THERE HAS been a catastrophic terrorist attack, a couple of wars in the Middle East, and an epic natural disaster at home — but in the rarefied world of American presidential politics, it seems as though nothing much has changed. As Washington insiders begin to focus on life after George W. Bush and the 2008 presidential elections, there is an eerily familiar feel to the nascent contest. Some might call it over-familiar, even depressing.

Hillary Clinton is a big part of the reason for this developing sense of deja vu. As wife of President Bill Clinton and a former First Lady, Ms. Clinton is no stranger to the American public — and name recognition among an electorate that remains stubbornly disinterested in politics is half the battle. By being elected as a Democratic Senator for New York State in 2000, three months before her husband left the White House, she has ensured that nobody has been able to forget her.

Ms. Clinton has not formally declared her candidacy for the Democratic nomination in 2008. But everybody expects her to run, assuming her Senate re-election bid is successfully completed this November. She has accumulated an enormous campaign war chest since 2001, valued at more than $40 million and far more than she needs for the Senate contest.

She has also moved significantly to the centre-right since her First Lady days, supporting the Iraq war and taking pro-Israel positions.

Ms. Clinton leads in hypothetical polls over other possible Democratic nominees. She is rarely out of the news. All this has raised the prospect of another "Clinton era," with Mr. Clinton switching from saxophone to second fiddle.

Yet some influential Democrats regard Ms. Clinton as a divisive figure who would perpetuate the sharp social divisions evident during the Bush presidency. They fear she might win the party's nomination but lose the presidential election.

As a result, they are busily looking around for a credible alternative. Demonstrating once again how ambition can outstrip imagination, the best they have come up with so far is another golden oldie — Al Gore, Mr. Clinton's former Vice-President and official loser of the 2000 poll decided by the Supreme Court.

Mr. Gore is riding high at present. His film about global warming, An Inconvenient Truth, was given a big hand at the Cannes film festival this year. He has appeared relaxed and articulate during television appearances, in contrast to his former image as a wooden Internet-loving nerd.

And nobody is mocking him any more, now that his predictions about climate change, his opposition to the Iraq war, and his low opinion of Mr. Bush's leadership abilities have all been amply vindicated.

The trouble is that so far at least, Mr. Gore is adamant that he no longer covets the top job. "I wanted it and it was not to be," he told The New York Times at the weekend. "I have been there and I have done that... I have found other ways to serve my country."

Two obvious points arise. One is that this may not be his last word on the subject. It is far too early for a senior figure such as Mr. Gore to declare formal intent.

If he does step back into the ring, it will most likely because he is drafted by an eager party. Like Cincinnatus, Mr. Gore will expect to be induced to leave his plough by an undeniable call to national duty.

Not a natural

The second point is that his bashfulness may be soundly based in political reality. As anybody who watched him close up during the so-called Clinton-Gore "excellent adventure" of 1992 can testify, he is not a natural politician. He lacked the excitement and flair and charm that Mr. Clinton exuded. As one old political hand said, it was uncertain who won the 2000 contest with Mr. Bush — but it was absolutely certain who lost it. Mr. Gore had all the advantages of incumbency — and he blew it, even failing to carry his home State of Tennessee.

On the Republican side, likely contestants also have a slightly shop-worn air. John McCain, the Vietnam war veteran and long-serving Senator for Arizona, has been round the circuit before — but undeterred, looks keen on giving it another whirl. He fought Mr. Bush for the Republican nomination from the centre in 2000 and lost. Now, like Ms. Clinton, he has been trimming to the right, courting the evangelical vote, talking tough on Iran and Russia, and moving closer to his nemesis' conservative domestic policy positions.

But were he to win, Mr. McCain would be aged 72 on taking office in January 2009, older than Ronald Reagan when he was first elected. Some Republican strategists think that is just too old. But the man they are increasingly talking about, while younger, may also be just too familiar. Jeb Bush, two-term Governor of Florida, is in Al Gore mode at present, denying any intention to run. That has not stopped Mr. George W. Bush twice using his White House bully pulpit to suggest what an "excellent" President his younger brother would make one day. Yet Mr. Jeb Bush's reluctance apart, the problem is inescapable. Given the President's record low approval ratings, any candidate named Bush could be on a hiding to nothing in 2008.

It is a bit early to start making predictions. But it seems a reasonable bet that the eventual victor in 2008 will be none of the above. Unusually, the contest is wide open on both sides. And like 1992, America may be waiting for a fresh face, coming from nowhere, to pick up the pieces and restore the country's faith in itself. —

© Guardian Newspapers Limited 2006

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