EST PALM BEACH, Fla. - What we need in America in these uncertain days of democracy is a statesman. What we're getting is a bunch of overprivileged politicians, many of whom were born into power, flinging names and statistics at each other in a mockery of what our time-tested system has always been.
Two men who failed to inspire a country, Al Gore and George W. Bush, are now showing they are incapable of handling any sort of crisis, even one that can be benevolently viewed as a simple vote recount.
Here at the epicenter of that recount, in the one county that threatens to tip this election on its head, it was a day when the bizarre descended toward the incomprehensible. Two days after a presidential election in which no one has yet been elected, the possibility grew toward reality that it may be weeks before a winner is determined - and perhaps then by courts, rather than voters.
Puffy clouds hovered in the pale blue sky, and gentle breezes rustled the tops of the palm trees, as throngs of Democrats marched in front of the Palm Beach County Government Center, chanting, ''Gore got more,'' and ''Revote,'' while stabbing the air with signs that read, ''We don't need another sonova Bush.'' They cheered wildly as Jesse Jackson led a call for justice.
Their complaint: The unorthodox county ballot, designed by a Democrat, was so confusing that many voters punched a hole for Pat Buchanan when they meant to vote for Gore. Indeed, Buchanan's tally in this county was more than three times that in any other Florida county. The Democratic marchers traded furious jeers with Republicans, some of whom carried signs of their own, stating, ''The ballot does not lie. People do,'' and ''Hole 4 or 5. How stupid can you be?''
Inside, county workers watched the results of the recount unfolding across their television screens, with Bush's margin slipping from 1,784 votes to 225 by the middle of evening.
But on a day in which someone, anyone, needed to rise to the occasion and assure the nation that democracy and justice should and would prevail, no one even bothered to try, not Bush, not Gore, not their respective campaign chairmen, Don Evans and Bill Daley. Rather, the two organizations continued tossing stones between Austin and Nashville, leaving a vacuum of leadership that Bill Clinton, the lame duck president, and Jeb Bush, the Florida governor and candidate's brother, were impotent to fill.
At no time in this two-day drama has it become any more obvious why Bush and Gore have caused such national angst than in their second telephone call Wednesday morning. It should have been a high-minded exchange that included pleasantries on the closeness of their race, wishes of good luck, and selfless hopes for the republic in the coming days.
Instead, they were like two grade-schoolers fighting over a batch of Pokemon cards. Bush reflexively referred to the family connections that make so many people so suspicious, saying that his brother had assured him that his lead would withstand time.
''You don't have to be snippy about it,'' Gore said, in a quote for the ages. Then, in that superior tone of his, he added, ''Let me explain something. Your younger brother is not the ultimate authority on this.''
Where this all leads, absolutely no one can predict. No political reporter in this country has ever seen a situation like it. No politician has ever been in a similar plight.
Which leads to poor Dale McGinnis, 30, who yesterday sat forlornly in the retail store he manages a few blocks from the madding crowd. Why? Because he didn't vote for the first time in his adult life, a vote he would have cast for Gore.
''I feel horrible,'' he said, so embarrassed that he led me away from any staff who might overhear. ''I feel awful. I can't wait for resolution just to be over it. But it might stick with me for four years.''
Brian McGrory's e-mail address is mcgrory@globe.com.
