Time - Man of the Year/Time_Man_of_the_Year_Compact_Publishing_3YX-Disc-1_Compact_Publishing_1993.iso/moy/072792/0727990.000

Text File | 1993-04-08 | 5KB | 102 lines

                                                                                THE WEEK, Page 16

NATION

And Then There Were Two


With Perot folding, Clinton and Bush gird for a head-to-head
fight


    Even if machine politics is mostly a relic of the past, the
Democratic National Convention last week managed to resemble
something well oiled and humming. When the delegates arrived in
New York City, the primaries had already made Bill Clinton the
party's nominee and Clinton had already made Al Gore his running
mate. Jubilant at the thought that this, at last, might be a
winning team, the Democrats in Madison Square Garden cheered
like paid extras.

    Most of them, that is. Jesse Jackson, who had to be
wrestled into line at the 1988 convention, where he controlled
30% of the delegates, came to this one with just his
(considerable) powers of speech -- which he couldn't exercise
until he reluctantly agreed to endorse the Clinton ticket. Mario
Cuomo, who for months had sniped at Clinton from the sidelines,
preached some old-time Democratic religion while blessing a
ticket with postliberal views on welfare (too generous) and
government spending (ditto). Even Jerry Brown couldn't throw a
wrench into the works, though he and his cantankerous supporters
tried. When he finally spoke on Wednesday night, his sulfurous
podium performance included no endorsement of his party's
ticket. Maybe it was resentful party regulars who arranged to
have Brown leave the stage to the music of a Sousa march known
to most people as the theme from Monty Python's Flying Circus.

    It was supposed to be Clinton's week, and in most respects
it was -- but for the stunner that would reduce his acceptance
speech to a secondary headline in Friday's papers. Ross Perot's
sudden withdrawal from the race he had never officially entered
left many supporters across the country feeling betrayed. Their
grand, impractical crusade seemed to fall victim to the most
grimy practical considerations: Perot's inability to rev up his
stalled candidacy. Hamilton Jordan and Ed Rollins, his
odd-couple team of political handlers, were frustrated by the
candidate's unwillingness to be handled. First Jordan was said
to be heading for the door, but at midweek it was Rollins who
actually left, thwarted by Perot's rejection of a pricey ad
campaign. Then, suddenly, Perot himself was gone, stepping
aside, he said, because he had concluded that he could not win
in November. Or was he gone? In TV appearances Friday, he talked
about helping to form an ill-defined third force to endorse
congressional candidates.

    That still left an army of volunteers in political limbo,
while both parties scrambled to make them feel welcome. Would
his supporters turn out to be "basically conservative," as
George Bush was quick to characterize them? Or were they issuing
a "call to change," as Clinton rushed to claim? Early polls
showed more of Perot's supporters opting for Clinton, but many
were still too deep in shock to reconsider their options. Some
were insisting that they would still cast a protest vote for
Perot, whose name will remain on the ballot in half the states
or more. In time, many of them will begin warily examining the
candidates of the two shopworn parties they abandoned just a few
months ago.

    Perot did seem to send his followers a signal about what
direction they might take. He spoke about having been impressed
in recent weeks by a "revitalized" Democratic Party. And that
was even before Clinton's acceptance speech, which adroitly
pitched the Democratic tent in the middle-class backyard. The
President appears to have noticed too; he spent the week fishing
-- but at the Wyoming ranch of Secretary of State James Baker,
the Bush campaign chairman in 1988 who may sign on for a repeat
engagement.

    As usually happens after a prime-time political lovefest,
the challengers bounced out of the convention way above the
incumbents: a TIME/CNN poll conducted on the day Perot quit the
race had Clinton-Gore topping Bush-Quayle by 20%. That lead was
3 points larger than the one that Michael Dukakis enjoyed in the
immediate afterglow of the 1988 convention. But Dukakis kept his
campaign in low gear, and the Bush team wiped out his lead with
negative campaigning. This time the Democrats are taking no
chances. The day after the convention, Clinton and Gore set out
on a six-day bus tour from New York to St. Louis. In this
year's volatile politics of frustration and skepticism, maybe
the only thing more uncertain than a three-way race is a two-way
race.