Monday, Aug. 02, 1976
Ford Is Close, but Watch Those Trojan Horses
Fifteen new votes from Hawaii. Eight from New York. Five from Virginia. One each from Delaware, Illinois, Louisiana, South Carolina. Mississippi, clinging to a unit rule, was poised to switch its 30 votes from Ronald Reagan to Gerald Ford. The President had the nomination wrapped up, with 1,135 votes, five more than needed to nominate. Reagan might accept the vice-presidential nomination and join Ford to knock out Jimmy Carter with the Republicans' strongest one-two punch.
Those were the varied, mounting claims of Ford strategists last week as the war of nerves over the uncommitted delegates to the Republican National Convention reached its greatest intensity yet. In some desperation, Reagan's camp made claims of its own. Campaign Manager John Sears,'offering no substantiation, contended that Reagan already had 1,140 delegates pinned down--ten more than needed for the nomination. ("He's blowing smoke," scoffed James Baker, Ford's chief delegate hunter.) Reagan insisted yet again there was "no way" he would accept the Veep role, but was instead working on his top-of-the-ticket acceptance speech. He challenged Ford to a debate at the Kansas City convention. Ford refused. Referring to the Ford efforts to create a stampede atmosphere, Reagan Aide David Keene declared: "If we hold it this week, the game will be over and we'll win it."
The truth was that Ford had made significant gains among the uncommitted delegates, and the nomination, however uncertainly, was within his grasp. TIME'S delegate count placed Ford's vote at 1,121--just nine short of the needed majority. Reagan had 1,078, putting him 52 short. Only 60 delegates remained uncommitted.
In a press conference at week's end, Baker claimed publicly for the first time that Ford was over the top, with 1,135 delegates favoring him on the first ballot at the convention. But that margin, which the Reagan forces continued to dispute, was hardly decisive in the fluid situation. Baker released the names of 16 delegates not previously counted by him in the Ford totals, notably 15 Hawaii delegates. Many delegate counters had already credited Ford with several of these votes. The fact that the Ford planners had not yet released the names of all their claimed delegates--as they had said earlier they might do--indicated some uncertainty in their delegate commitments.
Trojan Horses. A battle was developing in Mississippi, where signs of a backlash surfaced over the attempt to promote a Ford takeover--and at week's end a narrow majority seemed to be leaning to Reagan. "The Ford folks tried some overkill, and I think it's backfired on them," observed State Republican Chairman Clarke Reed. He accused Ford's local delegate hunters of "high-pressure tactics and lies." He said that one of them called another delegate and said, "If you don't sign on by 9 a.m., you won't be a federal judge." Warned Reed: "If I get mad. I can and might just switch some of those Ford delegates back to Reagan." Ford publicly ordered Administration officials and campaign aides not to offer anything in return for support.
While Ford's bandwagon psychology was effective, there was surprising agreement among the more candid strategists in both camps on one highly significant point. Reagan aides insisted, and Ford Political Consultant F. Clifton White conceded, that between 40 and 50 of the delegates now favoring Ford are "soft" and could conceivably defect under the convention's pressures and emotions. Admitted another Ford aide: "We've got a tougher time [than Reagan] holding our troops in line." The President's wary assistants refer to those soft votes as "closet Reaganites" or "Trojan horses."
Both sides were letting out all the stops not only to hold, but also to expand, their lines. Reagan spent no fewer than 45 minutes on a phone call that he made to uncommitted New York Delegate James White, a lawyer, who was "impressed" but finally broke off the conversation because "I couldn't think of anything else to ask him." When West Virginia's uncommitted Jody Smirl, a candidate for the state legislature, visited the White House, she told Ford she hoped to get his daughter Susan to speak at a summer Republican youth camp in her state; Ford later called her to say Susan would be delighted. Susan, who dislikes campaigning, was irked but agreed. Nancy Reagan had also phoned Mrs. Smirl, who mentioned her camp--and the Reagans lined up Actor Efrem Zimbalist Jr. to speak to the kids too.
A few of the uncommitted tried to exploit their unexpected political allure to the advantage of their home areas. Before he announced the commitment of seven more New York delegates to Ford, Edwin M. Schwenk, Republican leader of Long Island's Suffolk County, asked Ford in Washington to "throw some federal aid to our part of the woods," specifically to help ease sewage-disposal problems. Reagan Aide Lyn Nofzinger wryly complained: "Ford's going after the effluent vote."
Gentle Arm Twisting. Mostly, however, the uncommitted were content to be flattered by the candidates' attention, and they found the Ford and Reagan approaches gentlemanly. "Both sides are discreet," said North Dakota Delegate Don Shide. "It's a very courteous and very gentle arm twisting."
Ford, of course, had more to offer. He entertained 121 New Jersey delegates and alternates in the East Room last week, then about 125 New York delegates; he plans to welcome Maryland and Pennsylvania delegations this week. The New Jersey delegates enjoyed late afternoon cocktails as Ford mingled easily with them for 40 minutes. He gave a short speech, fielded questions for a full 45 minutes and got rousing applause with his blunt defense of his pardon of Richard Nixon ("I would do it again"). Not all delegates agreed with him, but they appreciated his candor. Moved by the presidential aura, Thomas Kean, New Jersey assembly Republican leader, echoed a feeling of many visiting delegates: "I always get tingles up and down my spine when I walk out of the White House door." Partially as a result of the visit, two presumed Reagan delegates indicated they were for Ford.
The words, "The President is calling," dazzled many of the uncommitted. Missouri's Marlene Zinzel, who with four other delegates had been flown to Chicago at the Reagan campaign's expense to meet the Californian for an hour, was nevertheless "shocked" when Ford tracked her down by phone at a beauty shop in Oakville, Mo. "I couldn't believe it," she recalls. "I can hardly remember it. He told me he could win over Carter. He asked if I would consider him, and I said that I would."
Soft Votes. The uncommitted commonly insist that the personal pleas of the candidates would not prove decisive. Many seem to like both men, find both acceptable, but remain uncertain of which has the better chance of beating Carter. "It's futile to go just for philosophy--you go with the winner," contended Mississippi Delegate Mike Retzer, a fast-food restaurant operator who seems to favor Ford. Explained North Dakota's Shide, a farmer: "The main factor is who is electable. The incumbent has the best chance normally--but this year everyone hates Washington." Illinois' William Scannell, a lawyer, was convinced that "Gerald Ford has done a fine job as President," but was worried because "I can't understand how Ford is in the position he's in today."
Other delegates wondered why Reagan, a better campaigner than Ford, had not caught fire with voters. Reagan was particularly hurt among the uncommitted by all the polls--Gallup, Harris, Yankelovich--placing him far behind Ford in a race against Carter. Said Louisiana Delegate Charles Dunbar III, who has switched to Ford because of the polls: "I think the public has made the decision for the delegates."
Even if Ford does top 1,130 in pre-convention counts, those many soft votes would still leave the outcome in a bit of doubt. The convention rules allow a delegate to vote for anyone he wishes, even if that person has not been nominated or the delegate is bound by his state primary election laws to vote for another candidate. The Ford forces have suggested pushing for a "justice" rule, under which delegates in the 19 states that have binding primary laws must vote for the man to whom they are pledged. Though the Reagan forces would probably not oppose such a rule on principle, some feel that they would have enough covert supporters in the convention to win a challenge over procedural matters--and might welcome such a test in hopes of securing an early psychological victory. Reagan's last best hope might well be to join--or provoke--any emotional battle to unleash whatever Trojan horses may lurk behind the President's lines.
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