ONWARD TO NOVEMBER

One could almost hear shouts of "Hallelujah!"

The Democratic National Convention last week resembled nothing so much as a revivalist camp meeting, slickly managed, free of controversy and filled with love and compassion. More than 5,000 delegates and alternates milled around the crowded floor of New York's Madison Square Garden in a festive and forgiving mood. They even cheered Chicago Mayor Richard Daley and the memory of President Lyndon Johnson, both of whom not long ago were reviled symbols of the party's crippling dissensions in 1968 and 1972. Then, in a genuine spirit of unity, the delegates garlanded Jimmy Carter with the Democratic presidential nomination. While proclaimed dull because of its lack of suspense, the convention was highly significant. In Carter's now famous metaphor of faith, it saw the Democratic Party reborn. For the first time in more than a decade, it seemed possible that the old coalition of labor, the South and the blacks could be reconstituted.

Exulted Democratic National Committee Chairman Robert Strauss: "The state of our party is very good--organized, vibrant, forward-looking and hell-bent on victory." Said Douglas Fraser, a liberal United Auto Workers vice president who originally backed Morris Udall for the nomination: "It's a thirst for victory that we have, and we don't want to put that possibility in jeopardy." Added Daley: "We've been fighting too long and losing too long. Now we've got a great candidate who can win."

For Carter, the convention marked a new climax in a remarkable political ascent (just three years ago, when he was Governor of Georgia, panelists had failed to recognize him on What's My Line?). It also served to position him, more sharply than he had been perceived before, as a liberal. He did so by choosing Minnesota Senator Walter ("Fritz") Mondale as his running mate and by using the themes he struck in his acceptance speech.

Delivered in the soft and soothing Carter manner, the speech contained nothing of substance that he had not said before, but the wording was more emphatic and the setting, of course, national. Thus he struck many as a bit further to the left than he had been, though he is still some way from the party's McGovern wing. He promised the poor that he would seek jobs for "anyone able to work"--a traditional enough Democratic pledge. Carter also sounded several populist notes that jolted many voters and undoubtedly will change their perceptions of him. He spoke of a "political and economic elite" that can "always manage to occupy niches of special influence and privilege." He decried "unholy, self-perpetuating alliances [that] have been formed between money and politics." And he declared that he could "see no reason why big-shot crooks should go free and the poor ones go to jail." By way of balance he asserted that "Democrats believe that competition is preferable to regulation," called for "minimal intrusions of government in our free economic system" and urged "swift arrest and trial" for lawbreakers.

As Carter had hoped, his speech rallied liberal doubters in his own party. He later explained: "The speech, not inadvertently, shifted back and forth between liberal and conservative. But it was populist in tone, at least I intended it to be." Asked if he regarded himself as a populist, he replied: "I think so."

Whether he can stay with this same liberal line in appealing to the country at large is a big question of his campaign. It may be a campaign of the spirit centering on the character of Jimmy Carter; but it may also become a far more ideological campaign than was apparent in the primaries.

As the delegates leaped to their feet and enthusiastically cheered at the end of the 36-minute speech, the party's leading liberals and Carter's defeated primary opponents crowded around him. They included Hubert Humphrey, George McGovern, Henry Jackson, Morris Udall and Jerry Brown, all of whom have promised to work on his behalf. He is now the favorite to win the election in November, whether his Republican opponent is Gerald Ford or Ronald Reagan.

But, as the euphoria of the convention gives way to planning for the campaign guns of August, Carter is well aware of the dangers of "Deweyitis"--the same kind of overconfidence that contributed greatly to Republican Nominee Thomas E. Dewey's loss to Harry Truman in 1948. Said Campaign Consultant Mark Shields: "If Carter loses, it will be because he beat himself."

All week Carter repeatedly warned Democrats that "if we should take a single state, a single voter for granted, that would be a good way to lose." He went to the convention with leads in the Gallup poll of 17 points over Ford and 36 points over Reagan. The margin will probably narrow rapidly when the campaign accelerates after the Republican convention on Aug. 18.

Whoever is nominated, the Republicans will attack Carter and Mondale as wrongheadedly wed to big government and big spending. Ford criticized the Democrats for trying "to be all things to all people." Reagan looked forward to "the same old ideological battle" between liberals and conservatives.

Of the two, Ford would seem to have been helped more by Carter's move to the liberal side last week. The shift may turn off moderate independent voters; if so, they probably would be more willing to switch to Ford than to Reagan, thus strengthening Ford's argument that he is the more electable Republican candidate. Moreover, Carter Campaign Manager Hamilton Jordan believes that Ford could make more skillful use of the powers of incumbency in the general election than he has in the primaries. But Ford is greatly handicapped by his pardon of Richard Nixon and his lackluster campaign style. By contrast, Reagan is a superb campaigner and TV performer, though his base of support is narrow and he turns off many moderates by his extreme positions on foreign affairs and some other issues.

Carter's campaign strategy will be much the same against either Ford or Reagan. If the Republicans stick with the President, Carter intends to charge that he is an entrenched member of the Washington establishment and an ill-equipped leader. If the G.O.P. picks Reagan, Carter will attack him as a potentially dangerous extremist. For the most part, however, his chief emphasis will be on setting forth his positions on the issues and on spreading the gospel according to Carter: love, compassion and integrity.

Carefully husbanding the $25 million campaign war chest that the law permits him, Carter will spend most of his time until Labor Day at his home in Plains, planning policies and building up his campaign staff, which will continue to be headed by Jordan and Press Secretary Jody Powell. Carter is worried about overexposure, but he will make several major speeches, hoping to burnish his public image so that he will appear more like a potential President. In a recent Gallup poll, he won a "highly favorable" reaction from only 25% of those questioned, compared with 22% each for Ford and Reagan. That contrasts with 47% for Dwight Eisenhower in 1952, 41% for John Kennedy in 1960, 59% for Lyndon Johnson in 1964 and 28% for Richard Nixon in 1968, all at about the same point in their campaigns. While the current ratings would seem to indicate that the country is turned off by politicians, Jordan believes that Carter's problem is chiefly his "soft" or blurred image.

To sharpen it, Carter plans to issue many position papers on issues such as urban problems, the economy and the plight of minorities. He will also emphasize the same issues used in the primaries--tax and welfare reform and Government reorganization--though he probably will divulge few new details to keep himself from becoming an easy target for Republicans.

The Carter strategy calls for him to spend much of his personal campaigning after Labor Day in a baker's-dozen large, pivotal states with a total of 291 of the 538 electoral votes: California, Florida, Illinois, Indiana, Maryland, Michigan, Missouri, New Jersey, New York, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Texas and Wisconsin. Considerably less effort will be made in 14 states in which Carter's aides anticipate almost certain victories; at this point, they foresee defeat in only six states, with a total of 27 electoral votes: Arizona, Idaho, Kansas, Utah, Vermont and Wyoming.

Of all the regions, Carter is in best shape in the South, which has not had one of its own in the White House since Tennessee's Andrew Johnson in 1865-69. Cracked his friend and adviser Charles Kirbo, with considerable hyperbole: "Jimmy's got the black vote. He's got the rednecks. Ain't nobody else."

Carter's campaign is weakest in the West, where he is not well known and where he suffered painful defeats in some of the final primaries. Democratic leaders in the region intend to campaign for him, but with some initial reservations. Said San Francisco Mayor George Moscone: "I'm going to work my ass off for him, but like everybody else, I don't know that much about him." Added Colorado Governor Richard Lamm, a liberal: "I tend to see blood, sweat and toil issues. I don't know what Carter thinks about them--if he does at all."

But there is no real danger that West Coast Democrats will defect or stay home in November. Said California Democratic National Committeeman Steve Reinhardt: "We're warming up to him slowly. But it's a lot easier to get excited about Carter while listening to Ford or Reagan than listening to Carter."

Among the delegates who actually saw Carter close up in New York last week, most skeptics seemed ready to be converted. Still, significant numbers of Democrats are lukewarm about him and cannot be taken for granted. Several of Carter's key primary victories were achieved with about one-third of the vote, and many of the others were against weak opposition. In a sense, Carter won by a decision, not a knockout, after staggering through the final rounds.

Chief among the soft spots in Carter's support are still the liberals, though many were buoyed by his acceptance speech and choice of Mondale. According to Linda Davidoff, a leader of the New Democratic Coalition in New York, many liberal Democratic voters needed some sign from Carter to ensure that they would participate in the election.

Said she: "No sign, no work; maybe even no vote.

Now they have that sign."

Some liberal leaders, however, are still wary about Carter. Said Joseph Rauh, former chairman of Americans for Democratic Action: "The question in my mind is whether the choice of Mondale means a turn to the left or is simply a sop to liberals." Added Tom Hayden, a leader of the antiwar demonstrations at the 1968 Democratic Convention in Chicago: "Carter represents the flip side of Democratic division. Once there was the war. Now there is bland euphoria. Some liberals have great expectations, but he could just try to restore trust by soothing without delivering."

Such suspicions add fuel to the independent candidacy of former Minnesota Senator Eugene McCarthy, who so far has qualified to be on the ballot in ten states and hopes to be running in 45 states by November. Is McCarthy worried about throwing the election to the Republicans? Says he: "To spoil the difference between Jerry Ford and Jimmy Carter is not spoiling very much. I hope to make Carter's problems with the liberals worse." Surveys by Louis Harris and Carter's pollster Pat Caddell have found that, in some states, McCarthy could cost Carter between 5% and 10% of the voters--mostly students, suburban liberals and Catholic blue-collar workers. Such a drain would greatly help the Republican nominee in states where the race is close. Still, as the Carter campaign picks up momentum, Democrats and Republicans alike expect the McCarthy threat to fade. Said an official at the Republican National Committee: "If the 10% were true, I'd be the first to send McCarthy a contribution. But I think it's too high. Lightning isn't going to strike."

Carter also has to build up his support among blue-collar ethnics and Catholics, who make up about a quarter of the electorate. Catholics traditionally vote Democratic, but many of them are suspicious of Carter, as was reflected in his poor primary showings in heavily Catholic Maryland, Massachusetts, New Jersey, New York and Rhode Island. The church hierarchy and many lay Catholics are offended by Carter's middle-of-the-road stand on abortion. He opposes it, but refuses to back a constitutional amendment banning abortion because he believes that women have a legal right to decide for themselves. Last week about a dozen Catholic leaders, including Terence Cardinal Cook of New York and John Cardinal Cody of Chicago, wrote to protest the Democratic platform plank on abortion, which is almost identical to Carter's position.

In addition, his Southern Baptist evangelicalism turns off many working-class urban voters. This is acknowledged by Georgia Congressman Andrew Young, a key adviser. Said Young: "Nobody in the Carter camp now knows Milwaukee, Flint and Hoboken." Most of these voters are Catholics, but as Jordan observes, Carter's problem with them is more cultural than religious. Many urban ethnics are obviously suspicious of rural Southerners, particularly one who is overwhelmingly supported by blacks. Explained John DeLuca, former deputy mayor of San Francisco: "Part of it is his accent, and part of it is the fact that he wears his religion on his sleeve. That makes a lot of people uneasy." Said Michael Novak, a Catholic theologian and insightful analyst of U.S. politics: "It makes him come across as too pious, the good kid on the playground. There's no sex appeal in that." Wrote Columnist Jim Miller in the Brooklyn church weekly the Tablet: "It is a whole cultural style and delivery that is foreign to people who are not rural, Southern fundamentalists. Ford is a known factor who does not threaten [Catholics] culturally.''

The ethnic resistance to Carter, however, may well turn out to be an overexaggerated fear; in the end, most ethnics will probably stay in the Democratic fold. Predicted Sal Venezia, a city official in Catholic East Boston: "We've had enough of Republicans, regardless of who the Democratic nominee is." Added Joseph Mayer, a Philadelphia plumber: "This Southern Baptist thing is overblown. Some of my best customers are Baptists." But Carter is taking no chances. He plans to take steps to smooth over relations with the church hierarchy and hopes to improve his showing among urban Catholics and ethnics by stressing issues that concern them, such as unemployment and health care.

Carter is in better shape with other Democratic voting blocs. During the convention, he defused potential problems with feminists by assuring them that women would play a prominent role in his campaign and, if elected, in his Administration. Two aides, Harriet Zimmerman of Atlanta and David Berg of Houston, met with Jewish delegates to try to ease any remaining doubts. Carter disarmed Hispanic delegates by greeting them in slightly halting Spanish and telling them: "When I get into the White House, I can assure you that you will have a friend there."

If he does indeed win, the general directions of a Carter Administration seem clear.

His main goal would be to reorganize the Federal Government, sharply reducing and consolidating the number of federal agencies and departments, in hopes of making the bureaucracy more efficient and responsive. He would wait at least a year before tackling this, taking the time to study the gargantuan Government structure. But right now task forces are at work figuring out how to streamline Government. He also plans to have the Federal Government pay more of the cost of welfare, enact national health insurance covering all Americans and reform the federal tax structure (though he has been maddeningly vague about details). How he can accomplish all this and at the same time reduce the size of Government, as he has implied he would, remains a major puzzle.

As for possible Cabinet appointments, predicts Andrew Young, "there will be a lot of surprises," because Carter "likes to do things boldly." As Governor, Carter usually reached outside the circle of close supporters to fill important posts, and he probably would do so again as President. Tension with the Democratic Congress will be inevitable, largely because Senators and Representatives are not likely to become less assertive in such areas as budget making and foreign policy, not even if a member of their own party is in the White House. But Young expects Carter's folksy style to smooth out many problems. Explained Young: "He's a charmer. He will have folks in and out of that White House like it was the corner store." ,

Of course, there is still the matter of Nov. 2. Carter's more immediate task is to persuade Americans that he can pull the nation together and is worthy of being President. By skillfully mobilizing the Democrats at the convention, he made a big step in that direction, but he has a lot of road still to travel.

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