UPON DUTIFULLY returning to the Senate and the party he spent most of the last year lambasting, John McCain issued a pair of mutually exclusive statements: "I have no thought of leaving the Republican Party, which is my home"; and "I've also reiterated my unconditional commitment to those who voted for me in the name of reform." So much for the Straight Talk Express. Apparently, he intends to reconcile those two sentiments by rebaptizing every item on the GOP agenda as "reform."

And as if to prove that he is no longer an obsessive, single-minded reformer intent on breaking "the iron triangle of lobbyists, big money and legislation," McCain took to the well of an all-but-empty Senate to urge his colleagues to eliminate the Social Security Earnings Test and to oppose the lifting of sanctions against Serbia -- issues henceforth to be known as Social Security reform and Serbian sanctions reform.

He clinched the homecoming by announcing his decision to back George W. with no strings attached and to campaign for Republican congressional candidates. Supporting a ban on soft money would not be a prerequisite for his help, he said. What would be? A promise to "feel real bad" about cashing the check?

He then tucked his tail between his legs and joined his GOP Senate colleagues at their weekly luncheon (The Straight Talk Buffet), where he was the object of much praise by the same people who only weeks ago were jabbing poisoned pins into John McCain dolls.

This chummy display of hatchet-burying makes depressingly clear how hard it is to be a reformer within an establishment party, and how seductive it is to return to the warm embrace of the pack. McCain's insurgent run was a do-or-die proposition for Washington-based reform. If a war hero -- who came across like John Wayne even when he sounded like Ralph Nader -- couldn't pull it off, who can? McCain's defeat confirms what history has already taught us: Reform won't come from within the two-party system. It will, once again, take a movement of outraged and committed citizens demanding reform from the bottom up.

That was certainly the case during the civil rights struggle. It took a movement -- a diverse coalition determined to challenge an unjust status quo -- to force action in Washington. For a brief, exhilarating moment, it looked as if McCain might become one of that exceedingly rare breed, a movement politician. But now that he has reboarded the plush Doubletalk Express, and there's no new savior as far as the eye can see, it's down to the painstaking grass-roots work of movement building.

The good news is that there's a lot already going on. When 90-year-old Doris Haddock, a.k.a. Granny D, culminated her cross-country walk for campaign reform in Washington earlier this month, the Alliance for Democracy staged a rally at the Capitol -- which the alliance calls "the scene of the crime." The next "citizens' revolt" will be April 21, and the demand will be for "the one reform that makes other reforms possible: full public financing of elections."

Meanwhile, AIDS activists at Al Gore's rallies are protesting the administration's siding with drug-industry efforts to keep low-cost versions of lifesaving drugs from millions of infected poor people in Africa. Just this week, members of ACT UP/New York entered the office of Pfizer CEO William Steere Jr. to demand that the company stop charging Africans up to $20 for the anti-fungal drug Diflucan, when it can be produced for only 60 cents. The political establishment -- a major recipient of Pfizer campaign cash -- remains silent, but outrage is building.

As for the folks who brought us the Battle in Seattle, they have not gone away, they're just organizing their next move. "This time," says Mike Dolan, one of the driving forces behind Seattle, "the battleground is the House of Representatives." In mid-April, when the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank hold meetings in Washington, Dolan is planning a day of "citizen lobbying." This summer, it's on to Los Angeles and Philadelphia for rallies and forums on issues that you can be sure will not be addressed inside the convention halls.

At the moment, this is still an inchoate movement, lacking the single, focused goal of the civil rights struggle. But its overriding theme of economic justice echoes the Poor People's campaign, the national mass movement Martin Luther King was planning before his assassination.

A broad-based citizens' revolt such as King envisioned is clearly a lot messier than one leader charging to the rescue. And a much harder story to fit on the evening news than the horse race from New Hampshire to Super Tuesday. But the McCain phenomenon made it impossible to continue pretending that the public is content with things as they are. And the McCain retreat makes it impossible to continue pretending that it will take anything less than a movement to bring about reform

Huffington is a syndicated political commentator. Her e-mail address is arianna@ariannaonline.com.

Copyright 2000 Contra Costa Times

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