More Blood in the G.O.P.'s Donnybrook

Endless meetings. Panic. Conflicting advice on strategy. Confusion and disarray. That was the situation in Gerald Ford's White House as he faced the primary in Michigan this week, to be followed by elections next week in six Southern and Western states that are mostly bastions of strength for Ronald Reagan.

"I have spent most of my life in Michigan," said Ford, as he stepped off the plane in Detroit last week. If that was one of the most superfluous remarks the President ever made, it was also a sign of his desperation. He was pleading plaintively, almost pathetically for the home folks' support in what could be the most crucial contest so far in his political career. After a string of five primary losses to Reagan, climaxed by a defeat in Nebraska last week, he needs a victory in Michigan as well as Maryland to slow the challenger's momentum and narrow his 468-318 lead in committed delegates (see chart). A loss at home might not be fatal to the President's chances, but it would be crippling and humiliating.

Imitating Harry Truman, Ford whistle-stopped by railroad through Michigan over the weekend. But unlike "Give 'Em Hell" Harry, he did not turn his listeners on much. His style was reassuring but plodding and predictable. Sometimes defending his record, sometimes sounding almost as anti-Washington as Jimmy Carter, the President often seemed to say the right thing the wrong way. Earlier, at a shopping center in a Detroit suburb, the audience started to drift off as soon as he began talking.

He appealed to "every person registered in this state to vote for me, whether they call themselves Democrats, Republicans or independents." He was especially anxious about the kind of cross-over vote that sealed his defeats in Texas and Indiana. In 1972 in Michigan, more than 800,000 people voted for George Wallace; Ford hoped to deter them from swinging to Reagan. Said he: "We must win in Michigan."

Easy Jokes. Reagan was better at striking sparks. Displaying increasing confidence and elan, he campaigned in Kentucky and Idaho before moving on to Michigan. The jokes came easily. Asked for the umpteenth time about his position on the Panama Canal, he quipped: "If they don't watch out, I'll come out and start defending the Erie Canal." In keeping with his levity, his accompanying son Ron Jr., 17, sported a T shirt emblazoned with a caricature of Richard Nixon, wearing red, white and blue shoes and flashing a victory sign, and the joshing slogan "Perfectly clear--Nixon this year!"

Like the President, Reagan tried to broaden his appeal. He reminded an audience of coal miners and tobacco farmers in Kentucky: "I was a Democrat most of my adult life." He speculated on his choice of running mate, saying that the nominee would have to be "philosophically compatible." Vice President Nelson Rockefeller was not, he elaborated, but John Connally was a possibility. Reagan added that he would be glad to have Treasury Secretary William Simon in his Administration. What about Gerald Ford as Vice President? Responded Reagan: "It's been said that if you put Ford and me together in a dark room, you can't tell us apart philosophically. Well, if you turn on the light, you can." But he added that if he won in Michigan, he would not ask the President to withdraw from the race. "Ford annoyed me so much when he suggested that I withdraw, I just wouldn't do the same thing to him."

Reagan was particularly ebullient because of his upset victory in Nebraska, where he garnered 55% of the vote and 18 out of 25 delegates. This time the President could not complain that he lost because of crossovers. Only Republicans can vote in the state's G.O.P. primary. Nebraska had been considered Ford's territory, and he had led by 23 points in a poll taken two weeks before the election. But he was hurt by Reagan's tagging him a captive of "the Washington Establishment" and farmers' resentment over his embargo on grain sales to the Soviet Union from August through October. "Farm people have long memories," conceded Bill Barrett, Ford's Nebraska coordinator. Nebraskans were also moved by Reagan's assault on Administration foreign and defense policies. Observed Ford Delegate Ed Schwartzkopf: "Reagan's saying 'Hey, I'm drawing the line' is like Martin Luther's nailing the 95 theses to the door."

The challenger's Nebraska triumph overshadowed Ford's 57%-43% win in West Virginia. Neither candidate spent much time or money there. Ford, in fact, stayed out of West Virginia because of complex local politics. But he had the support of the well-oiled Republican machine. "It's amazing how much you can do with a little chewing gum and spit," boasted Steve Krouch, Ford's campaign director in the state. "You might say the campaign worked like a sales pyramid. Party leaders got on the phone to their friends, who in turn were asked to call additional party members and friends."

Whatever happens in Michigan, Ford will need all that hard sell and more next week as he confronts Reagan in Tennessee, Arkansas, Idaho, Nevada, Kentucky and Oregon, which together have 176 delegates. Reagan is considered ahead in the first four, while Ken tucky is a draw, and Ford is thought to have a slight lead in Oregon. Still a bigger contest lies ahead on June 8, Super Bowl day, when California, Ohio and New Jersey are at stake.

In a Field poll of California released last week, Reagan came out ahead of Ford among Republicans, 49% to 39%. Even if Reagan wins his state's 167 delegates in the winner-take-all primary, Ford could partly offset the loss with expected strong showings in New Jersey and Ohio that day. In that case, quite possibly neither candidate would go to the convention with enough committed delegates to ensure victory on the first ballot, and the decision would rest in the hands of the uncommitted delegates.

Of the uncommitteds selected so far, 250 are considered to be in Ford's camp, 89 in Reagan's, and 15 firmly planted in neither. Solid wins by either candidate will sway opinion and shift the numbers. Last week the New York delegation, the largest uncommitted bloc, was ruffled when 15 Brooklyn members broke ranks and declared for Reagan; three others had earlier made the same choice. Most of the remaining 136 delegates will probably respond to the wishes of Rockefeller.

He sings Ford's praises but has not yet pushed the delegation to support the President, however much he could use the lift. Rocky wants as much bargaining power as possible at the convention. His right-hand political man in New York, Republican State Chairman Richard Rosenbaum, is trying to put together a "Northeast' group" of some 300 uncommitteds from New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania and parts of New England. The group will press during the convention for planks that favor the region. But much more important is the fact that it could swing the nomination.

Rockefeller told TIME New York Bureau Chief Laurence I. Barrett last week: "I think the uncommitted delegates will have the capacity to make the decision. The President will be nominated." But what if Rocky is wrong? Would his own name be placed in nomination? Without making a flat denial, he replied: "I cannot conceive of any scenario in which that could eventuate."

Texan Connally expects to go as a delegate to the convention in August, "as uncommitted then as I am now." Last week he told TIME Atlanta Bureau Chief James Bell that the candidate will be Ford or Reagan and not some longshot third man. As for Connally himself, "I have no intention of throwing my hat anywhere, including into the ring. Frankly, in the future, I would prefer not to hold any elective or appointive office."

Uncommitteds cannot be taken for granted; they tend to be proud of their independent stand and not too easily budged. To date the pressure on them from the candidates' recruiters has been more subtle than sharp. Sherry Martschink, 26, an uncommitted delegate from South Carolina, says that local Reagan supporters are leaning on her a bit. "But it is not what I would call ugly pressure." Anticipating hard sells from supporters of both candidates, M.L. Hertzler, a Wyoming farmer, declares: "I can take it." Rich Port, a prosperous Illinois real estate executive who is uncommitted, has received dozens of calls from both sides. Just after he filed in January for election as an uncommitted delegate, he was phoned by President Ford, who urged: "Come on, get on my team." Says Port: "People who know me know you don't pressure me into anything. I'm a free-thinking entrepreneur."

Simple and Strong. So far, Ford's main flaw as a campaigner has been his inability to project a presidential image. Instead of stressing his peace-and-prosperity achievements, he has let himself be diverted into petty exchanges with Reagan. Observes Rockefeller: "Because of the pressure of events, the President has not had the time to do the kind of communicating with the American people which has to be done. We need a very simple, strong, clear exposition of each of the Administration's accomplishments. Inflation is down. Employment is up. The economic recovery is fantastic."

Some advisers fault the President for not properly coordinating his political and nonpolitical duties. Complains an aide: "Until a week or two ago, about the only communications between staffers at the White House and the Ford election committee took place on primary nights." Government agencies often seem oblivious to the needs of the campaign. Just before the Michigan primary, the Labor Department released statistics showing that Detroit had the highest unemployment rate (17.4%) of any American city in 1975. Said a top official at Labor: "I just don't understand how they came up with timing like this. If you think I'm upset, you should hear the boys at the White House."

Many of Ford's difficulties can be traced to his White House staff, which is disorganized and at least temporarily dispirited (see box). Complains a Republican who is close to Ford: "Nobody on the White House staff has ever run for anything." Adds a presidential aide: "When you get Dave Kennerly [the 29-year-old White House photographer] and Don Penny [recently hired gagwriter and speech coach] offering advice on political strategy, you've got problems."

Another problem is Ford's campaign chairman, Rogers Morton, who remarked on TV as the grim results rolled in from Nebraska: "I'm not going to rearrange the furniture on the deck of the Titanic." The genial Morton has not had conspicuous success in organizing Ford's campaign; in general, he remains the glad-handing front man while decisions are made by Political Director Stuart Spencer.

Trying to keep the campaign from becoming another Titanic, senior Ford advisers recently held an emergency summit conference. Among those attending were Republican Heavyweights Melvin Laird, Dean Burch and Bryce Harlow as well as some G.O.P. congressional leaders and two savvy fund raisers, Detroit Industrialist Max Fisher and California Businessman Leon Parma.

Basic Instincts. "Everybody got criticized," says a participant. One adviser complained that the presidential staff was "just another palace guard shielding the President from anybody who might know more than they do." The Cabinet was attacked for being "too independent" to help Ford in his hour of need. One participant griped that Carla Hills, Secretary of Housing and Urban Development, was unwilling to speak for the President because "she can't decide whether or not she is a Republican." Treasury Secretary Simon might have been useful in Michigan--then why was he traveling in South America? Laird sniped at the bad timing of Kissinger's Africa trip.

The President remained calm. He seemed to snap back from his depression after losing Nebraska. "We've got to keep our cool," he told an agitated aide. Ford could still take heart from the latest Gallup poll, completed May 3, showing that Republicans favored him 60% to 35% over Reagan. The President was putting his faith in the basic instincts of Republicans when their hands were finally on the voting lever. Wild as they may be about Reagan, most Republicans know that they will probably have a better chance of winning in November with Ford.

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