Time - Man of the Year/Time_Man_of_the_Year_Compact_Publishing_3YX-Disc-1_Compact_Publishing_1993.iso/moy/100592/10059927.000

Text File | 1993-04-08 | 5KB | 98 lines

                                                                                U.S. CAMPAIGN, Page 31

THE ASTROTURF MOVEMENT


Perot claims that grass-roots supporters are pushing him to
run, but in fact he has carefully nurtured -- and bankrolled
-- his volunteer network

By DAVID SEIDEMAN -- With reporting by Sally B. Donnelly/Los
Angeles and Richard Woodbury/Houston


    When Ross Perot first floated the idea of running for the
White House, he put his fate in the hands of anonymous
"volunteers." Their success at getting him on all 50 state
ballots, he said, would be the deciding factor. Now that he is
moving to return to the race, the Texas billionaire is again
posing as a selfless Cincinnatus, standing ready to do the
people's bidding. His decision to become a candidate again, he
said last week, would come "from the bottom up." He added, "This
is not three or four guys in a smoke-filled room deciding what
we ought to be told to do."

    In fact, the grass-roots movement he invokes looks more
like an Astroturf carpet, rolled out by a cadre of Dallas
insiders and funded out of Perot's deep pockets. Since he pulled
out of the race on July 16, Perot has pumped in more than $4
million to keep his candidacy alive, much of it to bankroll the
petition drive that has put him on the ballot in all 50 states.

    In New York State alone, Perot paid about $1 million to
hire 80 temporary workers through employment agencies and
newspaper advertisements. Earning from $8 to $10 an hour, they
crisscrossed New York City beseeching passersby to sign up
before the state's Aug. 27th filing deadline. Elsewhere, Perot's
bounty has subsidized the remains of his political operation.
The Florida campaign, which has shrunk from 38 to 10 outposts,
solicits donations through a newsletter. In South Carolina and
other states, workers are hawking Perot bumper stickers,
baseball caps and T-shirts. But none of these offices could stay
open without the $7,500 monthly stipends from Dallas to pay for
rent, phones, utilities and supplies.

    One of the shrewdest ploys for keeping Perot's name in the
news was the publication in August of his book, United We
Stand, whose title is also the name of his newly launched
advocacy group. The book contains the drastic economic
prescriptions that Perot made public only after withdrawing from
the race. Perot has won the attention and credibility he craves
by helping to keep the slim volume on the New York Times
paperback best-seller list. Volunteers, using the author's own
money, are urged to buy the plan, then distribute it free of
charge at Perot field offices, to public libraries and to
interested voters. Steve Fridrich, director of the Perot
campaign in Tennessee, has bought 2,000 copies. "People who
earlier thought he couldn't do any good now think he can,"
Fridrich says. "The phone's ringing like crazy; it's like old
home week. They're all coming back."

    Fridrich and some other state leaders serve at Perot's
pleasure. Without the advice of local volunteers, Perot
headquarters has handpicked representatives, who are flown to
Dallas for high-level meetings. Some of these leaders owe their
positions to the dedication they showed earlier in the campaign.
Others, however, belong to the tycoon's large network of
personal cronies.

    Orson Swindle, who oversees all the state directors and
heads United We Stand, downplays his authority. "I feel like I'm
trying to hold down 25 ping-pong balls underwater with one hand.
I'm the leader of a loose coalition of loose coalitions," he
says. Despite his professed egalitarianism, Swindle, an ex-POW,
tries to keep a firm grip on his troops. In the face of
internecine rivalries that have weakened the movement in the
wake of Perot's July withdrawal, he fired off a stiff memo to
the field coordinators in August. "Please folks, let's cut out
the internal positioning and get on with the really important
issues at hand -- insuring the election of Ross Perot as the
next President," wrote Swindle in a directive obtained by the
New York Times. "ACCEPT THE APPOINTED LEADERSHIP! We have work
to do."

    When his popularity was at its peak last spring, Perot's
candidacy was buoyed by waves of idealistic volunteers. That
Perot has since had to lean increasingly on old cronies and
inside operatives to resurrect himself reflects the
disillusionment of his original supporters. Forsaken once
before, they are less likely to heed his call again.