Unless you’ve been living on another planet, you know that the Democrats that matter—the presidential candidates, the Speaker of the House, and the Senate majority leader—are against Bush’s Iraq policy, against American unilateralism, against NSA surveillance programs, against the CIA rendition program, against the Guantanamo prison camp—the list goes on and on. More succinctly, if Bush is for it, the weightier Democrats are against it.

Fair enough. It’s to be expected—especially as an election year nears—that the out-of-power party will ever-more-vocally criticize the in-power party’s policies. But the public deserves and should demand more than condemnations. In particular, the weightier Democrats should tell us what they are for and why the policies they favor will be better for us. To do this, of course, they’ll have to let us know what they believe will happen if their policies are implemented. Simply saying that they will result in a better, safer world and restore respect for America won’t do. Those are conclusions, not arguments. How do these conclusions follow from setting a timetable for withdrawal from Iraq, placing greater faith in the wisdom of the UN Security Council, weakening the surveillance and rendition programs, and bulldozing Gitmo?

This the Democrats haven’t done—at least to my satisfaction.

This problem isn’t unique to the U.S. Here’s Nick Cohen on the situation in Britain:

However far it is from achieving power, a serious political ideology has to have a positive programme to live. For example, it is perfectly possible to imagine what a green government would do, while realising that the greens cannot conceivably win an election. By contrast, the Labour left talked at length about what it wouldn’t do – keep British troops in Iraq or Afghanistan – but had no coherent principles, no guiding programme.

[ . . . ] The same question haunts the Liberal Democrats, who benefited so greatly from the anti-war wave of 2003.

[ . . . ] If Liberals and leftists had stuck by what outsiders assumed were their core principles, they wouldn’t seem so vacuous now. They might have opposed Blair and Bush while allying with Iraqis who wanted something better after 35 years of murderous tyranny than being blown to pieces by al-Qaeda.

The short-term political gains of ignoring victims of Baathism and choosing isolationism were obvious: fury, much of it justified, could be concentrated on the organisers of a disastrous war. But opportunism has its price. All that remains is a selfish, consumerist leftist culture without commitment.

When I go to the homes of the richest people I know, I see the works of Michael Moore and Noam Chomsky and I think: ‘Well, of course you can read them because they’re no threat to you.’ They, along with millionaire comedians, stockbrokers and the aristocrats on the board of the ENO, strike leftish poses safe in the knowledge that the political left no longer threatens their interests or demands anything from them. All they have to be is against British and American policy, which Bush and Blair have given ample reasons for so doing.