Mary Dejevsky: Farewell to the nearly man of American politics

If only Al Gore had called it a day when the US Supreme Court lost him America's closest presidential election. His name would have been inscribed in the annals of honourable losers. His political epitaph would have been his gracious and eloquent address on television conceding defeat – perhaps the finest speech he made in his long and precocious political career.

Alas, it was Al Gore's fate always to be second-best. He was second-best to his venerable father, Senator Al Gore senior, the Tennessee Senator; second-best to that diabolical political genius, Bill Clinton; second-best as a campaigner even to his running mate, Joe Lieberman; and ultimately second-best – though this must have rankled the most – to George W Bush.

Americans, for all their single-minded pursuit of success, have a corresponding knack of scenting a loser, and they recognised one in Al Gore. Now, two years and two days after accepting that he would not become the 43rd President of the United States, Al Gore has accepted that he will never be President at all.

Gore's destiny was not to be hopeless, merely second-best – and the timing of his announcement was just that. Once he had decided, after losing the presidency, not to leave politics definitively, this was his next-best chance to change his mind. It was late enough to have satisfied himself that his prospect of victory was minimal – after the Republican victories in last month's congressional elections – and early enough to give would-be Democratic candidates and the party time to rally around someone else. Gore has thus given his party their best shot at the presidency in two years' time.

No one now need express anything other than generous appreciation of Al Gore. His shadow will not fall across the Democratic primaries, which will be genuinely open – as they were when Bill Clinton won the nomination in 1992. By stepping aside, Gore has done what he can to ensure that the campaign of 2004 will not be the grudge-match for 2000, but a whole new contest, on new themes. That is all to the good; but it also points up Al Gore's most glaring deficiencies.

It is hard not to see Gore's career to date as a catalogue of missed chances. He exhibits many qualities that American politics sorely needs. He prefers substance to presentation, and is not by nature showy. He is ploddingly thorough in his research and infuriatingly methodical in his actions. While nothing like as wealthy as many, he has not embroiled himself in any serious money-related scandal. And although he has a nasty side – he can be sharp and condescending with subordinates who disappoint – there is a solidity about his personal life that suggests he may be at heart a decent man.

Projecting these qualities in the instant, populist way demanded of US presidential candidates was where Gore most glaringly came adrift. His repeated changes of dress, style and speech during the 2000 campaign suggested the very opposite of solidity. He adjusted his policies to the conflicting demands of advisers who wanted him above all to win. Yet on the causes he made his own – the environment and child health – he found himself at odds with his fellow Americans. He lacked the facility of Clinton and to a lesser extent the younger Bush simultaneously to anticipate the mood of America and to appear his own man. Fatally, he never seemed convinced of his strength.

That Gore none the less came so close to winning that election – in fact, he won the popular vote; it was the electoral college system that defeated him – reflected the even left-right political division of the US and the poor quality of both main candidates. Gore was a strong candidate who fought a poor campaign against a poor candidate who fought ruthlessly, as though he meant it, to the last.

Two years ago, with the economy booming and American power at its zenith, the times were not such as to favour Gore when he moved to the left, as Bush forced him to do. Gore's single foray into high politics before last month's mid-term elections was equally doomed. He took to the hustings to warn of the risk of going to war on Iraq. But his was a lone voice crying in a wilderness of war frenzy, national paranoia and highly personal fear occasioned by the "Washington" sniper.

As the results showed, the anti-war message was not one that voters especially wanted to hear. And Gore's voice hardly had the clarion quality that made them sit up and listen. His latest book, a social history of the family in America, interleaved with sentimental examples from the life and times of the Family Gore, is meeting a similar fate.

The Democrats must now decide whether to campaign against Bush from the left – on the flagging economy, on the gathering crisis in welfare and poverty, on the bloated post-11 September defence budget – or try to emulate the success of Clinton and Bush by playing for the political centre. This calculation will help to determine which of the many would-be presidents who will now declare themselves advance through the primaries.

The one certainty is that the next Democratic nominee for President will be picked less for his politics or pedigree than for his chances of beating George Bush. As Al Gore has recognised just in time, a second-best candidate – however good – will not be acceptable this time round.

m.dejevsky@independent.co.uk