TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/election/84elect/84elect.006

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                                                                                September 3, 1984

NATION

Setting Out to Whomp 'Em


The Republicans sound the battle cry as they renominate Reagan
and Bush


     Very little was left to chance. The proceedings were so
carefully scripted that virtually the only suspense was whether
all 50,000 balloons in the Dallas Convention Center would
disgorge on cue when Ronald Reagan and George Bush appeared on
the podium for their victory waves the final evening. The
party's conservative leadership was in such firm control that
minority dissenters to the platform had no chance to raise
their criticisms on the floor. Many of the principal speeches
were edited by two Reagan campaign staffers, which may have been
why there was such a similarity to the ring of the rhetoric.

     But for whatever last week's Republican National
Convention failed to achieve as political drama, it played
wonderfully well as pageantry, especially after the King arrived
for his coronation. Merely by waving at Wife Nancy on a giant
closed-circuit television monitor visible throughout the hall,
Ronald Reagan, Rex Republicanus, brought his G.O.P. court
roaring to its feet. Formally accepting his nomination to a
second term, Reagan could hardly restrain the ecstatic ritual
chants of "Four more years!" that repeatedly interrupted his
speech. While savoring the moment, he finally pointed to his
watch and reminded his audience, "It's getting late."

     Even before he arrived in Dallas at midweek from
Washington, it was clear that Reagan bestrode his party like few
candidates before him. Not since 1972, when Richard Nixon faced
George McGovern, had G.O.P. strategists been more confident of
reviving what Kansas Senator Robert Dole called "an old and
honored tradition, the two-term presidency."  Not since Dwight
Eisenhower's second campaign for the White House in 1956 could
the Republicans offer a more salable candidate. Polls are
showing Reagan at the peak of his popularity with American
voters; they are also documenting signs of new national
feelings of patriotism and optimism that could only benefit an
incumbent, particularly one so adept at exploiting that mood --
a mood Reagan gets much credit for fostering.

     Despite omens so favorable that overconfidence seemed to
be the G.O.P.'s lone hazard, the spirit of Dallas was
surprisingly feisty, even belligerent. Speaker after speaker
sharply berated the Democrats, eliciting war cries and hoots
from a convention that seemed to smell blood. The best-received
barbs, and the constant efforts to link Walter Mondale to the
Carter presidency, reflected a conservative ideology that
relished its moment of triumph within the party. In notable
contrast to his acceptance speech in Detroit four years ago,
Reagan endorsed the tendentious tone with an unusually sharp
attack of his own. He called the election "the clearest
political choice of half a century," involving "two
fundamentally different ways of governing -- their Government
of pessimism, fear and limits, or ours of hope, confidence and
growth."  Indeed, he went so far as to suggest that the approach
suggested by the Democrats is "accompanied always by more
Government authority, less individual liberty, and ultimately
totalitarianism."

     The hard-swinging assaults were designed, Republican
strategists said, to ensure that the party did not become
complacent. Privately, however, G.O.P. leaders seemed assured
that all signs were pointing to a November victory. Said
Republican Pollster Richard Wirthlin: "The earth, the moon, the
sun and the planets are all in a moment of favorable
alignment." He could have added to that list the astronomical
recovery of the economy. The Commerce Department last week
revised upward its estimate of growth in the gross national
product during the year's second quarter, from 7.5% to an annual
rate of 7.6%. The Administration predicted that growth would
continue for the rest of the year and average 6.5%, its highest
one-year rise since 1955. Consumer prices, the most closely
watched gauge of inflation, notched up in July at an annual clip
of 3.5%, slightly higher than in the previous two months but
still quite within an acceptable range.

     Delivering the G.O.P. keynote speech this year would have
been a challenge for anyone, inviting as it did comparisons with
New York Governor Mario Cuomo's slick but stirring opening
address to the Democratic Convention. The Republican choice,
U.S. Treasurer Katherine Davalos Ortega, did not even try to
make it a contest. As she noted, "There are many members of our
party more eloquent than I."  Her presence on the rostrum Monday
night was mainly symbolic, designed to highlight a ranking woman
and a Hispanic in a party that is attempting to woo both
groups. Ironically, from the standpoint of convention planners,
Ortega's principal oratorical weak point was neither her soft
voice nor her slow speaking pace; it was the lack of a
distinctive Spanish accent.

     The evening's de facto keynote speech came from a more
accomplished woman orator, U.N. Ambassador (and lifelong
Democrat) Jeane Kirkpatrick, who drew an appreciative roar by
announcing "This is the first Republican Convention I have ever
attended."  Kirkpatrick contended that Reagan's foreign
policies have "silenced talk of inevitable American decline and
reminded the world of the advantages of freedom."  By contrast,
she declared, in a more-in-sorrow-than-anger lecture that
reflected her academic background, the previous Administration
too frequently blamed the U.S. for problems it did not cause.
"Jimmy Carter looked for an explanation for all these problems
and thought he found it in the American people," said
Kirkpatrick. "But the people knew better. It wasn't malaise we
suffered from. It was Jimmy Carter and Walter Mondale." The
delegates loved it.

     Any scant chance that the seamless proceedings might be
interrupted by floor debates ended on Tuesday with the
adoption, by acclamation, of a 74-page platform crafted almost
entirely by the party's conservatives. The document endorsed
the social agenda long advocated by Reagan, including voluntary
school prayer, tuition tax credits for private and parochial
education, and an anti-abortion amendment. But it went beyond
White House wishes on some issues, notably in opposing "any
attempts to increase taxes," which Reagan has said he might have
to do as a "last resort."

     Dispirited G.O.P. moderates, who lost every battle to
soften some of the platform language, glumly admitted that it
was pointless to carry their fight to the convention floor.
Said Connecticut Senator Lowell Weicker:  "The far right
controls the Republican Party."  In adopting without debate such
favorite conservative proposals as considering a return to the
gold standard and a balanced-budget amendment, the Dallas
convention seemed determined to prove Weicker right. George
Bush, however, ridiculed the notion that "the furthest-out
fringes" of the New Right had seized party control. "They don't
have anything but great big mail lists and great big mimeograph
machines," he said in a TV interview.

     The first major floor demonstration followed the
introduction of Jack Kemp, the ardent apostle of supply-side
economics, who is touted by some conservatives as the logical
heir to the Reagan legacy. Hundreds of KEMP signs waved and
bobbed throughout the hall as the former pro-football
quarterback took the podium. Looking suitably surprised by the
well-orchestrated display of future support, Kemp went on to
compare the foreign policies of Carter, "seeming to grow old
before our eyes," with those of Reagan, who "actually seems to
be getting younger." Turning to Central America, he charged that
the opposition would "shun the task of cultivating democracy."
Declared Kemp:  "The leaders of the Democratic Party aren't
soft on Communism; they're soft on democracy."

     Former President Gerald Ford provided a ringing defense of
the Reagan Administration's record of fairness, a favorite
Mondale attack point. "Is it fair to make promises you can't
keep?  Is it fair to keep promises the country can't afford?"
asked the ex-President. "That is Mondale's record."  Citing the
drastic fall in the inflation rate and other economic gains
scored during the Reagan Administration, Ford concluded, "That's
what I call being fair to everybody."

     Reagan was welcomed to Dallas on Wednesday afternoon with
a rip-roaring reception in an atrium of the lavish Loews
Anatole Hotel. As cheering supporters lined a 14-story,
banner-bedecked tier of balconies above him. The President began
his remarks in an expansive spirit, pledging to build "an
opportunity society for every man, woman and child."  But he
later invoked the war cry of the Dallas Cowboys, doubtless
extending it to the Dallas Republicans. "There's an expression
you have down this way that I like," Reagan said. "You don't
just score victories -- you whomp 'em."

     That night Nancy Reagan captured the heart of the
convention during a brief solo appearance. Radiant in a
shimmering white dress, she thanked party regulars for their
moral support during the days of Reagan's recovery from the
assassination attempt of 1981. Closing with an appeal to "make
it one more for the Gipper," she acknowledged the crowd's
applause by blowing kisses. Then she spotted her husband's live
image on a huge closed-circuit video screen behind the podium
and began waving to him. In his hotel suite, Reagan, seated
beside Bush and dressed casually in slacks and an open-necked
shirt, at first looked puzzled as he was shown watching her.
Then he waved back across the air waves.

     The convention's mood turned nostalgic as it welcomed
Arizona Senator Barry Goldwater, the G.O.P.'s 1964 presidential
nominee and at 75 still its grandest old conservative. As
Goldwater, who has undergone surgery for heart and hip ailments
in recent years, limped to the podium, few in the hall needed
reminding that an electrifying televised campaign speech on
Goldwater's behalf 20 years ago by a Hollywood has-been had
launched Ronald Reagan on his political career. Reagan aides
had hoped that Goldwater would not dwell too much on his old
crusades, but the Senator was unswayed by pleas that he not
repeat the most famous and divisive line from his own acceptance
speech. He uttered it with gusto:  "Let me remind you,
extremism in the defense of liberty is no vice."

     Furthermore, Goldwater said, "it has been the foreign
policy and defense weakness of Democrat Administrations that
have led us to war in the past," thus reviving an old, seldom
used Republican charge that a Democrat was in the White House
at the start of every war fought by the U.S. in this century.
Other Republican speakers had limited their Democrat bashing
to the current ticket, but Goldwater had crustily rejected all
requests to tone down his remarks. Explained a Reagan aide:  "He
insisted on keeping the lines he liked."

     The President's close friend Senator Paul Laxalt of Nevada
was chosen once again to place Reagan's name in nomination. In
so doing, he praised the President's brand of leadership as
"guts with reason," citing as an example his decision to send
U.S. troops to the Caribbean island of Grenada. Said Laxalt:
"He made the tough call. If he hadn't, Grenada today might well
be in the Soviet orbit."  The Nevada Senator was sharply
effective in his attacks on the Democratic Party, which he said
"is now the home of special interests, the social-welfare
complex, the antidefense lobby and the lighter-than- air
liberals."

     As Wednesday night's roll call proceeded predictably --
votes for Reagan and Bush were cast on the same ballot -- the
President and Bush were joined in the Reagans' suite by their
wives. The Missouri delegation's vote boosted the uncontested
ticket over the top just 45 min. later than the script said it
would. Ever ready with a one-liner, Reagan quipped, "We've
been sweating this out."

     Reagan began the next morning with an "ecumenical prayer
breakfast," attended by 17,000 Christian laymen and church
leaders, most of them evangelicals. To the delight of his
audience, the President delivered his strongest attack ever on
opponents of a proposed constitutional amendment that would
permit voluntary school prayer. Claiming that the amendment's
passage has been blocked by its critics "in the name of
tolerance," Reagan asked, "Isn't the real truth that they are
intolerant of religion?  They refuse to tolerate its importance
in our lives."  In a debatable assertion that went well beyond
the issue of school prayer, Reagan went on to say that
"religion and politics are necessarily related," and "this has
worked to our benefit as a nation."

     Bush maintained the convention's rhetorical tone in his
acceptance speech. Referring to the opposition as "the tax
raisers, the free spenders, the excess regulators, the
Government-knows-best hand wringers," the Vice President
declared, "You've had your chance. Your time has passed."

     The task of introducing the star attraction fell to the
star himself. As the lights in the hall dimmed, an evocative
film portrayal of the President, with Reagan as narrator,
appeared on the screen. The video was something of a cross
between a Pepsi-Cola commercial (happy young people, catchy
music) and The Natural (mythic baseball heroism inspired by Love
and Personal Fidelity, back-lighted by the sun, awash with
violins). That was no surprise:  the 18-min. movie was crafted,
in large part, by Phil Dusenberry, coauthor of the screenplay
for The Natural and vice chairman and executive creative
director of the BBDO, Inc., advertising agency, which handles
the Pepsi account.

     The movie, in fact, became one of the few subjects of
public debate at the convention. Both CBS and ABC declined to
air it on the grounds that it was a political commercial, a
position all three networks had taken when asked to show a
similar film about Mondale during the Democratic Convention.
But NBC agreed to broadcast the Reagan production, contending
that the controversy about whether the film would be aired had
turned it into a newsworthy event.

     The film, paid for by the Republican Party, was created,
along with one about the First Lady, at a cost of $425,000. It
opens with flash visual cuts melded by harmonic melodies:
Reagan taking the oath of office, a dad embracing his little
girl, ethnic workers giving thanks for their jobs. From there
it flows through scenes of Reagan riding his horse, the liftoff
of the space shuttle, the Statue of Liberty (twice) and a
somewhat jarring replay of the assassination attempt followed
by Reagan talking of how the late Terence Cardinal Cooke of New
York had told him that "God must have been on your shoulder."
The emotional culmination is a teary Ronald Reagan, choking as
he tries to finish an address to graying veterans of D-day
gathered in Normandy last June.

     It was an act that only Ronald Reagan could follow. The
sole uncertainty was whether he would use his speech as the
opening shot of the re-election campaign or as an uplifting
conciliatory counterpoint to many of the speakers who had
preceded him. For the most part, he chose the former course,
disappointing some supporters who had hoped he would use the
occasion of his final investiture as candidate to explore a
vision of where the party, and the nation, should move during
the next four years. He was urged to do so by some aides. But
in the end, said one, Reagan decided "there is no advantage in
sitting on your lead."

     Not that the President's 55-min. speech disappointed his
listeners. On the contrary, they interrupted it 95 times with
applause. They answered with hearty choruses of "No!" when
Reagan asked whether they had any doubts that the Democrats
would "make Government bigger than ever and deficits even
worse, raise unemployment" and "make unilateral and unwise
concessions to the Soviet Union."  In fact, they were so eager
to be roused that they would not allow Reagan to complete one
of his punch lines. Saying that he was tempted to compare
Democratic spending habits to those of a drunken sailor, Reagan
said, "But that would be unfair to drunken sailors."  The
audience erupted in laughter before he added, "Because the
sailors are spending their own money."  Another interruption
occurred when Reagan paraphrased Will Rogers and accused the
Democrats of never meeting a "tax they didn't like."  The
President had to wait for applause to subside before adding, "Or
hike."

     The President had been nettled by the Democrats' searing
appraisal of Reaganomics in San Francisco. More than half the
speech was devoted to defending his record. Then he set forth a
particularly stark delineation of the choice between the
Democratic plan for the future and his own, using a formulation
similar to the sharp "war and peace" alternatives that Jimmy
Carter envisioned on the 1980 campaign trail. Said Reagan:
"Isn't our choice really not one of left or right but of up or
down -- down through the welfare state to statism, to more and
more Government largesse ... The alternative is the dream
conceived by our founding fathers, up, up to the ultimate in
individual freedom consistent with an orderly society."  He
concluded with a rambling evocation of the new patriotic spirit
conveyed by the passage of the Olympic torch across America.

     As Reagan noted near the end of his speech, "Four years ago
we raised a banner of bold colors -- no pale pastels."
Certainly there was nothing muted about what the President, or
his party colleagues and their platform, had to say last week.
As the ardent cheering for Reagan's acceptance speech swelled,
even the balloons behaved. Red ones fell from nets on the
ceiling, white ones rose from the floor.

     Reagan may be far ahead in the polls, but it was clear in
Dallas as it had been in San Francisco -- each convention
raising partisan adrenaline to fever levels -- that the fall
campaign will be hard- fought. As the Republicans headed home,
Walter Mondale returned to the campaign stump after a four-day
hiatus. He sent Reagan a telegram repeating his challenge to at
least six debates.

     Nor did Reagan lose any time getting on the campaign trail.
 At a Veterans of Foreign Wars convention in Chicago, he
accused the Democrats of being responsible for a "dismal chapter
of failed policies and self-doubt."  They claimed to be for a
strong defense, he chided, while advocating the cancellation of
the B-1B bomber and MX missile and supporting a nuclear arms
freeze. That sort of stance, he said, reminded him of the
saying, "Any jackass can kick a barn down, but it takes a
carpenter to build one."

     Summer may still be sweltering along, and ten weeks may
remain before Election Day. But for the two seasoned
campaigners in this year's presidential race, the training
schedule is over; the game is on.

-- By William R. Doerner. Reported by Laurence I. Barrett and
Christopher Ogden/Dallas.