The political 'Texas two-step' isn't all bad

Anyone who experienced the kookiness of a Texas Democratic caucus last week may have at some point looked around at the crammed, confused crowd and wondered what the folks who thought up this gem of a Democratic process were thinking. Or smoking.

On some level, I was asking the same questions as I watched people yelling over each other and pledging their support for presidential candidates on random sheets of notebook paper. I can understand the caucus critics, such as state Rep. Sylvester Turner, D-Houston, who are itching to ditch parts of the system that seemed to fail those who left frustrated.

Texas Democratic Chairman Boyd Richie has said Democrats will hash out the issue and discuss several proposed changes to the 20-year-old delegate-selection system, nicknamed the " Texas two-step," at this year's state convention in June. As if, with Hillary Rodham Clinton and Barack Obama still duking it out, Democrats needed more reasons to feud.

Misunderstood
But before anybody condemns Texas ' hybrid primary-caucus process to the scrap pile of hare-brained ideas, it's important to grasp the intentions of the folks who designed it in the '80s.
The process isn't evil. It's just misunderstood.

Other states pick their Democratic presidential nominee in one of two ways: Let the party-faithful do it in a caucus or leave it up to "the people," the regular voters, in a one-person, one-vote primary election.

Texas Democrats — out of indecisiveness or an over-achieving spirit of compromise — tried to do both. Kind of an Iowafornia approach.

The system lets "the people" at the polls choose two-thirds of the pledged delegates who will pick a presidential candidate at the convention level. And it lets the folks who show up at election night caucuses, also known as precinct conventions, pick the remaining one-third.

The chance to pick pledged delegates at the caucuses was intended to encourage grass-roots party involvement and attendance at conventions, where other important issues, such as the party's stance on issues, are decided.

I'm not sure how well that incentive worked in the past since many precinct chairs tell me that, usually, they're lucky if they get five people to show up to caucus.

This concept is also what riles people like Turner, who doesn't like the party faithful having any more say in picking a presidential candidate than the mother of five who can't get off her night job to join the local caucus club.

"It is a process that is skewed more favorably toward some," says Turner. "As someone who recognizes a time when people had to jump through hurdles in order to vote, like poll tax and paying $1.50 and $1.75 to register, I'm just very sensitive to any other hurdles we put in people's way."

Turner says he never liked Texas ' bifurcated system, even before a strange turn of events shoved it into the spotlight this year. Others caution a knee-jerk reaction to dump a system that has run smoothly for the past two decades. "It works wonderfully, as long as it doesn't matter," says Gerry Birnberg, chair of the Harris County Democratic Party.

Since Texas usually plays no role in picking the Democratic presidential nominee, the caucusing amounted to nothing more than a few harmless "attaboys" for the party faithful, Birnberg said.
But this year, with the Super-duper Tuesday states tripping over themselves to get noticed in the presidential election, only to find they canceled each other out, usually irrelevant Texas Democrats found themselves the recipients of overflowing affection from both candidates.
Obama and Clinton were left with seemingly bottomless troves of cash with which to compel Texans not only to vote in what could have been a decisive race, but to partake in the grueling caucus process.

There's a strong possibility that the stars will never align quite like that again.

There's also the argument that, considering the unprecedented turnout of newcomers at last week's caucuses, something about the system had to have worked.

While about 3,000 Harris County voters showed up to caucus in 2004, Birnberg estimates at least 150,000 showed up last week.

"If we just had a primary, we'd have seen a lot of rallies and TV ads, but would we have seen this level of grass-roots organization?" says Ed Martin, Democratic strategist and former state party executive director.

He has a point. At the caucuses I attended, I saw people sign up to be delegates who, a few hours earlier, couldn't have told me what the word meant. Several voters, observing the disorganization, vowed to start volunteering with the party because, as one woman put it, "these people need help."

Martin and others urge patience, saying that lawsuits, sudden changes and intense bickering over party rules may scare off some of the first-time caucus-goers who were compelled to get involved.

Changes may be needed. But no need to be hasty. The Democrats have at least four more years to figure it out.

By LISA FALKENBERG Copyright 2008 Houston Chronicle, March 11, 2008, 6:29PM