TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/111191/1111106.000

Text File | 1992-08-28 | 5.9 KB | 120 lines

                                                                                NATION, Page 51

THE POLITICAL INTEREST

The Voters' Latest Ailment: Health Care


By Michael Kramer


    Harris Wofford is the luckiest of incumbent U.S.
Senators. He has the title and the perks that go with it, but
he hasn't been around long enough to be tarred as a Washington
insider -- a decided plus given the current political
environment.

    Whether or not Wofford upsets former Attorney General Dick
Thornburgh in this week's special election in Pennsylvania, the
magnitude and reasons for his comeback from near oblivion offer
significant lessons for those unlucky enough to be seeking
re-election in 1992, including, especially, George Bush.

    From the moment of his appointment last May following the
death of Republican John Heinz in a plane crash, Wofford, a
Great Society liberal, began transforming himself into a Huey
Long-like Democratic populist. In one early move, Wofford
rejected the $150,000 he was supposed to receive for mass
mailing expenses. In another, he renounced the $23,200 pay raise
the Senate had voted itself. "There's a national recession out
there," said Wofford. "Now is no time for us to be paying
ourselves more of our taxpayers' hard-earned dollars." Wofford
gave the extra money to a charity for injured gulf war veterans.

    Those actions won Wofford editorial praise, but he still
trailed Thornburgh by 44 points when the campaign began in
September. His anti-Establishment pledge to "shake Washington
up from top to bottom" contrasted with Thornburgh's defense of
the status quo, and marginally improved his standing. His call
for the Democratic Party to end its preoccupation with programs
targeted to the poor in favor of a renewed emphasis on
middle-class relief moved the needle a bit more, but Wofford was
still considered a certain loser.

    What finally made the race competitive was Wofford's
constant carping about America's sorry health-care system. "The
Constitution says that if you are charged with a crime, you have
a right to a lawyer," Wofford intoned endlessly. "But it's even
more fundamental that if you're sick, you should have the right
to a doctor." Thornburgh claimed that national health insurance
is too expensive, and rightly blasted Wofford for a lack of
specifics. But the G.O.P. counterattack failed to resonate, and
even Thornburgh was forced to admire Wofford's latest stunt, a
bill the Senator introduced three weeks ago that would deny to
himself and his congressional colleagues the free medical care
they now receive unless and until the Congress enacts a national
health-coverage program.

    While many political analysts have focused on Louisiana
(where David Duke, the racist former Klansman, is locked in a
tight race for Governor), the White House has been worrying
about Pennsylvania. "Win or lose, there are 1 1/2 crucial things
to learn from Wofford," says a senior Bush adviser. "The half
is about how a sagging economy can be played to advantage by
Democrats and about how easily a candidate perceived as an
outsider can play the desire-for-change theme against an
insider. The more important signal involves the sudden saliency
of the health-care issue."

    The rise of health care on the political radar screen is
relatively recent. "Basically it's because cost increases for
health care outpace family incomes by a factor of two or three,"
says the University of Maryland's William Galston, a leading
Democratic strategist. "The anxiety is increased because more
and more employers are requiring more and more employees to pay
a higher share of health-care costs. What's worse, many people
find themselves locked into jobs they don't like simply because
they're afraid of losing their existing health plans if they
change employment. As the inadequacy of health care is no longer
simply an underclass problem, it becomes a more important issue
politically."

    At last count, 30 health-care proposals described as
"comprehensive" were floating around Congress, and three of the
Democratic presidential candidates have offered plans of their
own. The most intriguing is Nebraska Senator Bob Kerrey's, which
would require a 5% increase in payroll taxes. Normally, as
Walter Mondale learned in 1984, he who advocates tax increases
commits political suicide. But recent polls reveal that
two-thirds of Americans view health care as a "right that should
be guaranteed by the government" and that 70% would pay higher
taxes so that all citizens can be insured.

    Bush, meanwhile, is frozen. He announced in his 1990 State
of the Union address that Health and Human Services Secretary
Louis Sullivan would review the "quality, accessibility and cost
of our nation's health-care system," and he talks about the
problem at almost every domestic policy strategy session. But
Sullivan's report is nowhere in sight, and the President's
campaign advisers concede their inability to construct a program
pleasing to all. "It's an issue that works better as a statement
of general principle and concern," says a Bush aide, "but as
Kerrey and the others get down to details, we'll be pushed to
come up with our own. Politically, it's hard to see the upside
in any particular plan, but it would be worse if we sit on our
hands and let the other side define the discussion."

    Yet that is exactly what Bush might ultimately do. Right
now the campaign debate within the White House is consumed with
tactics: Should Bush promulgate his own health-care plan or wait
to respond to the Democratic nominee? If Bush stalls, his
approval rating may sink in the face of a challenger who
appears to know where he wants to go and is courageous enough
to say how he intends to get there. Sometimes even incumbents
must accommodate the old political rule: in times of high
anxiety, the race goes to the risk taker.