Bikinis Upset GOP Love-In

By Ruth Conniff, CorpWatch. Posted August 1, 2000.

Philadelphia, August 1 -- Among the myriad corporate sponsors of the Republican Convention this year is Dale Carnegie and Associates, Inc., the self-described "global leader in business training." Along with a plastic cup from CNN, a mini First Aid kit from Blue Cross/Blue Shield and Kraft macaroni and cheese in the shape of elephants, every reporter who arrived to cover the convention received a little golden booklet with pearls of wisdom from Dale Carnegie, the granddaddy of American salesmanship. Tip number one from the late author of How to Win Friends and Influence People is "Don't criticize, condemn, or complain."

The Republicans seem to have taken that one to heart. So friendly are the Republicans this year that the delegates and lawyers I've talked to repeatedly marvel at how little work there is to do. Disagreements in the Rules and Platform committees were quickly squelched. All controversy, debate, and ideology have been squeezed out of the proceedings. However, anti-abortion language remains unchanged from the 1996 platform and efforts to remove anti-gay rights planks failed. Still, there is no floor debate, no political jockeying, no issues to be resolved. Nothing remains but a giant corporate schmoozefest.

As far as most attendees are concerned, that's a good thing. "We got rid of the rough edges," says former Congressman Bob Livingston, who helped Wisconsin Governor Tommy Thompson craft the feel-good Republican platform. In a draft of the platform based on the tenets that passed in 1996, Livingston says, "they wanted to get rid of the Department of Education, and cut off funding for the space program -- we got rid of all that," he adds proudly. Never mind that Livingston himself, as a Newt Gingrich loyalist, once campaigned on a proposal to axe the Department of Ed. Tip number six in Dale Carnegie's little golden book is: "Don't worry about the past."

A few protesters have arrived on the scene to break up the don't-worry-be-happy mood. On Tuesday morning, at a $1,000-a-plate breakfast for Senate Majority Leader Trent Lott (R-Miss) at the Four Seasons hotel, a cluster of Republicans and corporate lobbyists were suddenly confronted by a bikini-clad hooker with a Miss Liberty hat and a pair of thigh-high fishnet stockings stuffed with dollar bills. "Trent Lott's a corporate whore, we won't take no more!" the "prostitute" and two other women chanted.

Hotel staff rushed to push the three protesters out of the room and close the glass doors. Miss Liberty, a.k.a. Jessica Parsley of the Rainforest Action Network, blew kisses and waved through the glass at the gawking breakfast-goers. (Look for Miss Liberty doing her part to "make the issue of money in politics sexy" on a cross-country road show en route to the Democratic Convention in Los Angeles. Washington Action, a coalition of environmental, human rights, and campaign finance reform advocates will be driving a forty-foot bus donated by Ben and Jerry's papered with cash).

After being hustled outside the Four Seasons, the protesters posed in front of the giant elephant erected at the hotel entrance, waving and chanting "Lott, Lott, he's been bought, family values he ain't got." Half a dozen print journalists and seven photographers, all desperately seeking news, descended on the group.

Protest organizers, Randall Hayes, President of the Rainforest Action Network, and Medea Benjamin, co-director of Global Exchange, said they planned the event on Monday night at a cocktail party where people were passing plastic cups and tote bags promoting a fundraiser for Trent Lott. The souvenirs sported the names of the event's corporate sponsors, Lockheed Martin, Freddie Mac, AT&T, Union Pacific, American Bond Market Association, and other companies. "It's amazing how brazen these politicians have become that they even give out bags and cups with their corporate sponsors on them," says Benjamin. "There is no separation between corporations and politicians any more. They're proud to be seen together."

As attendees emerged from the coffee, Benjamin waved a fistful of fake $100 bills and called : "Yoohoo! Did you buy a Republican today? What did you get for $1,000?"

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