And the whinger is.......

There was sense of déjà vu for me when considering the Gore versus Bush battle for the US presidency.
I well remember the very close 1960 United States presidential election. The then Australian Prime Minister, Robert (later Sir Robert) Menzies, sent me to the US as an official observer of the presidential election.
Menzies was worried about the outcome, and especially worried about Kennedy.
I knew this because on the night before I left, he had said: “Rufus, I’m worried about the possible outcome and especially about Kennedy.”
He didn’t elaborate, but I suspect he held reservations about JFK’s resolve to fight the then Cold War as fiercely as President Eisenhower – fears that ultimately proved groundless.
In that year, Democratic Party Senator John F Kennedy won the presidency by barely defeating then Republican Vice-President Richard Nixon.
The count went on till well into the day after polling day.
Without sounding immodest, my reputation as an impartial public servant gained me entrée to Nixon’s suite in the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles where together we watched returns come in during the long evening and morning.
JFK secured 34,227,000 votes to Nixon’s 34,109,000 – a margin of 0.1% across the nation.
Yet Kennedy gained 303 votes (62%) in the Electoral College to Nixon’s 219 (36%).
What many Australians fail to grasp is the role the Electoral College plays in the final outcome. Americans do not vote directly for a president. They vote for members of an Electoral College who, in turn, cast their votes for the candidate to which they are pledged.
This system – an invention of the United States’ founding fathers – means a candidate who wins a majority (however thin) in a state may secure all of its Electoral College votes.
Each state’s Electoral College strength is based on its population and overall there are now 538 delegates.
This two-tiered system inevitably distorts the final outcome.
But, I digress.
By the following morning Nixon and I watched as the TV networks had declared Kennedy the winner.
Unlike both Gore and Bush, Richard Nixon resisted urgings for him to mount a legal challenge - even though wafer-thin wins for JFK in Texas and Illinois would have changed the overall result if overturned.
I well remember Nixon pondering his decision and wondering out loud about the allegations of election fraud that had begun circulating almost as soon as the polls closed.
He spoke about the Texas country where just under 5,000 voters were registered, but almost 6,200 votes had been cast; about the Chicago voting machine that had recorded 121 votes after only 40-odd people had voted; and the general air of uncertainty that floated over the Democratic Party machine in Illinois.
Nixon sought my advice about whether to challenge the result. I told him he would live to fight another day.
He did indeed fight another days – eight years later.
In 1968 the then Prime Minister John Gorton sent me to the US because he was worried about the outcome, and especially worried about Nixon.
I knew this because on the night before I left, he had said: “Rufus, I’m worried about the possible outcome and especially about Nixon.”
He didn’t elaborate, but I suspect he held reservations about Nixon’s resolve to fight the Cold War and the Vietnam War as fiercely as President Johnson – fears that ultimately proved groundless.
Because of the friendship we had struck up on election night 1960, Nixon invited me to join him in his suite at the Waldorf Towers in New York.
That night we were also to be in for a long and nerve-wracking count.
It wasn’t until 8.30 am the following morning – when Nixon needed to secure just Illinois to win – that one of his aides burst through the door.
“ABC just declared you the winner!” he said, “They’ve projected Illinois. You’ve got it. You’ve won.”
We went into the sitting room to see for ourselves.
It was true, Nixon had won. The American ABC TV network had said so.
The final outcome in popular votes was Nixon 31,770,000 votes to Vice-President Hubert Humphrey’s 31,271,000 – a margin of just over 1%.
This translated to 301 Electoral College votes for Nixon and 191 for Humphrey.
A third major candidate – Alabama Governor George Wallace – syphoned off 13.5% of the popular vote – almost 10,000,000 votes and won five southern states and their 46 Electoral College votes.
I also went to the US to observe the 1976 elections because Prime Minister Malcolm Fraser was worried about the outcome, and especially worried about Carter.
I knew this because on the night before I left, he had said: “Rufus, I’m worried about the possible outcome and especially about Carter.”
He didn’t elaborate, but I suspect he held reservations about Carter’s resolve to keep his brother out of the media – fears that ultimately proved well grounded.
In that election, then Republican President Gerald Ford gained 39,100,000 votes across the nation to Democrat Jimmy Carter’s 40,800,000 – giving Carter a margin of around 2%.
But, Ford ended up with 241 Electoral College votes to Carter’s 297.
Ford had lost the state of Ohio – and its 26 Electoral College votes – by just 11,000, or 0.2% of the vote in that state.
If he had won Ohio and turned around one smaller state – even by a similar margin - he would have defeated Carter and not necessarily by winning the popular vote.
My personal experiences in these close presidential contests make me very wary of the “real” outcome in tight races.
Unfortunately, the Americans do not have the equivalent of our national Australian Electoral Commission. It is up to individual US states to run elections, even national ones such as that for president.
The closest they have to an AEC are the CNN, NBC, CBS and ABC TV networks.
From my observations, their word appears to be final.
But, recent experience suggest that in the past they may not always have been correct.

Rufus Badinage MBE, now retired, is one of Australia’s leading
experts on politics and public administration having worked as a
senior bureaucrat for various state and federal governments.