Somewhere between party loyalty and political platforms is a way to vote your conscience

My mom was a lifelong Democrat. She never missed a ballot and worked at the polls every election into the early hours of the next day to count and verify votes cast.

When I was about 7, I asked my mom why she was a Democrat. She shared how her party cared about the everyday worker more than big business and how it defended equality for all. Mom was born in 1919 and had witnessed decades of financial hardship and the effects of war, so it certainly made sense. The Democratic Party supported what she believed was best for our country.

In 1909, a recent high school graduate, Dwight D. Eisenhower, gave a speech to a group of Dems — “The Student in Politics.” At that time, the Republican Party was splintering into conservative and liberal camps. Young Dwight had observed the anguish and arguments yet noted no one left the party. He explained:

“(I)n reality, a man’s party becomes a part of him, for as truly as he becomes a part of it, and he simply will not leave it. The average man ceases to reason fairly on the questions involved and always casts his vote as before. True, he continues to discuss the political questions of importance, but only in an obstinate and lopsided manner of reasoning, in which he simply refuses to see any wrong in his party.”

Go ahead, read it again, I know you want to. Spot on, right?

When you marry someone, you marry their family, too. And, that family comes with a lot of kit and kaboodle, like traditions, expectations, baggage, beliefs. That’s how young Dwight saw voting. A person’s first party line vote created a bond with more than a candidate — they married a whole political party and first-vote loyalty can last a long time.

We should warn the young people.

Is this a good time to tell you for my first three presidential elections I voted Republican? Straight line. Then, somewhere between “Read my lips” and “It’s the economy, stupid” I realized the tenets of the Democratic Party more closely matched what mattered most to me. It was scary to switch. I didn’t agree with all parts of the party platform, but my blue alliance has held to date.

Knowing and understanding your political family takes effort. Every four years, the GOP and Dems revise their platforms and write up a new version to be approved at their national convention. At least, that’s the tradition. The GOP skipped this in 2020.

I question how well we know our party’s current platform, beyond the slogans and sound bites in the news. How many main tenets of your chosen political party can you recite? I’m talking about written party policies, promises and plans. No peeking.

When I tried, I rattled off about six Dem platform points before floundering. Obviously, I’m neither a historian nor a political science professional. How many did you get?

Proven ill-informed, I went to democrats.org and learned how the Platform Committee had reached out to people across the country for input via an online portal, listening sessions and welcoming testimony at meetings. Then, I headed to politico.com to read the draft 2024 Democrat platform and found a full 80 pages of clearly stated, value-based goals, updates on progress and strategic next steps to move forward.

Each main point also included a compare-and-contrast paragraph(s) describing correlating GOP intentions and past actions of the party’s presidential candidate. I was very impressed. It was intelligent, thoughtful, easy to understand and positive, and unsurprisingly, I agreed with it.

Then I turned to the Republican 2024 Platform which was recently approved at the RNC. It was a short read. Just 16 pages. I think the Dems Table of Contents was longer. Or at least seemed so, because just the chapter titles and subtitles conveyed more information than the entire GOP document.

Two things really bothered me about the GOP platform. First, serious topics were made into lists consisting mostly of campaign slogans, conservative sound bites and chased with simple slams against President Joe Biden. There was almost no strategy, no measurable goals, just Republicanese and airy wishes. I wondered — are Republicans really happy with their party’s guiding document?

What bothered me even more was how the 2024 GOP platform was created behind closed doors by a small group of party people, with Trump’s review and approval. But there was no public input or insights. That’s just rude. Even some of the convention-going Republicans took issue with the elite process. A couple GOP subgroups were also upset by what they believe are diluted GOP ideals, saying the party is straying away from some of its core principles.

At least they knew past core conservative principles well enough to complain about the wishy washy 2024 version. And I believe them.

I’m thinking maybe the document was short to save on paper and time, because everyone knows, even if they deny it publicly, the Project 2025 plan has superseded the 2024 Republican Platform.

No political party is perfect. No candidate is perfect, no platform, either. As voters and citizens, we need to thoroughly understand both party platforms because one of them is what we’re marrying for the next four years, or maybe more.

I challenge you to read the two party platforms. Maybe ignore the proper names and try to sense which plan has the best energy and seems best to you, even if you don’t like all the topics and thoughts.

Then, vote according to your conscience, not your party affiliation. Be brave and keen. Because, there’s a new Captain America — a smart, accomplished, in-her-prime powerful woman, who we need to hoist up onto our shoulders and carry into the Oval Office with our votes in November.

 

Leslie Kouba is a columnist for cleveland.com.