Why Is Howard Dean So Quiet?

Howard Dean's name gets invoked a lot these days. Remember how he was supposed to be the Democratic nominee in 2004, and he blew it with a scream? Truth is, his candidacy had come apart long before he let loose on national television, but that wild and unscripted moment ensured his place in American political folklore.

It's curious that the guy famous for his scream has been so quiet lately. Of course, the party likes him better when he's muzzled. Dean has never fit in with Washington's ways. He does things impulsively, even autocratically, in a town where schmoozing is a high art and outsiders are suspect. Party insiders will never forgive him for trashing Democrats along with Republicans when he launched his insurgent campaign. He's quiet now because he's got a weak hand reeling in a powerful swing state that's out of his control.

Dean's threatened refusal to seat Florida's delegates at the party's national convention next August is the political equivalent of the scream—a cockamamie decision that reinforces the view that he's not ready for prime time. "He's become what he ran against," says a longtime Democrat, citing Dean's insularity. This source, who requested anonymity so as not to offend the chairman, recalls that when Al Gore endorsed Dean in the primaries—a major coup that another politician would have milked for maximum advantage—Dean held the information so close he didn't even tell his campaign manager. A spokesperson for Dean turned down several requests for an interview with NEWSWEEK.

Since Florida Democrats had no control over the Jan. 29 primary date (originally scheduled for March 4, 2008) voted on by the Republican-controlled state legislature and signed into law by Florida's GOP Gov. Charlie Crist, couldn't Dean just let it slide and say, "We'll sort it out next time"? He's already had discussions with his counterpart at the Republican National Committee about 2012. Why not hand the mess to the next administration instead of giving the Democrats a black eye in the state that was ground zero in the 2000 campaign and could once again decide the presidency? The RNC says it will strip half the state's delegates as punishment for moving up the primary date, which state officials did to gain advantage in the nominating process, and to schedule a hotly debated property-tax measure.

Dean is in something of a box. The intraparty sparring with Florida, and now Michigan, is more complicated than his heavy-handedness suggests. His job as chairman of the Democratic National Committee is to uphold party rules governing the primary calendar that were arrived at by a commission created by his predecessor, Terry McAuliffe. The commission recommended expanding the early voting states to include more geographical and ethnic diversity, and Nevada and South Carolina were selected in a competitive process with other states.

Florida did not apply; even if it had, it wouldn't have made the cut because it's too big and the goal is to have smaller states go first to allow candidates without significant name recognition and money to compete. Other powerhouse states like California and New Jersey moved up to Feb. 5, staying within the window agreed upon by both major parties. "The people of Florida think they're being picked on, but he's defending the regulations and statutes," says Mark Siegel, a former executive director of the DNC. "That's his job."

The leading Democratic candidates have signed a pledge not to campaign in any of the so-called rogue states, but once the early primaries are over and New Hampshire's sanctified status is upheld, they'll be in Florida. It's too important a swing state to ignore. And once the party has a nominee, Dean will probably be pushed aside. He'll still be chairman in title, but the nominee will put her or his own people in charge. If Hillary wins the nomination, her longtime consigliere, Harold Ickes, would be an obvious choice to insure the party apparatus is in sync with the campaign.

The spat with Florida is about Dean as much as it is about the inside baseball of securing the nomination. The state chairs love him because of his 50-state strategy. He's determined to rebuild the party, and he's put money and resources into places the national party gave up on a long time ago. But in a year where Democrats are going gangbusters, the DNC lags behind the RNC in fund-raising—the only national Democratic Party apparatus not outpacing its GOP counterpart. A DNC official says the presidential contenders are vacuuming up the money that would otherwise go to the party. But Dean's personality also comes into play. He's not a glad-hander or a natural salesman, like McAuliffe, who's now Hillary's campaign chairman. "He doesn't have good rapport with funders," says a Democratic operative. "He can't connect with these people. He's seen as a left-wing kook. Dennis Kucinich is competing for the same money as Dean."

Two members of the Florida congressional delegation, Sen. Bill Nelson and Rep. Alcee Hastings, held a press conference last week to announce they had filed a lawsuit charging the DNC (Dean is also named in the suit) with depriving Florida voters of due process, noting the state's history of voter suppression. One of the plaintiffs in the lawsuit is an African-American woman who lives in one of five counties in Florida under judicial watch because of past discrimination. A reporter asked if it was "embarrassing" to charge the national party with racial discrimination. "We're shedding light not to embarrass but to correct an inherent wrong," Hastings replied. The DNC has not formally commented other than to say through a spokesperson that the committee found it "disappointing" that this path was taken, especially after months of negotiation. A spokeswoman told NEWSWEEK that because Florida had not sought a waiver from the Justice Department to move the date, the suit could be derailed on a technicality.

Florida is still talking about the right to vote 42 years after the Voting Rights Act passed and seven years after the 2000 vote debacle, Hastings said. These facts seem to have eluded a certain medical doctor from Montpelier, Vt.