The G.O.P. Gets Its Act Together

By Frank B. Merrick

After a dramatic bobble, Reagan picks the logical partner for a tough campaign

There was no question who the Republican presidential candidate would be, of course, but there was much uncertainty about what kind of candidate he would be. Would Ronald Reagan insist on a vice-presidential nominee who would appeal only to true-blue conservatives? And in accepting the Republican nomination, would he sound a trumpet call for those same conservatives, relying chiefly on the increasing strength of the right to carry him to the White House--if it could? After four days of flag waving and festivity at the G.O.P. convention in Detroit, the answer was clear. Failing in a dramatic and ill-considered maneuver to get Gerald Ford on the ticket as vice-presidential candidate, Reagan settled for the logical choice, George Bush. And in his warm and well-presented acceptance speech the following night, he cast his appeal to all classes of Americans, to blue-collar workers as well as business executives, to women, to minorities, to immigrants. To them all, he quoted the hero of liberalism, Thomas Paine, when he declared, "We have it in our power to begin the world over again."

Reagan's victory was tarnished by a stunning stumble: his unseemly, eleventh-hour attempt to make a deal with Ford. Convinced that if the former President were his running mate, the ticket would be invincible, Reagan through intermediaries appealed to Ford's loyalty to the party and to the country. The Californian even offered to share his presidential powers with the ex-President. But all to no avail. Ford in the end declined to join the ticket, and the curious episode served only to raise questions about the nominee's judgment--and how far he was willing to go to win election in November.

Despite the Ford episode, the Republicans went home from Detroit more united than they have been since the Eisenhower years. The Reagan-Bush ticket is in some ways an unlikely alliance, one made not to satisfy the hearts of Republican conservatives but to suit their new sense of pragmatism and their determination to capture the White House. Reagan embodies the hardline, return-to-old-values politics of the ideological purists who marched over the cliff with Barry Goldwater in 1964. Bush, though almost equally conservative, is an offspring of the party's Eastern Establishment, which the G.O.P. ideologues repudiated that same year. United, Reagan and Bush have a solid chance of winning in November. Their victory would help restore the Republican Party as a major force in national politics and give it a large voice in setting the direction of American society for years to come. Proclaimed Republican National Chairman Bill Brock from behind the red and white carnations on the convention podium: "This party is a new party--we are on our way up."

The Republican right wing that loyally supported Reagan was very much in control of the Detroit convention--of its machinery, its rules and its platform. The Sunbelt's polyester suits and white cowboy hats and STOP ERA buttons far outnumbered the striped ties and horn-rimmed glasses of the Northeast. Recognizing that there was no way to wrest back the control that had once been theirs, the moderates simply sat back and watched the show. Massachusetts Congressman Silvio Conte, a liberal firebrand on the platform committee at five previous conventions, backed out of serving on the panel this year. Said he: "What's the use? The numbers aren't there."

But despite the fervor of a few right-wing ideologues, who were chiefly responsible for the hard-line platform planks against abortion, the Equal Rights Amendment and school busing for racial desegregation, Reagan's convention managers and a majority of the delegates were determined to keep anyone from bolting the party as the moderates did in 1964. Most conservatives and their presidential nominee are now more tolerant of doctrinal differences within the party, and they are anxious to broaden its base. Put differently, winning is more fun than losing. Said Arizona Congressman John Rhodes, the convention's permanent chairman: "Four years ago, we had the purists against the pragmatists. This year 90% of the people here are pragmatists. It's a good omen."

No matter what their political views, virtually all Republicans at the convention were enthusiastic about their nominee. Despite the steaming Midwestern heat (97DEG F on the second day at the convention), which taxed the arena's air conditioning, the thousands of delegates, alternates and guests chanted "Viva! Ole!", sang God Bless America, danced in the aisles and blew on party horns for 15 minutes after awarding the nomination to Reagan. Said Terrance Martin, 84, a delegate from Lake Havasu City, Ariz., as he stood clapping to celebrate Reagan's nomination: "This is what I've been working for since 1920, when I got involved in the Harding campaign. This time, we've got the right man at the right time."

As Reagan made clear in his 45-min. acceptance speech, he is determined to pursue a more centrist course in the election than is suggested by the language of his platform. The speech was not filled with great content; much of it was no more than a rephrasing of his campaign positions, superficial and rhetorical. But the great strength of the speech was Reagan's relaxed but forceful delivery. Said he: "We face a disintegrating economy, a weakening defense and an energy policy based on the sharing of scarcity. The major issue of this campaign is the direct political, personal and moral responsibility of Democratic Party leadership--in the White House and in Congress--for this unprecedented calamity which has befallen us." Reagan promised to freeze federal hiring, increase U.S. defenses, cut taxes and take measures to stimulate stronger economic growth. But at the same time, he reached out to groups that might be disaffected by his conservatism. Early in his speech he pledged as President to work with the 50 Governors to "eliminate discrimination against women." At the end, his voice choked by emotion, he asked for a moment of silent prayer, then declared: "God bless America." The delegates, who had interrupted him 70 times with applause, cheers and blaring horns, leaped to their feet for a 20-minute ovation. Over and over again they sang God Bless America and This Land Is Your Land. A few even sang Boola-Boola, in honor of Yale Graduate ('48) Bush.

It was the climactic moment of the convention, which had been so carefully scripted by the Reagan forces that it was becoming a staggering bore--until the very day of his nomination. In his evening of triumph, while he was being anointed by the votes of 1,939 ecstatic supporters,* he came perilously close to making what could have been a major mistake. Determined to strengthen his candidacy by achieving what many Republicans began to call their "dream ticket," Reagan made a last-gasp effort to persuade his 1976 rival, former President Gerald Ford, to become his running mate. Nevada Senator Paul Laxalt, Reagan's close friend and campaign chairman, summed up the reason in an interview with TIME: "Our polls show that every prospective bride is a drag on the ticket, except Jerry Ford. That would be a political marriage made in heaven."

But Ford remembers all too well the frustrations of the Vice President's office, in which he served for nine months under Richard Nixon, and the stipulations needed to make the job attractive to him proved too great. It amounted in the end to an unprecedented plan that would have given Ford sweeping authority over the budget, foreign affairs and domestic policy (see following story). Only when his negotiations with Ford failed did Reagan put aside his personal dislike of Bush and tap him for the job. Bush has no grandiose illusions about his role if the G.O.P. ticket wins in November. He told TIME the day before his selection: "Everyone says they are going to reinvent the wheel, that their Vice President is going to be in on developing North-South strategy and other great projects. But it never happens. Two years later, you wake up and find he's still going to funerals."

In making his first major decision as nominee, Reagan wounded himself twice: first, by demonstrating that he is so anxious to win in November that he was willing to consider delegation of important aspects of his authority as President; second, by having to settle for his No. 2 choice as running mate. Even more embarrassing for him was the fact that the negotiations about Ford quickly leaked, turning that part of the prepackaged convention into an unseemly spectacle.

The risk, moreover, may not have been worth taking. Ford, after all, was the first incumbent President since Herbert Hoover to lose an election, and part of his appeal today is due to nostalgia. In hindsight, particularly because of Carter's shortcomings, Ford seems to have been a better President than he was considered at the time. But he is at odds with Reagan on many questions ranging from the ERA to the Panama Canal. At 67, he could offer the 69-year-old Reagan no help on the age issue; some voters might even have found a Reagan-Ford ticket slightly out of tune with the G.O.P. convention slogan: TOGETHER--A NEW BEGINNING. With Bush, 56, as Reagan's running mate, the G.O.P. ticket may not be so grand, but it is also not so old.

Democrats immediately moved to turn the episode into an issue. Said Democratic National Chairman John White: "It was a massive foul-up, and it's going to hurt him deeply. It raises all kinds of questions about Reagan as a decision maker." But some more neutral political experts thought the contretemps would quickly fade. Said Jonathan Moore, director of Harvard's Institute of Politics: "I don't believe that it will make any difference come November. It is not an issue that will last."

So it was almost by default that the Republicans ended up with what many of them most wanted: a ticket that can be accepted by a broad spectrum, from North Carolina Senator Jesse Helms on the right to New York Senator Jacob Javits on the left. Bush's views on most issues are compatible with Reagan's, yet Bush has a more moderate image than that of the Californian. As a two-term Congressman and former head of the CIA, Bush also brings the ticket much needed experience in Washington, which polls indicate is a major shortcoming for Reagan in the eyes of many voters.

Bush will strengthen the ticket in several large states, including Illinois, Ohio and his home state of Texas. Bush will also give Reagan much needed help in three swing states that G.O.P. strategists consider very important but difficult for their candidates to carry: Michigan and Pennsylvania, where Bush defeated Reagan in the primaries, and New Jersey. All six states are elements in what Reagan's aides call his "redundancy" strategy. This means that Reagan will campaign hard in more states than he needs to win the election--in contrast to Ford's 1976 "big-state" strategy, in which he conceded the cotton South to Carter, made only a pass at the Border states and concentrated on the Midwest, a tactic that may have cost him the election.

Reagan is counting on his own appeal to help him hold on to the West; in fact, there is little chance at the moment that Carter will win much west of the Mississippi. Reagan even has a good chance of making inroads into some former Carter strongholds in the South, such as Louisiana and Mississippi. Republican strategists anticipate doing badly in only one region of the country: the Northeast. Even there Reagan may pick up some electoral votes because of Independent John Anderson. G.O.P. polls now show Anderson siphoning more votes from Carter than from Reagan. Anderson, according to these polls, is actually leading at the moment in four states, including New Jersey and Massachusetts, though most Reagan strategists expect this lead to fade by Election Day.

To win the key industrial states, Reagan will have to attract blue-collar voters, who have traditionally been Democrats, as well as independents. This means that he has to break out of his narrow position as a minority-party candidate. Like Carter, he will have to seize the middle. This task is not as hard now as it would have been four years ago. The country has moved toward Reagan's views, but Reagan still needs to move more toward the country's views. His acceptance speech was a strong and very calculated step in this direction.

But Reagan considers his most potent issue to be Carter's weak, vacillating leadership at home and abroad. Says Party Chairman Brock: "If the election focuses on Carter and his record, Carter will lose." Most political experts forecast a bitter campaign with both candidates trying to make each other the chief issue. In an interview with TIME, Texan John Connally predicted: "It will be a campaign of attack, and I think it will wind up very mean. Carter will portray Reagan as a man of little knowledge and less judgment. The Carter people will try to scare the American people about Reagan."

This, in fact, is precisely what Hamilton Jordan, Carter's closest aide, has proposed in a secret memo to the President. Carter is expected to portray Reagan as a Red-baiting, trigger-happy right-winger who would be dangerous in the White House. But Connally professes not to be greatly worried about how Reagan will hold up. Says Connally: "I suspect that Reagan is smarter than any of us think he is. I didn't think it would carry him through the primaries, but it did. He communicates with his constituents, and they fill in the blanks. He leaves a thought with people that they can flesh out."

Hardly had Reagan received the nomination when Carter sharply attacked him and his party. During a swing through Florida, the President denounced the Republicans as "men of narrow vision who are afraid of the future and whose leaders are inclined to shoot from the hip." Carter recalled that the Republicans "brought us the disgrace of Watergate," though Reagan can hardly be blamed for that. As the campaign heats up, Carter also is expected to make aggressive use of the hard-line G.O.P. platform, particularly its abandonment of support for the ERA, its call for achieving unquestioned military "superiority" over the Soviets, and other right-wing planks. In Reagan's defense, G.O.P. leaders argue that the platform reflects the views of the party's ideologues, who tend to congregate at conventions, and not necessarily Reagan's own thinking. Pennsylvania Governor Richard Thornburgh described the platform as "to the right of a convention that I believe is to the right of the candidate. 1980 is not an ideological year."

The platform is indeed to the right of Reagan on some major issues. It calls for the U.S. to become militarily superior to the Soviets, which would repudiate the policy of the Nixon, Ford and Carter Administrations in trying to maintain East-West parity. But Reagan has merely urged increased military spending.

Despite Reagan's own polls, which show him with a 15-point lead over Carter, his strategists are urging him to run as if he were an underdog. Reagan, who invented the 11th Commandment, "Thou shall not criticize other Republicans," now speaks of a 12th Commandment, "Thou shalt not be overconfident." One reason for the caution is the fear among Reagan's associates that he will make a critical mistake--in the No. 1 cliche of the Reagan camp, "shoot himself in the foot." In addition, Reagan and his aides fully recognize Carter's power as an incumbent. They expect him to pull what they call "the October surprise," meaning that shortly before Election Day, he will inflate the importance of some overseas event in an attempt to rally the country around him. Beyond this, Reagan will have to convince Americans that he would be a better President than Carter, that he really could achieve more. Reagan will have to go into more detail on his positions and, under close scrutiny, will have to explain just how he would carry them out. Even Gerald Ford, at breakfast with the editors of TIME, said: "I think that we ought to assume that his chances are less than fifty-fifty."

Reagan's strategists believe the turning point of the campaign could be the three debates planned by the League of Women Voters during the weeks of Sept. 7, Sept. 21 and Oct. 26. Despite Carter's more agile mind and mastery of detail, Reagan's aides expect him to do well in the debates; they believe Reagan would have lost the New Hampshire primary without a debate. Observed Brock: "Reagan has this remarkable ability to project decency, a sense of knowing where he is and where he is going. People relate to him. It's a talent that few people have." Said an aide: "The fact that he's not a dangerous personality bleeds through."

Reagan's unaccustomed role as a healer of political divisions was much in evidence at the convention. After a dozen years of ardently wooing the party, he had the nomination in his grasp, and he was not about to let the party splinter as it did in 1964. During the primary campaign, Reagan complained to reporters that they were incorrectly perpetuating "the notion that [in his films] I never got the girl in the end. In fact, I was usually the steady, sincere suitor--the one the girl finally turned to."

Thus when the G.O.P. turned to him at last, Reagan cautiously avoided Goldwater's mistake of coming on too strong. Instead of extremism, Reagan seemed to be telling the faithful, It is pragmatism that is no vice. At his request, the far-right spokesmen held down their rhetoric. Anti-ERA Leader Phyllis Schlafly was very quiet, unusually so. Fundamentalist Preacher Jerry Falwell, whose Moral Majority organization has registered 2 million new voters, made no ringing speeches. Even former Secretary of State Henry Kissinger, who is anathema to the extreme right, was welcomed with applause when he appeared on the podium. This time, said Pennsylvania's Thornburgh, the Republicans have no desire to "leave the battlefield littered with the wounded from an ideological tong war."

The convention opened with an outpouring of oratory and patriotic pageantry. Pat Boone led the Pledge of Allegiance. Glen Campbell and Tanya Tucker (whose living arrangements might not please pro-family delegates) sang the national anthem. Billy Graham gave the first evening's invocation. Then the speakers got down to the main order of business: indicting Jimmy Carter for weak leadership, bad judgment and general ineptitude. William Simon, who was Treasury Secretary in the Nixon and Ford Administrations, blamed Carter for high inflation, high interest rates and high unemployment. Said Simon: "Surely, this Administration will go down in history as the worst stewards of the American economy in our lifetime."

The most blistering attack--and the best received by the delegates on opening night--came from Gerald Ford, who accused Carter of having "sold America short" and of having "given up on the presidency." Ford clearly relished getting even with Carter for having attacked Ford in 1976 because of what Carter dubbed the "misery index"--the sum of the inflation and unemployment rates. It was then 12%. Said Ford: "Just two months ago, it was 24%--twice as high. That's twice as many reasons that Jimmy Carter has got to go." Continued Ford: "You've all heard Carter's alibis: inflation cannot be controlled. The world has changed. We can no longer protect our diplomats in foreign capitals, nor our workingmen on Detroit's assembly lines. We must lower our expectations. We must be realistic. We must prudently retreat. Baloney!"

To keep the convention flowing smoothly, Reagan's floor manager, Illinois Congressman Bob Michel, and Reagan's convention director, William Timmons, worked behind the scenes, massaging disgruntled conservatives and moderates to keep them from violating the theme of unity. Said Connally, who watched the proceedings from the galleries: "The word went out that everyone ought to be courteous, reasonable. Underlying it all was the sobriety of success." The word was passed by 17 Reagan whips, wearing red and white hats. Reagan stalwarts recognized those hats as the same kind that Ford's forces, who were also led by Timmons, wore when they beat back Reagan's challenge on the floor of the 1976 convention in Kansas City, Mo. Groused North Carolina Delegate Tom Ellis: "They didn't even have to buy new hats. They're the same hats with the same bodies that were against us four years ago."

The Reagan whips blocked a move by far-right forces, organized by Howard Phillips, national director of the Conservative Caucus, to keep Kissinger from addressing the convention. Said Phillips: "We hope that Ronald Reagan will not be the third President to work for Henry Kissinger." (Kissinger insisted that he had no such aspirations. Said he: "I am not here as a job seeker.") Similarly, the Reagan lieutenants vetoed moderate moves that might discomfit conservatives. Thus when New York Republican National Committeeman Richard Rosenbaum urged convention managers to schedule a brief tribute to Nelson Rockefeller ("We have to make room for decency in politics"), he was rebuffed. Reagan's advisers reasoned that a tribute to Rockefeller, even though he is dead, might reopen the bitter ideological quarrel of 1964.

Despite many moderate Republicans' anger over several hard-line platform planks, all efforts to amend them were squelched. To protest the platform's repudiation of the ERA, some 4,500 women (and a few men) marched through downtown Detroit as a sidewalk band mockingly played I Want a Girl Just Like the Girl That Married Dear Old Dad. But when John Leopold, a member of the Hawaii delegation, proposed from the floor that the platform be reconsidered, he failed to stir support from any delegation.

Illinois Senator Charles Percy suffered an even tougher defeat at the hands of his own state's delegation. He took vigorous exception to the platform's judiciary plank, which proposes that only people who oppose abortion should be appointed federal judges. "The worst plank that has ever been in a platform," railed Percy at a special caucus of the Illinois delegation. But at a Reagan lieutenant's request, two Illinois delegates were prepared to deflect Percy's challenge. The delegation voted by 75 to 27 to table Percy's motion.

With dissent stifled on the floor Reagan cound afford to spend the second day of the convention soothing hurt feelings. He met in the morning with 17 women, including his daughter Maureen, 39, who describes herself as a feminist. He promised to seek out women for high appointive office and work to repeal state and federal laws that discriminate against women. Said former G.O.P. National Chairman Mary Louise Smith, an ERA supporter: "We came away feeling good."

Reagan made a gesture toward blacks, who have given him little support in the past, by appearing at a reception for the 56 black delegates and 78 black alternates (in 1976 the party had 76 black delegates). He told them that he opposes Democratic proposals for helping minorities with "more handouts and Government grants" because they are simply another kind of welfare--"insulting and demeaning, another kind of bondage." His listeners applauded, though they were not entirely won over.

Reagan intervened personally with convention officials to enable NAACP Executive Director Benjamin Hooks to speak at the convention that evening, but only after Hooks promised to say nothing that might embarrass the Republicans. Hooks urged the Republicans to work for full employment, low-cost public transportation and an extension of the Voting Rights Act, which is to expire in 1982. His plea was politely received by the delegates--again on instructions from Reagan's floor lieutenants.

The delegates needed no such prompting when Nancy Reagan appeared in the gallery for the first time, or when Barry Goldwater, looking frail after a hip operation, approached the microphones to reminisce about 1964. When the delegates' roars of "We want Barry" subsided, he quipped: "Thank you, folks. Can I accept the nomination?" John Connally also drew enthusiastic cheers and applause by quoting Senator Edward Kennedy's caustic comments on Carter's economic and foreign policies. Said Connally: "We agree with Senator Kennedy that we need a new President." New York Congressman Jack Kemp, a leading proponent of the deep tax cuts that Reagan is urging, drew an equally rousing reception when he predicted a "tidal wave" Republican victory in November.

The final speaker of the evening was Henry Kissinger. He had met earlier in the day with Reagan, who sought to smooth over their differences in an effort to build a bridge to the foreign policy establishment. After the session, Kissinger said: "I felt that the Governor's position, as it was explained to me, was one that I find compatible with my own." In his speech that evening, Kissinger warmly described Reagan as the "trustee of our hopes" for relief from the Carter Administration's "feeble and apologetic" diplomacy. But Kissinger made no mention of the issues on which he and Reagan disagree, chiefly his policy of detente with the Soviets and his negotiation of the Strategic Arms Limitation Talks.

Kissinger emphasized his belief that the U.S. must "catch up" with the Soviet Union in military strength. Like Reagan, however, he stopped short of calling for U.S. military superiority, as demanded by the G.O.P. platform. When pressed by reporters about whether catching up meant going beyond the Soviets, Kissinger became evasive. He said the issue is "not a numbers game" and that U.S. strength must be built up, "whatever label you give it." At the same time, however, Kissinger continues to believe that the U.S. should be willing to negotiate with the Soviets. He indicated that he had been assured that a Reagan Administration would be "prepared to negotiate to push back the specter of nuclear war, to reduce arms and to establish rules of international conduct on the basis of strict reciprocity and principle." Kissinger also warned that the U.S. must not abandon the Third World. Said he: "We have many true friends in the developing world ... They wait for our leadership; they require our protection."

On the third night of the convention came the moment that had eluded Reagan for twelve years. But first he had to endure a long, windy keynote speech by Michigan Congressman Guy Vander Jagt, who recited Henry Van Dyke's interminable America for Me* and quoted Thomas Jefferson and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Finally, the speeches were over, and Reagan's name was put in nomination by his old friend Laxalt. The nomination was seconded by several people, and then the states began casting their ballots. Montana's 20 votes pushed Reagan's total above the 998 that he needed for the nomination, and pandemonium broke out. Some 12,000 red-white-and-blue balloons, which dozens of volunteers had spent nine hours blowing up, dropped from the ceiling as Manny Harmon's Convention Orchestra played Sousa marches.

Surrounded by Wife Nancy, Sons Michael, 35, and Ron, 22, and Daughters Patricia, 27, and Maureen, a broadly grinning Reagan watched the proceedings on TV from his 69th-floor suite in the Detroit Plaza Hotel. He gave his wife a victory kiss and then drove the short distance to the Joe Louis Arena to acknowledge the cheers of his supporters and to clear up the confusion over his running mate.

On the following night, after he had formally accepted the nomination and delivered the address witnessed by millions of Americans, Reagan again stood on the platform, this time with Bush at his side. The very fact that they were together indicated the political changes in the men and, more important, in their party. Both G.O.P. wings have set aside their differences to form a practical alliance. The glue that holds this coalition together is based largely on economic issues. But it also is helped by the poor performance of the Carter Administration and the fact that the new Republicanism is coming to life at a time when traditional party loyalty is waning, making shifts of allegiance easier for voters.

Presidential politics is, more than anything else, personality politics. The campaign will take many unexpected twists and turns before Election Day on Nov. 4. But last week, in Joe Louis Arena, the Republican Party seemed clearly to have stolen a march on the Democrats in the contest to form a new, right-center coalition and become the new majority.

-- By Frank B. Merrick, Reporter by Laurence I. Barrett and Walter Isaacson/Detroit

* To 37 for John Anderson, 13 for Bush, one for Anne Armstrong, former U.S. Ambassador to Britain, and four abstentions.

*Sample verse:

I know that Europe's wonderful, yet something seems to lack:

The Past is too much with her, and the people looking back.

But the glory of the Present is to make the Future free--

We love our land for what she is and what she is to be.

With reporting by Laurence I. Barret, Walter Isaacson/Detroit

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