Country Before Party
On the evening of Wednesday, December 13, 2000, the Vice President of the United States addressed the nation from his ceremonial office near the White House. “Just moments ago,” Al Gore began, “I spoke with George W. Bush and congratulated him.”
Earlier in the day, the Supreme Court ended five weeks of fiercely contested struggle for the presidency when it ordered, in a narrow 5–4 decision, the end of the Florida recount, effectively declaring that a candidate, for the first time since Reconstruction, had won the presidency by just one more electoral vote than is required. “The verdict,” The New York Times wrote, “capped a furious legal and political battle that tested a divided and often exasperated nation.”
For the first time since Benjamin Harrison defeated Grover Cleveland in 1888, the winner of the 2000 presidential election — a contest seemingly without end — had at last secured the White House despite having lost the popular vote by more than half a million votes.
Gore loyalists, incensed that a man who won the popular vote could not gain the presidency, were still convinced that a full recount would secure their candidate the electoral college. Pressure mounted, and some supporters urged the vice president to resist the high court’s ruling.
Gore believed that the Supreme Court was wrong. But instead of being recalcitrant, he adopted the reasoning of fellow Democrats like New Jersey Senator Robert G. Torricelli. “It was both a controversial and close judgment,” Torricelli said of the court’s ruling, “but it was also a final decision, and I hope the people will accept the finality of the judgment.”
Speaking to the nation, Gore made his final remarks as a presidential candidate. “Almost a century ago, Senator Stephen Douglas told Abraham Lincoln, ‘Partisan feeling must yield to patriotism. I’m with you, Mr. President, and God bless you,’” Gore said. “Well, in that same spirit, I say to President-elect Bush that what remains of partisan rancor must now be put aside, and may God bless his stewardship of this country.”
Gore’s speech was the finale of a piece whose chords, measures, and lyrics seemed only to prolong a mood of uncertainty and confusion. Not since Reconstruction had the nation felt, or been, so divided on the results of an election. Yet, unlike during Reconstruction, there was no talk of violence or a power grab; the people, no matter their leaning, trusted that the system, durable and tested, would correct the situation and proclaim the voice of the people.
It was fitting that the Supreme Court’s decision was so narrow. In one sense, it reflected American democracy at work, framed in all its hair-splittingly narrow consensus. And it was even more fitting that the man who secured the most votes by the people themselves should submit to the judgment of the nation’s highest court—all without a punch, bullet, or riot.
“Now the Supreme Court has spoken,” Gore said. “Let there be no doubt… I accept it. I accept the finality of this outcome,” adding, “And tonight, for the sake of our unity as a people and the strength of our democracy, I offer my concession.”
The unprecedented, “extraordinary” nature of the election was not lost on the Democratic nominee. “But in one of God’s unforeseen paths,” Gore said, “this belatedly broken impasse can point us all to a new common ground, for its very closeness can serve to remind us that we are one people with a shared history and a shared destiny.”
America had been divided before, especially during elections. Each time, however, “both the victor and the vanquished have accepted the result peacefully and in a spirit of reconciliation.” Such is the American way. And to those in the global community, especially the nation’s enemies, Gore made clear that the “strength of American democracy is shown most clearly through the difficulties it can overcome.”
Gore advised a Lincolnian spirit to those who still felt the pull of partisanship. “This is America,” he said. “Just as we fight hard when the stakes are high, we close ranks and come together when the contest is done.” The task of an American was clear: “We put country before party; we will stand together behind our new president.”
The contest was over. The battle was fought. A president was chosen. “We turn again,” Gore concluded, “to the unending struggle for the common good of all Americans and to the multitudes around the world who look to us for leadership in the cause of freedom.”
Gore’s final words, routine but powerful, ended America’s closest-ever election: “God bless America.”
On Saturday, January 20, 2001, Al Gore stood next to the outgoing president at the West Front of the Capitol Building. As did every American, Gore placed his hand over his heart and recited the Pledge of Allegiance. At noon, Chief Justice William Rehnquist administered the Oath of Office, after which the forty-third president reached out and shook Gore’s hand.
“The peaceful transfer of authority is rare in history, yet common in our country,” President George W. Bush said. “With a simple oath, we affirm old traditions and make new beginnings.”
America is a story, Bush said, and “we are not this story’s author.” Yet, God’s “purpose is achieved in our duty”—a duty “never tiring, never yielding, never finishing.” In words that brought about an end and a beginning, Bush concluded, “This work continues, the story goes on, and an angel still rides in the whirlwind and directs this storm.”
Gore stood and clapped—a defeated candidate, a former vice president, but above all an American citizen.