TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/052091/0520101.000

Text File | 1992-08-28 | 17KB | 363 lines

                                                                                NATION, Page 18

COVER STORIES

Five Who Fit the Bill


If Bush wanted a new Vice President, he would not have to look
far for candidates who are competent and compatible


    Savvy, Gravitas And a Good Resume -- DICK CHENEY

    Pros: Experience in Congress, the White House and Cabinet;
          proven loyalty; solid right-wing credentials.

    Cons: Heart problems; home state of Wyoming has few electoral
          votes.

    Scenario: By having a savvy pro as backup, Bush can reassure
              conservative voters.


    The President could choose no more experienced
man-in-waiting than Dick Cheney. Consider his resume: Secretary
of Defense; former White House chief of staff; former Republican
whip in the House of Representatives; co-author with wife Lynne,
who heads the National Endowment for the Humanities, of a
lively book about past leaders of the House. Cheney is a
pragmatic conservative who earned the respect of liberal
Democrats with his good humor and willingness to hear -- if not
heed -- opposing arguments.

    At 50, Cheney is a political generation younger than Bush.
Yet he conveys a sense of assurance and gravitas -- what the
British call bottom -- that the callow Quayle may never attain.

    The son of a former Department of Agriculture employee,
Cheney was born in Nebraska but grew up in Caspar, Wyo. He won
a scholarship to Yale but dropped out after three semesters. "I
wasn't a serious student," Cheney told the Washington Post.
After bumming around the West for a couple of years, he enrolled
at the University of Wyoming and graduated in 1965 with a B.A.
in political science.

    While working toward a doctorate in that subject at the
University of Wisconsin, Cheney plunged into politics and hardly
ever looked back. He went to Washington in 1968 as a staffer to
a Republican Congressman, who soon loaned him to Donald
Rumsfeld, head of the Office of Economic Opportunity. When
Rumsfeld moved to Nixon's White House as counsellor, Cheney went
along as his deputy. He escaped the Watergate tarnish by
resigning in 1973 to work for a firm of Washington lobbyists.

    A year later, Rumsfeld and Cheney were back in the White
House as part of Gerald Ford's transition team. Cheney succeeded
his old pal as chief of staff, gaining a reputation as a cool,
self-effacing, politically shrewd manager. After Ford's loss to
Jimmy Carter, Cheney ran for Wyoming's one seat in the House.
He won, although during the G.O.P. primary he suffered the first
of his three heart attacks, at the age of 37.

    In his six terms in Congress Cheney built a rock-solid
conservative record, supporting such favorite Reagan programs
as Star Wars and military aid to Nicaragua's contras. Despite
his lack of military expertise, the Senate easily confirmed him
as Secretary of Defense after rejecting Bush's first choice,
John Tower. Cheney quickly showed his mettle by publicly
censuring the Air Force chief of staff for appearing to
negotiate strategic missile-deployment options with Congress
without authorization. In joint TV appearances with General
Colin Powell during the gulf war, Cheney impressed Bush -- not
to mention millions of other Americans -- as a captain in
command.

    Cheney's record and his proven skills at stroking Congress
would be solid pluses for the Defense Secretary as a running
mate for Bush. Some Washington insiders believe he would take
the job if offered it. He is very low key as a campaign orator,
however, and three years ago he underwent a heart bypass
operation. His doctor says he's fine. But Democrats could, not
unfairly, ask whether the men on a Bush-Cheney team had a good
ticker between the two of them.


    First in War, Second in Peace? -- COLIN POWELL

    Pros: A war hero with experience in foreign relations; a
          black candidate with "crossover" appeal to whites.

    Cons: Has never held elective office; may be a closet
          liberal.

    Scenario: If Bush feels confident of winning, the choice of
              Powell would allow him to lure the black vote while
              putting Willie Horton behind him.


    No sooner had the Persian Gulf war ended when polls showed
that a large majority of Americans preferred Colin Powell to
Dan Quayle as a running mate for Bush in 1992. Powell's
response was double edged. "I have no interest in politics at
the moment," he declared. At this moment, at least, no one is
even sure whether Powell leans toward the Republicans or the
Democrats. (He's registered as an Independent.) But if the
Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff could be persuaded to
reconsider his not quite Shermanesque refusal, Bush could hardly
choose a more symbolically powerful running mate -- or a more
capable one. During the war, Powell not only became a national
presence but emerged as a model of Americans as they like to
imagine themselves. He seemed a man of action who was deeply
reflective as well -- direct, lucid and unflappable. His
presence on the ticket would be a palpable reminder of the
(mostly) successful U.S. war in the gulf.

    While Quayle sometimes brings to mind Bush's own
privileged background and occasional air of pale inaction,
Powell could underscore the side of Bush that the President
would like voters to keep in mind: the grave and decisive
commander. The tale of Powell's childhood in the South Bronx,
where his parents were Jamaican immigrants, could even provide
a countervailing mythology if the Democrats nominate Mario
Cuomo, with his famous saga of growing up in nearby Queens as
the son of an immigrant Italian grocer.

    Powell is perceived by some critics as a "political
general," closely attuned to congressional sensitivities and the
slow drag of the legislative process. But such proclivities
could just as easily be read as assets for a Vice President.
Though he has never held elective office, he can claim almost
two decades of political experience in Washington. After
completing two tours in Vietnam and serving in a series of other
military posts, Powell came to the attention of official
Washington in 1972, when a White House fellowship placed him in
the Office of Management and Budget. He rarely ventured outside
the Beltway again, meanwhile filling some of the most powerful
jobs in America, including National Security Adviser to Ronald
Reagan and his current post as Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of
Staff. "I don't know anybody in this town who's served so long
in such sensitive jobs who's been as free of criticism as
Colin," says former Secretary of Defense Caspar Weinberger,
Powell's onetime boss.

    Despite his impressive credentials, the most potent
quality that Powell would bring to the Bush ticket would be his
race. For the most part the general has sidestepped any attempt
to categorize him as a prominent African-American. And for the
most part he has succeeded. Yet the significance of making
Powell the first black nominee for the vice presidency would be
profound. In narrow political terms, it would almost certainly
attract large numbers of black voters who could otherwise be
counted on to support the Democrats. It would go far toward
allowing George Bush to put behind him the dismal misuse of
Willie Horton in 1988. But no matter what Powell's presence
might mean for the Republican ticket, more important by far is
what it would mean for the nation.


    Talk Softly and Carry a Big State -- PETE WILSON

    Pros: Activist Governor of big state, appeals to
          independents.

    Cons: Not close to Bush, limited executive experience.

    Scenario: California's big lode of Electoral College votes
              is essential to recapturing the White House.


    If Bush were to dump Dan Quayle for Pete Wilson, voters
might be forgiven for thinking the new G.O.P. ticket was
composed of clones. Drawling a speech on the hustings, the
recently elected Governor of California sounds amazingly like
the President. When he screws up his face, he even looks a bit
like Bush. There is a political resemblance as well: both are
moderates distrusted by the Republican right wing.

    Conservatives' misgivings might not dissuade Bush from
selecting Wilson if Republican strategists concluded that the
President's re-election chances were in jeopardy. Because
California's population grew 6 million, to more than 29 million
during the 1980s, the state will have 54 electoral votes in the
1992 election -- nearly one-fifth the 270 needed to capture the
White House. Despite a lack of charisma so glaring that the Los
Angeles Times recently dubbed him Robopol, Wilson, 57, knows how
to carry California. He has won three tough statewide elections,
including a 49%-46% defeat of feisty Democrat Dianne Feinstein
in last year's Governor's race.

    Wilson would also be an appropriate choice if Bush wants
to beckon to the political center outside California. Wilson is a
solid supporter of a strong U.S. military and reduced
government spending. But his approval of abortion and advocacy
of limits on oil drilling would appeal to youngish suburbanites,
who, for the first time, may be a majority of voters in next
year's race. G.O.P. conservatives are not likely to abandon a
Bush-Wilson ticket, but there is a political risk: if it won,
Wilson would have to leave California in the hands of a
Democratic Lieutenant Governor and the Democratic-led
legislature.

    Like countless other Californians, Wilson came from
someplace else: Chicago born, he grew up in St. Louis. He got
his start in politics as a law student at the University of
California, Berkeley, where he organized a campus Young
Republicans Club. In 1971, after serving five years in the state
assembly, Wilson was elected mayor of San Diego. During three
terms in city hall, he imposed restrictions on the city's
untrammeled growth.

    In 1982, Wilson ran for California's then vacant Senate
seat and beat ex-Governor Jerry Brown. Wilson was a true-blue
Reaganite in backing the Strategic Defense Initiative and Robert
Bork's nomination to the Supreme Court. But he also voted to
override the President's veto of civil rights legislation.

    In his four months as Governor, Wilson has sought to
establish himself as a tough fiscal manager. Confronted by a
stagnating state economy, a $12.6 billion budget gap, and a
drought that has threatened California agriculture, Wilson has
proposed slashing welfare payments and state aid to local school
systems. The state's voters appear impressed by his activism,
even though the success of such proposals remains to be seen.

    Wilson's aides say the Governor would not leap to join the
ticket, although he makes little effort to conceal his plans to
run for President in 1996. But Wilson might be tempted, since
the exposure he would gain by serving as the President's
standby could help him to achieve that goal.


    From Kansas with Plenty of Moxie -- NANCY KASSEBAUM

    Pros: An independent woman from a conservative corn-belt
          state.

    Cons: Her pro-abortion, pro-ERA stands have offended the
          Republican right wing.

    Scenario: If early polls show women voters leaning toward the
              Democrats, Bush may look for a magnet to attract
              them.


    It's hard to imagine Nancy Kassebaum playing second
fiddle, even on a national ticket. The three-term Kansas Senator
-- one of just two women in the upper house of Congress -- is
famous for the independent streak that led her to oppose Ronald
Reagan on school prayer, Star Wars and a balanced-budget
amendment while supporting abortion rights and sanctions against
South Africa. Despite powerful pressure from her own party, she
was the only Republican to vote against George Bush's choice of
John Tower to be his Secretary of Defense.

    Perhaps she inherited her ornery side from her late
father, Alf Landon, the 1936 Republican presidential candidate
and longtime icon of Plains state Republicanism. Wherever it
came from, her independence has helped make Kassebaum her
state's most popular elected official -- take that, Robert Dole!
-- while at the same time leaving the G.O.P. right wing deeply
suspicious of her.

    Her undoctrinaire conservatism could be just the thing,
however, to help the G.O.P. attract suburban swing voters who
may identify with the party on economics but are put off by the
more strident right-wing positions on social questions like
abortion rights. Kassebaum's unemphatic but unmistakable
feminism could also help Bush close the gender gap by luring
female voters away from the Democratic Party. Her recognized
talent for building coalitions would make her an effective
lobbyist for the Administration on Capitol Hill, which is one
role that Vice Presidents customarily play.

    Kassebaum is not the only prominent Republican woman whom
Bush might consider. The short list could include U.S. Trade
Representative Carla Hills; former Secretary of Transportation
Elizabeth Dole; and Secretary of Labor Lynn Martin, a Bush
favorite who helped him prepare for his 1984 vice-presidential
debate against Geraldine Ferraro.

    None of them, however, can boast the legislative
experience and proven vote-getting ability of Kassebaum. But if
Bush chooses the Kansas Senator, he should not expect a retiring
running mate. After she was named deputy chair of the 1988
Republican National Convention, she passed up the opening night,
preferring instead to attend a county fair in Abilene, Kans. As
she pointedly told a Wichita newspaper, "I'm happy to speak on
substantive issues. But to be treated as a bauble on the tree
is not particularly constructive, is it?"


    Where He Goes Dixie Follows? -- CARROLL CAMPBELL

    Pros: A leading force in the G.O.P. push for electoral
          supremacy in the South; a conservative with strong
          views on education.

    Cons: An unknown to most voters; little experience outside
          his state.

    Scenario: Bush needs to counter a Democratic ticket that
              includes a Southerner.


    If few Americans are familiar with the South Carolina
Governor, the President knows him well. Bush included Carroll
Campbell on his short list of vice-presidential possibilities
in 1988. Since then, the 50-year-old Governor has only enhanced
his image as a prime mover in the G.O.P. effort to push the
South more firmly into the Republican column.

    Campbell's political fortunes have been a bellwether of
the Southern white voter shift away from the Democratic Party.
In 1978 Campbell became the first Republican ever to be elected
to Congress from his state's fourth district. Eight years
later, when Democrats still outnumbered Republicans in the state
legislature 6 to 1, he became just the second Republican to be
elected Governor since Reconstruction. Though he squeaked by
with 51% of the vote, he racked up 71% last November after a
re-election campaign that pitted him against a black opponent,
state senator Theo Mitchell.

    An early and vocal supporter of Ronald Reagan, Campbell
has attempted to position himself as a nondoctrinaire
conservative. Though he sides with the right against abortion
and for school prayer, he has linked himself to issues like
education and the environment. In a state whose per pupil
expenditures rank near the bottom nationally, Campbell has
helped increase state funding for schools. He has also provided
money for public health programs to combat infant mortality.

    Campbell has known Bush since the early 1970s. A man who
can spin some of the funniest shaggy-dog stories ever heard
around a cracker barrel, he has the shoes-up-on-the-coffee-table
style that the President likes. More important for a campaigner,
he's a relaxed and confident speaker in public.

    He could still be vulnerable over lingering charges that
he exploited anti-Semitic sentiments during his 1978
congressional campaign, in which the Democratic candidate was
Jewish. Campbell angrily denies the charge, though there remain
suspicions that his unofficial campaign adviser, the late Lee
Atwater, may have done some underground Jew baiting on
Campbell's behalf. A more immediate problem for Campbell is that
he's an unknown to most voters. Then again, so was Dan Quayle
in 1988.