TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/091090/0910107.000

Text File | 1992-08-28 | 7.4 KB | 165 lines

                                                                                NATION, Page 40

A New Ball Game


Black and female candidates have changed some of the political
rules

By MARGARET CARLSON/WASHINGTON


    Pity the White Male Candidate. For nearly two centuries WMCs
had politics all to themselves. But this year, facing a record
number of female and black opponents, they are finding that the
negative ads and hardball rhetoric that worked so well when one
WMC squared off against another are less effective when the
target is a woman or a black.

    With 77 women running for Governor or the Congress, WMCs
might be forgiven for wondering why a woman can't be more like
a man. Treating a woman like a lady -- or even worse, a girl
-- can seem condescending and patronizing. But being too rough
also has its perils. Humor has to watch its step. A joke the
slightest bit off-key can come across as a sexist put-down.
When anything a candidate says can be used against him, even
metaphors must be sexually correct. Warns Republican political
consultant Eddie Mahe: "A sports reference like `three yards
and a cloud of dust' can get you in trouble if you are running
against a woman."

    A similar etiquette goes into effect when a WMC runs against
a black. This year Doug Wilder wannabes joined the races for
Governor of Georgia (Andrew Young lost the Democratic primary)
and South Carolina, and in North Carolina former Charlotte
Mayor Harvey Gantt is trying to deny Jesse Helms a third term
in the U.S. Senate. For WMCs in such contests, references to
black marks on their opponents' records are clearly out of
bounds, as are allusions to crime and welfare dependency, which
might have racist overtones. Blacks are freer to flirt with
racial rhetoric. In the primary battle between black former
Federal Judge Alcee Hastings and ex-Ku Klux Klan leader John
Paul Rogers to be Florida's secretary of state, Hastings got
a laugh last month by quipping, "If [Rogers] doesn't burn
crosses in my neighborhood, I won't spit watermelon seeds in
his." If Rogers had made the vow in reverse, he would have been
accused of bigotry.

    So what are WMCs supposed to do? They are trying a variety
of tactics with varying degrees of success.


    The Barbie-Doll Treatment. This strategy -- painting a
female foe as simply too sweet for the job -- is being tested
by WMCs in several states. In Colorado Republican Senate
hopeful Hank Brown dismissed Democrat Josie Heath's written
demand that he put in escrow $605,000 raised for his campaign
at a luncheon chaired by a Denver developer with the comment,
"It's a cute letter, but without substance." Heath snapped back
that Brown's remarks were "incredibly patronizing. Modern men
and women in this country today are well past using language
like `cute' with a woman's serious request on a matter of grave
importance."

    The most frenzied version of this technique is taking place
in California. Just after Dianne Feinstein won the Democratic
nomination for Governor last June, her G.O.P. challenger,
Senator Pete Wilson, tried to show that behind those severely
tailored suits and 10 successful years as mayor of San
Francisco was just another softhearted female. He broadcast a
television commercial showcasing a letter from Feinstein that
concluded with the handwritten postscript "You're wonderful."
She quickly rejoined with a Ken-doll put-down: "I guess men
like to be called wonderful . . . I'm glad he treasures it and
keeps it." Wilson then blasted Feinstein for taking a vacation
and challenged her to debate him. Feinstein fired back, "Please
have your campaign director contact my campaign director." And
she stayed at the beach. Recent polls show they are locked in
a dead heat.


    Piltdown Put-Down. This strategy was pioneered in 1984 by
Vice President Bush when he boasted that he had "tried to kick
a little ass" in his televised debate with Geraldine Ferraro.
Similarly, Republican Clayton Williams, running against state
treasurer Ann Richards in the battle for Governor of Texas,
seems to be less worried about being too insensitive than about
not being insensitive enough. For that great swath of good ole
boys caught like him in a mid-life culture shift, Williams has
vowed to bring back the days when a man was a man and a woman
knew that her place was not at the top of the Democratic
ticket. He started by asserting that he would be "uncomfortable"
running against a woman on the grounds that "maybe she's
meaner and tougher, I don't know." Then, at a cattle roundup
at his West Texas ranch last March, he allowed that bad weather
was like rape: "If it's inevitable, just relax and enjoy it."
Next he proclaimed that when he was growing up, being serviced
by prostitutes was part of a healthy male's coming of age. Soon
his aides were chiming in. One remarked that Richards had
"danced around the issue [of flag burning] so much, her
position ought to be `read my hips.'" Then two Christian
activists with financial ties to Williams labeled Richards "an
honorary lesbian" for supporting gay rights. After Richards
charged that Williams was using surrogates to attack her and
"hiding behind skirts," his reply went about as far as a
candidate can go in a family campaign: "By the time this
election is over with, that person will have all of me she
wants."

    Despite, or because of, his so-called gaffes, Williams
remains well ahead in the polls, 47% to 37%, with 57% of men
to Richard's 28%. Richard Shingles, a scholar at Virginia
Polytechnic Institute who is doing a study on gender and race
in politics, explains that in Texas "it takes more for a man
to be perceived as a bully than it takes for a woman to be
perceived as a bitch."


    Black Attack. Being overtly antiblack is even more out of
style than being antifemale. Although Jesse Helms' success is
due partly to opposing civil rights legislation, these days he
must find a way to keep white voters focused on Gantt's
complexion while seeming to be above appeals to prejudice.
That's where James Meredith comes in.

    Since becoming the first black to enroll at the University
of Mississippi in 1962, Meredith has moved away from the civil
rights mainstream. Among his achievements since joining Helms'
staff last year: firing off a press release in July declaring
that of the 3,000 delegates to the recent convention of the
National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, "I
have a background profile on more than half of [them], and over
60% are involved in the drug culture and at least 80% are
involved in criminal or immoral activities" Helms mildly
criticized Meredith for using Senate letterhead. Gantt called
Meredith's comments "racist." Democratic National Committee
chairman Ron Brown, a black, whom Meredith called on to admit
whether he had ever used drugs, said through a spokeswoman that
he would "submit to a drug test any day of the week if James
Meredith submits to an IQ test." The latest Mason-Dixon poll
shows Gantt only slightly ahead, with 46% of the vote to Helms'
44%.


    These clumsy techniques show that being a WMC is not as much
of an asset as it used to be. WMCs are, after all, mainly to
blame for the bulging deficit, the savings and loan debacle and
a host of other ills. Substantively and stylistically, it's a
minefield out there for the WMC. This may be the year when
outsiders have the inside track.