On Abortion, the Bishops v. the Deacon

The first week of the election campaign was dominated by a delicate, emotionally charged issue that scarcely fitted into presidential politics. The issue was abortion. Almost everywhere that Jimmy Carter went, small but disruptive bands of right to lifers trailed him, hectoring the Democrat because he refuses to support a constitutional amendment outlawing such operations. Meanwhile, President Ford invited six Catholic bishops into the White House and, in a 72-min. meeting, reiterated his support for a constitutional amendment that would allow each state to decide whether or not to ban abortion; Carter opposes this states' rights option too. Later, the White House announced that Ford had ordered a study of how to cut abortions paid for by Medicaid, military or other Government funds.

Clear Signal. The bishops said that they were "encouraged" by Ford, while they had been "disappointed" by Carter, who had invited them in a week before. There was, however, still room for improvement in Ford's position. Declared Archbishop Joseph Bernardin, president of the National Conference of Catholic Bishops: "Saying we are encouraged is not to say that we are totally satisfied. We feel there are better approaches than states' rights."

Though muted, the bishops' statement was a clear signal of support for Ford. That would not cut deeply with many Catholics: the polls show that a majority of them oppose a constitutional amendment on abortion. But the bishops' statement might well make a difference with some of the urban, blue-collar, largely Catholic voters in the industrial states who are soft on Carter for other reasons, including his Southern Baptist evangelicalism. The abortion dispute could also profoundly influence the other right to lifers, many of whom are non-Catholics. Though they include fundamentalists, Orthodox Jews, Mormons and others, they are a small minority in the nation. But, like the gun enthusiasts, they are passionately interested in one issue, and they seem intent on voting against anyone who does not agree with them. Indeed, in such crucial, closely contested states as Illinois, Ohio and Missouri, the right to lifers are already mounting massive drives to get out the vote on Nov. 2.

Time and time again as he swung through 17 cities in ten states last week, Carter was confronted with truculent antiabortionists who hurled epithets and waved angry signs. Sample: ABORT CARTER and CARTER SUPPORTS MURDER OF UNBORN BABIES.

The worst encounter occurred in Scranton, Pa., when Carter stepped out of his car expecting to greet a friendly crowd. Instead, he was suddenly swallowed up in a stormy sea of right to lifers fiercely chanting: "Life! Life! Life!" Carter's startled Secret Service contingent cut a path to the hotel door and hustled the candidate inside.

Next day in Pittsburgh, Carter fared better. As he passed by the Immaculate Heart of Mary Church in the Polish Hill district, he was met by smiling, flag-waving parochial school youngsters. Clad in a T shirt emblazoned POLISH HILL, the candidate bowed as he was bussed on both cheeks by a parish priest--a gesture that may be worth 1,000 angry placards. Some bystanders admitted they were unhappy with Carter's stand on abortion, but they still intended to vote for him. "You have to look at everything as a whole," said one woman. "You can't just pick out one thing and say, Tm not going to vote for him because of that.' "

Sympathy Backlash. This attitude confirmed Carter's belief that he can reach Catholic voters over the heads of the hierarchy. Under the bishops' pressure a week ago, Carter had wavered and suggested that he might support some future amendment limiting abortion. Last week, however, he said that he "certainly would not change my position to try to get votes."

Indeed, his aides reckon that there may be a sympathy backlash among voters who resent the right to lifers riding Carter so hard. Moreover, many people, including Catholics, might well feel that the church hierarchy has every right to discipline the ethics of its own faithful, but not those of people with other faiths and principles.

But Carter did shift on the broader area of the economy and spending, moving closer to the ideological middle, where he had begun his primary fight. Aides were worried that his image had become too liberal since his populist-leaning acceptance speech and his courtship of his party's left wing. His wife Rosalynn. Press Secretary Jody Powell, Political Counselor Charles Kirbo and others had urged him to return to the theme of fiscal responsibility and the need to fight inflation.

The challenger took their advice when he kicked off his campaign at Warm Springs. Ga., Franklin Roosevelt's favorite vacation spot. While he compared himself to F.D.R. and Ford to Herbert Hoover, he coupled his call for some new social programs with a pledge of "tough management and careful planning, leading to a balanced budget."

When he went north to ethnic areas, he continued to stress fiscal and social prudence. Though he avoided the "ethnic purity" phrase that got him into trouble in the primaries, he vowed to maintain the "heritage of ethnic neighborhoods," which made much the same point in less inflammatory words.

Signing Bills. Ford also made the ethnic pitch, receiving Polish-American leaders in the White House and sending Wife Betty to a Lithuanian folk festival in Chicago. But, in contrast to Carter, the President tried to give the impression of moving very little, either physically or ideologically. Staying in the White House, he was at pains to show that he knew where he stood and that his experience could be counted on. He was determined to convey a presidential aura--and he did so again and again, turning normally private ceremonies into carefully orchestrated public affairs before the TV cameras.

A desk and chair were set up in the Rose Garden, and out marched the President to sign a bill providing $200 million in compensation for the victims of the dam disaster in Idaho last June. An hour later, another White House door opened, and Ford emerged from another camera angle to sign still another bill: a $240 million appropriation for day-care centers. This gave him the opportunity to explain why he had vetoed an earlier day-care bill and, by implication, why he had vetoed 55 measures in two years. "It is a better bill because my veto exercised a balancing influence on the deliberations of Congress." He had used this "constitutional check and balance" with one concern in mind: "To protect the American people from unrealistic responses to their very real needs."

Ford also played up the presidential role in foreign policy, casting even Henry Kissinger into the shade. Showing up grim and unsmiling in the White House briefing room, he castigated the Vietnamese Communists for being "callous and cruel." Of the 795 U.S. servicemen listed as missing in action in Southeast Asia, Hanoi had released the names of only twelve who had been killed. Ford pledged that until all the M.I.A.s were accounted for, there would be no normalization of relations with Viet Nam and suggested that the U.S. would continue to veto the admission of Viet Nam to the United Nations. He also responded to a charge by Carter that the widespread sale of U.S. arms is "as cynical as it is dangerous." Ford replied that most American weaponry is sold to Israel and Iran. "I assume he is not proposing to cut off Israel."

After meeting with his Cabinet and Vice-Presidential Candidate Robert Dole, Ford made clear that he--not Kissinger--would determine the next step in U.S. efforts to mediate between whites and blacks in southern Africa. Said Ford: "I will decide whether further progress can be made through a visit by Secretary Kissinger to Africa." Later, the White House announced that Kissinger would again go to Africa this week.

Extra Mileage. Obviously, the President got a big bang for no bucks in last week's campaigning. By staying put in the White House, he was given the mileage he needed at no cost to his campaign committee. Carter, meanwhile, spent more than $200,000 on his extensive travels, including trips in his chartered jet, dubbed "Peanut 1." Some Republicans, including Dole, wonder whether it is enough for Ford to be presidential; they want him to get out to the people often and soon --rather than later, as planned. But last week, at least, Ford lost no ground, while Carter--on the move and on the defensive--seemed to have slipped a couple of notches.

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