responsibility, trust, and accountability. Airport Commissioner Miro Weinberger described his business and leadership experience, and state legislator Jason Lorber told a moving personal story about values, trust and strength.

In an interview, Ashe, a 34-year-old state lawmaker already involved in Vermont politics for more than a decade, described how he saw things: “I’ve been forthcoming about my desire to bring Progressives and Democrats together to stop this crazy infighting that is so counter-productive.”

It wouldn’t be an easy pitch to sell. His first job after graduating from UVM was with Bernie Sanders, who'd been fighting Democrats and Republicans for years. Next, Ashe served three terms on the City Council as a Progressive. But more recently he had been elected to the House, then the Senate with the backing of both parties. Now his goal was to win a city caucus competition over Democrats with strong party connections. He would also “accept” the Progressive nomination, he explained, but only if he first won the Democratic nod.

If that didn't happen, Progressives would have a problem – scramble to find someone else, settle for Bob Kiss – the Progressive incumbent who’d alienated his base – or no candidate at all. Comfortable with Ashe, if not all the options, Party leaders decided to wait and see.

Ashe makes a point; to his right, Lorber, Kranichfeld and Weinberger  

Of course, they also knew Ashe was in a unique spot. Under Progressive Party rules, only someone who had already run solely as a Progressive could accept the nomination of another party. No other Democratic candidate qualified. On the other hand, it was precisely Ashe’s allegiance to the Progressive Party that made some Democrats skeptical, if not hostile. While Ashe argued that his ties to both parties made him the best option for preventing a Republican victory, Weinberger’s answer was that he would nevertheless be seen by many voters as an ally of Mayor Kiss. He certainly had been in the past.

During their first debate, one audience question went straight at the point: Would the losing candidates actively support whoever wins the caucus? The other three candidates had no trouble sounding unequivocal. But Ashe suggested that his backing, while likely, was not unconditional. It would depend, he said, on “a compact that all candidates live up to. We’ll see if the high road is taken.”

Defining the dysfunction

With links to two major parties, Ashe didn’t think political labels were the real issue. “Parties would be Ok if the process was more civil,” he said. “But the response to every significant challenge is people carving out factional interests on the council – not always along party lines.”

This he called “the political dysfunction, the constant theater at City Hall,” one of two “deep sets of problems” that had prompted him to run. “Anyone who has followed the Council knows it has been dysfunctional and marred by constant sniping,” he said. But the other trouble was financial, he acknowledged, mentioning Burlington Telecom, an estimated $50 million pension fund liability, and looming budget cuts.

Ashe conveniently placed much of the blame on Kiss, charging the mayor had demonstrated “a complete lack of leadership.” His primary deficit -- failure to communicate, Ashe charged. “So much of the good will he ought to have was squandered.” He didn’t mention Peter Clavelle, the previous Progressive mayor, who had negotiated the pension benefits and pushed through the development of BT.

The problem with the argument was that his view of Kiss changed only after his re-election in 2009. Endorsing Kiss at a January 2009 press conference, Ashe had expressed “deep support” and praised the mayor’s whole team for pulling “rabbits out of hats.” Kiss had “cleaned up financial messes,” Ashe claimed. “If that’s drifting then let’s keep drifting.”

Of course, that was before the public learned that Kiss and his Chief Administrative Officer Jonathan Leopold had kept a $16.9 BT debt to the city treasury secret. As a candidate Ashe was going public with a revised, very different assessment. “He didn’t share information with the public,” Ashe said,“this hasn’t happened since Day One.” It was hard not to ask why he hadn’t mentioned it earlier.

 

Mayor Kiss and Kurt Wrght

Tough criticism was also directed at Wright. Responding to the Republican’s proposal that the city could reduce its debt by selling the Burlington Electric Department, Ashe called the idea “totally half-baked” and “insane at this point in a campaign.”

Ashe had worked with Wright on the City Council. In fact, they'd once competed for the job of Council President. Wright won that competition in 2007 with the support of most council Democrats, who didn’t bother to nominate their own candidate. Ashe was not pleased.  “Democrats have been quite concerned with this vote,” he claimed at the time. “I'm not sure it's all been fair.”

After leaving local office for the State House, however, he had kind words for Wright’s leadership on the Council and Board of Finance. The local mood had changed dramatically in a year, especially after the BT revelations surfaced. The Council put Leopold on paid leave and began to investigate. Meanwhile, Wright and others, Republicans and Democrats, backed resolutions to consider mayoral recall and impeachment as charter changes.

Now highly critical of Mayor Kiss, Ashe said he wanted to “preserve the progressive legacy” with “a mayor who reflects the values ingrained for three decades.” The key going forward would be “an inclusive approach.”

He also promised to apply the principle to Occupy Wall Street. Burlington was “in the vanguard of meeting the demands of this movement,” he said. “The first step would be to meet with representatives to better understand their local goals.” But at least publicly, neither he nor any of the other candidates did.

“An Unusual Path”

Growing up in Massachusetts, Tim Ashe moved to Burlington to attend UVM, joined Bernie Sanders’ staff shortly after graduating, and attended Harvard’s Kennedy School of Government before his election to the City Council. In a 2004 special election he replaced Carina Driscoll, daughter of Sanders’ wife Jane, and became the Council’s youngest member.

It was clear by then that he had a promising political future. During this period Ashe also met his partner, Paula Routly, publisher and co-editor of Seven Days. After he became a candidate for mayor, Routly announced that she would not “assign or edit stories or columns about Burlington politics for the duration of the campaign.”

Professionally, Ashe had worked with residents in mobile home parks at the Champlain Valley Office of Economic Opportunity, then became a Project Manager at Cathedral Square, a non-profit developer of affordable housing for seniors and people with disabilities. As a city councilor he had made affordable housing a major focus. And he wasn’t reluctant to take controversial stands at times, even if it meant an unusual alliance. In 2008, for example, he worked with Ed Adrian, frequently an administration critic, on an unsuccessful ballot item request that would have asked voters to decriminalize small quantities of marijuana possession. The proposal was defeated in a 7-6 vote.

But those were more upbeat times locally, before the financial collapse of 2008, the increased polarization following Barack Obama’s election, and the growing outrage about corporate greed and government overreach. Looking forward, Ashe saw “real financial threats” on the horizon. “Jobs and programs will be on the line,” he predicted. “To not recognize that is to be asleep at the wheel.”

His campaign pitch was that looming threats, combined with Burlington’s unique political dynamics, called for someone able to unite a “new majority.” However, his strategy of fusion wasn’t a familiar concept for most local voters. Candidates did win multiple party endorsements, and even ran as Republican/Democratic candidates at times. But this was usually due to a lack of competition or the nature of the office. A few Progressives in the legislature had run with Democratic support. But fusion as a tactic for a campaign was an urban, and often partisan, political strategy.

In New York City, for example, fusion was once the only way a Republican could become mayor; the tactic was used to bring together clean government supporters across party lines in the name of reform. The most famous fusion politician in the Big Apple was Fiorello LaGuardia. Although a Republican, nearly half his votes for New York mayor in 1933 came from Progressives and Fusionists. 

Weinberger & Ashe at the Caucus

“There are two prerequisites for the next mayor,” Ashe proposed, “the experience to do the job, but secondly, the person making the decisions must embody the values of the vast majority – on energy efficiency, peace, health care, economic equity – all the things that make people proud of Burlington. None of the others can measure up in both areas.”

It was a plausible argument. But Ashe still faced two major hurdles: convincing enough Progressives – many of whom were weary of Kiss yet remained “hard-core Ps,” as a staffer put it – that attending a Democratic caucus wouldn’t undermine their Party. And, at the same time, persuading wary Democrats that this wasn’t just a Progressive takeover ploy, that he truly wanted to be more inclusive and less partisan.

To defend against Internet attacks that he was the mayor’s lackey, Ashe went on offense. “I’ve taken an unusual path," he said, "but I don’t apologize.” In fact, his successful Senate run, with the support of both Democrats and Progressives, had “changed the culture of the Senate” and created the possibility of a “new era of collaboration.”

Yet he also had a message for his base. By joining forces with past opponents, Ashe suggested, they would be in a better position to preserve “a legacy we can be proud of” – meaning the projects and achievements of three Progressive administrations.

NEXT: Rhetoric & Reality in the Sanders Era