The discussion about General Wesley Clark jumping into the race now focuses mostly on things like money—is there enough still out there to fund a competitive campaign? Clark doesn't seem worried about it, and his supporters tend to speak of him as the political Field of Dreams candidate: Once he's in, the Benjamins will come. A lot of Democratic fundraisers and officeholders say that's deeply naive. "It's too late," says one Democratic Congressman supporting Kerry. "This is not like Hillary jumping into the race, causing people to jump ship. Most of the money out there is committed." Without a lot of money, Clark could struggle to make a dent in the Iowa caucuses and the New Hampshire primary, where the critical political ground troops—the doorbell ringers and envelope stuffers—are spoken for. And if he doesn't make a dent early, he may not make one at all. Nor, to some party pros, is all the talk about Clark as VP necessarily persuasive. Hard electoral calculus makes Senator Bob Graham of Florida, another presidential candidate, pretty attractive. Democrats could run Bozo the Clown and win New York and California. Throw in Florida, and, as Al Gore might tell you, they're in business.

The more important question may be whether Clark is actually ready for prime time. By this time professional politicians running seriously for the presidency have honed their messages. They know what to say and, just as important, what not to say. Further, they do all the other things that pols are good at: They schmooze, they are especially nice to rich people with money to give, they pretend to be endlessly fascinated by what ordinary voters say, even if they've heard it 1,000 times that day.

Can Wes Clark do this stuff? He's always crisp and always gracious. He no doubt has stamina to burn. He certainly has things he wants to say. If he can figure out the bit about what not to say, he may be more formidable than the other campaigns now think. Indeed, he could be quite formidable. And if he can't, it won't be too late for the general to get in the race, but too early—about four years too early.

Clearly, Clark's entry has made a definite impression as shown by the national polls, but the money question is still not resolved.

[Thanks to Shirley]


Update: Another unresolved question concerns Clark's campaign apparatus. His campaign manager quit today, and on TAPPED, Garance Franke-Ruta comments:

I've been hearing for days that the nascent Clark campaign is divided into three factions: campaign professionals, former Draft Clark people and friends of Clark from Arkansas. With Fowler gone, watch for some of the Draft people to clash with the Washington types even more. One of the smarter political observers I know in DC was telling me last night that he's giving the campaign about two more weeks to get it's act together. If it can't do that, then it really may be too late for Clark.