Last November, when George W. Bush became the first Republican gubernatorial candidate in Texas ever to win El Paso County, some local Democratic officials consoled themselves by wondering what might have been, had Texas politics not lost former San Antonio Mayor Henry G. Cisneros to personal scandal. During the 1980s, Cisneros not only embodied the hopes of Texas' ascendant Mexican population, but he was also a symbol of ethnic reconciliation in a state where the battle of the Alamo is still the dominant historical motif.

When Cisneros left elected office in 1989, Texas Democrats didn't have a replacement candidate who could appeal to Anglos and energize the party's Latino base. They still don't. When Bush garnered 40% of the Latino vote in 1998, he threatened Democratic survival in Texas. True, a strong economy, a weak challenger and his incumbent status all contributed to Bush's showing. Nonetheless, the Texas governor and GOP presidential front-runner showed the GOP how to win substantial numbers of Latino votes. In essence, Bush held out the promise of ethnic reconciliation to Latinos in the same way that Cisneros did to Anglos.

Not surprisingly, the Bush campaign did not base its appeal to Latinos on the governor's policy record. Nor could the campaign rely on the left-leaning Latino advocacy groups that Democratic campaigns tap to reach Latino voters. Instead, he made an unprecedented number of visits to heavily Democratic Latino cities on the border with Mexico and developed a powerful message of inclusion and Texas unity. His Latino-targeted television and radio ads, which ran in both English and Spanish, stressed commonality of values between Texas Anglos and Mexicans. While soft-selling the Bush "name brand," the spots all revisited the message that the hard work, pride and strong family values of Mexican Americans are quintessentially Texan.

Typically, when speaking to Latino audiences, Bush stresses Latinos' ability to overcome persistent obstacles. For example, last Thursday, as Vice President Al Gore was highlighting the crumbling infrastructure of San Antonio schools, the Texas governor was in Los Angeles declaring that "pigment and poverty need not determine academic performance." In his address on education reform to the Latin Business Assn., Bush lauded business leaders for creating "a Latino economic miracle," even as he insisted that America must close the academic-achievement gap between whites and minorities. Time and again, Bush deftly appeals to Latinos' pride in ethnicity while simultaneously declaring that they are integral--and capable--members of mainstream America. His is an optimistic message of inclusion.

Conventional wisdom says that Bush's big-tent appeal in Texas won't transfer to California, where former Gov. Pete Wilson has soiled the GOP name among Latino voters. Indeed, since Proposition 187, the anti-immigrant measure, passed in 1994, Latinos have voted more heavily Democratic than ever before. Yet, at the same time, the tawdry racial politics of the '90s may have whetted Latinos' appetite for moderate, conciliatory voices.

Capitalizing on the Latino backlash to Wilson's racialized politics, state Democrats have made disdain for Republicans the centerpiece of their Latino campaign strategy. But the politics of resentment do not create the same long-term party loyalty as do messages of hope and a coherent vision of the future. Furthermore, such a strategy does nothing to heal the deep social fissures that Wilson's divisive politics left behind.

Soon after passage of Proposition 187, sociologists Ruben G. Rumbaut and Alejandro Portes surveyed adolescent immigrants and children of immigrants in San Diego on issues of identity. They found that the anti-immigrant sentiment of that year had a profound effect on high school kids. Students of Mexican descent were significantly less likely to identify themselves as American than they had been three years earlier. Made to feel unwelcome by a nasty anti-immigrant political climate, the teenagers didn't see themselves as integral parts of California society at large. They took refuge in what the professors called a "reactive ethnic consciousness."

Since Proposition 187, state Democrats have sought to exploit a more general alienation among Latino voters. In the past two election cycles, for example, several Democratic campaigns sent out mailers to registered Latino voters with a perforated "voter identification card" enclosed. An indignant accompanying letter informed the potential voter that the card should be used in case anyone (read: Anglo Republican) should deny them their right to vote because of their ethnicity. Their tactical acumen notwithstanding, Democrats leveraged ethnic distrust for political gain.

Republican strategists hope such tactics will backfire if used on Bush. "For the first time this decade, the Republicans have a candidate who won't hand the Democrats the stick to beat us with," says GOP consultant Mike Madrid. He's betting that Bush's positive message of inclusion will neutralize the Democrats' politics of resentment.

Democrats are worried enough to rethink their Latino strategy. Currently, there is a debate within the national party over whether minority grievance politics should be replaced by a new "politics of aspiration." The Democratic Leadership Council, the centrist group that helped catapult Bill Clinton into the White House, seeks to "mainstream" the Latino agenda. It contends that Democratic candidates should emphasize nuts-and-bolts issues like jobs, schools and safety.

To be sure, Bush's message of inclusion wasn't enough to attract a Latino majority. Nor did the help of his Latino allies, who repeatedly told voters that it doesn't matter if Bush isn't a Democrat. Nor did it hurt his cause that the Texas Democratic Party is in shambles. Indeed, few, if any, political observers think that Bush's strong Latino support presages a Latino political mutiny.

With Democrats in ascendance in California, Bush faces a much more formidable challenge in converting Latinos. In his reelection campaign, he aimed for 40% of the Latino vote--and got it. In California, a Bush presidential campaign will likely target Latinos whom it considers natural constituents: middle-class homeowners, entrepreneurs and professionals. The GOP would consider it a great triumph if Bush receives 30% of California's Latino votes in a general election. By contrast, Republican presidential nominee Bob Dole attracted 18% of the Latino vote in 1996.

But no matter how Bush fares, he has already set a precedent in presidential campaigning by a Republican candidate. Just as Richard M. Nixon's "Southern strategy"--the use of racial wedge issues to drive traditional Democratic white voters to the GOP--exacerbated racial tensions when and wherever it was employed, Bush's "Tejano" strategy has the potential to create positive social change in a state still besieged by ethnic divisions. In Texas, even Bush's detractors credit the governor for putting Latinos more firmly on the political radar than they've ever been before. Certainly, no single figure of any ethnicity in California politics has so explicitly sought to send the message that Latinos are a welcome and integral part of the state's mainstream. At the very least, Bush's appeal to Latinos forces both political parties to ask whether the traditional strategy of exploiting ethnic tensions for political gain is worth the social costs. It is ironic, and more than a little hopeful, that a Southern conservative will come to California spreading a message of unity.