Politics has always incited passion. It was apparent in the back-and forth publications of the Federalist and Anti-Federalist papers that led to a consensus for our Constitution. It caused women to band together at the Seneca Convention, it caused T.R. to undertake “muckraking,” and it caused the anti-war protests at Kent State. Passion in politics is a driving force that influences the changes in our nation. But if politics is about passion, then why can’t politicians be passionate?

Rewind to the 2004 election democratic primaries, when Howard Dean, suffering loss at the Iowa caucuses, shocked the nation by shaking his fist in the air and screaming the names of the states he wanted to win back, crying “We will not quit now or ever! We’ll earn our country back for ordinary Americans!” But his climatic “Yeeaaarghh!”, though set to “Welcome to the Jungle” at one point during the internet hysteria, did nothing for him in the way of votes. The American audience cringed from what came to be known as the “I Have a Scream” speech by this crazed “hockey dad” politician, as Letterman put it.

In the aftermath of Dean’s downfall, many say that he can never make a comeback. Is this really fair? Should his whole political career and image be determined by that one instant? It seems to me that if we only judged all politicians by one instant, we would have missed out on many of the great minds of the 20th century. We chose not to notice the blunders made by FDR or JFK, the ones that were politically unwise, shady, or just plain wrong, because we saw the passion they had overall. And Howard Dean’s blunder wasn’t an immoral or shady one—it was simply a mistake of rhetoric and an unwise spur-of-the-moment blunder that we could easily choose to ignore. But our culture now is such that we take what should be passed over and blow it out of proportion— we hope it can catch fire in a new genre of popular entertainment where politics is seen not as inspiration for change but as inspiration for comedy.

Why does society make it so that a display of such passion is unwise? In politics, it seems, actually basing decisions and actions on how much you care is a bad thing. It is unfair to politicians who truly want to further their party platforms and convictions that they must now cater to an unrelenting media and voter population that wants puppet, not inspirational, politicians. They want politicians that reiterate their viewpoints, not change or challenge them. They want leaders who are stable in unstable times. And, to an extent, this is reasonable. No one wants a president who is going to go insane at a time when calm reason is needed the most. There were investigations and claims made that Dean, in fact, did suffer anxiety attacks and unwarranted emotional anger on the campaign trail and in past elections. But there is a clear difference between insanity and passion, and it seems that our political process blurs that line. We need a stable leader, yes, but we also need a leader that has a vision he or she is so passionate about that no obstacle or constraints by society will prevent it.

In a recent interview with Fox News correspondent Chris Wallace, former president Bill Clinton was supposed to answer questions and discuss his Global Initiative program. But what stood out about Clinton the most and what was broadcast on YouTube the most was not Clinton’s initiative. No, it was the “outburst” in which he “attacked” Chris Wallace for asking pointed questions and for coming to the interview with the approach of a “conservative hit-job.” He expressed his opinion powerfully and passionately, with a real fire blazing in his eyes and shaking his finger at Wallace. He was probably acting subconsciously, so taken up by his passions that he forgot to realize that society demands docile leaders who respond to hits in the manner they are given; subtle or cunningly pointed, but never truly passionate. Or perhaps he was conscious that his passion was going to be seen as an out-of-control outburst—perhaps he realized this and just didn’t care, because he had decided that all that mattered was how he used his freedom to express his opinion. Maybe he was sick of the cat-and-mouse game politicians are expected to play. Many Clinton supporters actually applauded him for this show of passion, perhaps a sign that more politicians should let the other side have it—not through mud-slinging or corruption but just through pure debate. But others have tried to blow it out of proportion, with Wallace claiming, “He just seemed set off….take the look in his eye.” It has been inflated in the news, captured by YouTube, and passed around as a news sensation. After all, it’s not every day that a politician stands up and argues for what he believes in.

Even in the recent senate race advertisement featuring Michael J. Fox, the passion of someone inflicted with a disease that could be cured by research was criticized by conservative radio host Rush Limbaugh, who claimed Fox was exaggerating his movements. And Fox, suffering from Parkinson’s Disease, had to shake uncontrollably through many TV interviews to prove his passion.

Both sides—Democrats and Republicans—seem to run their campaigns more on criticizing the other side rather than lauding their own passion and own efforts. The Republicans call the Democrats soft on terrorism and disorganized; the Democrats call the Republicans corrupt and play to the growing anti-Bush sentiment. But out of all of this, no leader or party dares to emerge with a passion—no leader dares to take that extra step to inspire a crowd or raise the hopes of Americans with more than just a feeble campaign line and unabashed mud-slinging.

Passion is necessary in government —because whether it leads to friendly banter or deadly arguments, it is instrumental in creating changes. Politics has often been associated with trickery, corruption, and scandal. We have never regained the passion of the 1960’s, a time when people like JFK, RFK, and MLK Jr. projected their visions and led masses of people. What has happened to the idealistic politician or leader? Has he or she vanished behind decades of government disillusionment, decreasing expectations, and increasing apathy? No one expects the President to really inspire us that much anymore. If the President doesn’t seem to care about the genocide in Sudan, why should we? If I can make more money in a hour on Wall Street than in lobbying for legislation to be passed, which is more important? If, as an activist, I am seen not as an upholder of passion but as a nuisance, why bother?

So where are those politicians of yesteryear? Where is the Lincoln of Gettysburg or the FDR of the fireside chats? Where are the ones, like RFK, “who saw wrong and tried to right it, saw suffering and tried to heal it, saw war and tried to stop it?” We need to redefine politics as passion, not manipulation. We need to make sure the leaders of our lifetime are remembered for the speeches made or the moral struggles overcome, not the wars perpetuated and the scandals suffered. It was once said that “without passion, man is a mere latent force and possibility, like the flint which awaits the shock of the iron before it can give forth its spark.”

Will our generation live to see that spark?