Fresh Faces in the Mansion

By KURT ANDERSEN

And most are Democrats, who now command 34 statehouses

They are the dukes of the American democracy, officials who possess broad powers in their states and, as a presidential year draws near, can exact tribute from the incumbent in the White House and those who want to oust him. All reason enough for the Reagan Administration to have put a high priority on maintaining at 23 the G.O.P.'s share of governorships. Another factor last week that made the gubernatorial races a bit more important to the President: his already unpopular New Federalism proposal to shift welfare burdens to the states depends on the Governors' cooperation.

The Republicans were badly jolted on Election Day. The Democrats took three-quarters of last week's 36 gubernatorial contests, their best showing since the post-Watergate landslide of 1974. They will preside in 34 states, a net gain of seven for sure, with a remote possibility of picking up an eighth in Illinois (see following story). Of the five incumbents who lost, only one was a Democrat: New Hampshire's Hugh Gallen, beaten because he refused to take the state's ritual pledge for gubernatorial candidates to veto any income or sales tax.

In the Midwest, Democrats will replace Republicans in five states: Nebraska, Wisconsin, Ohio, Minnesota and Michigan. In Michigan, Congressman James Blanchard, with organized labor's support, soundly beat Richard Headlee, a conservative, and will become the state's first Democratic Governor in 20 years. Six other important races:

CALIFORNIA. Tom Bradley's victory was to have been cause for national self-congratulation: the Los Angeles mayor would have become the country's first elected black Governor. But Democrat Bradley, 64, lost narrowly to the state's stern attorney general, Republican George Deukmejian, 54, who established a modest bench mark of his own: he is the first Governor of Armenian parentage.

Was Bradley beaten because of his race? Probably. California Pollster Mervin Field found that "race was a major factor." The margin, in any case, was slight, 52,000 out of 7.4 million votes.

Deukmejian, with his law-and-order reputation, may have benefited from the large number of right-wingers drawn to the polls to defeat a handgun-control initiative. Deukmejian portrayed Bradley as a coddler of crooks, despite the mayor's 21 years as a Los Angeles policeman, and concentrated on the crime-and-punishment issues. Bradley, meanwhile, talked earnestly and almost exclusively about unemployment. It was not enough.

TEXAS. In 1978 he became Texas' first Republican Governor in more than 100 years, after spending $7.2 million. So Bill Clements, 65, an oil-rich spendthrift, dropped $12.5 million this time, and expected a no-sweat reelection. Then, as his election-night party started, ABC News began predicting that Democrat Mark White would be the winner. Gasped one partygoer: "You're kidding me."

No joke. White, 42, the state's conservative attorney general who has a penchant for populist rhetoric, drubbed Clements, 53% to 46%. The next day, Clements was as vividly candid as ever: "We not only got beaten at the line of scrimmage, but we probably needed another quarterback. When you take a shellacking, you lick your wounds and come back another day."

"What beat Clements," said Jim Francis, the loser's campaign manager, "was this revolt based on unemployment, Social Security and fear." Joblessness is at a high 8.3% in Texas. White also exploited popular antipathy toward Texas power companies, suggesting that as Governor he would make the state's utility regulatory agency "a watchdog, not a lapdog." Said Don Ring, Clements' media consultant: "Texas politics snapped back to party lines just like a rubber band around a batch of Social Security checks."

The Mexican-American electorate, which has doubled since 1976, helped to swing the election. Clements made much of White's opposition to the 1965 Voting Rights Act extension, and referred to himself as un hombre de palabra (a man of his word). White countered with slogans like Ya basta . . . de los Republicanos (Enough of Republicans). Chicanos agreed: the Democrats took more than 85% of the Hispanic vote. Statewide turnout was unusually high (49%), and in some black neighborhoods in Houston, which were carried heavily by White, it approached 70%.

NEBRASKA. In a state that gave Reagan his third largest majority (72%) in 1980, and where the unemployment rate (5.5%) is among the lowest in the U.S., how does a liberal young Democrat, a former antiwar activist, beat a conservative, competent G.O.P incumbent? "Extraordinary political organization," says Democratic State Chairman Dianna Schimek, "and his charismatic ability to motivate people."

Extraordinary indeed. Bob Kerrey, 39, a successful entrepreneur, had never held an elected office. His most spectacular achievement came in Viet Nam in 1969: after leading a Navy commando assault in which he lost half of his right leg, Kerrey was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor. As a member of the human rights commission in Lincoln, his home town, Kerrey is remembered chiefly for his unsuccessful advocacy of a homosexual-rights ordinance. Moreover, Republican Charles Thone, 58, was the quintessential Nebraskan of his generation, prudently plain-spoken and a bit stolid. He had won four terms in Congress before becoming Governor in 1979.

But neither Kerrey's panache nor his good looks won the election. He promised to attract jobs with more aggressive economic development, and took advantage of the fact that Thone had made enemies. The state's education lobby was angered by Thone's support of unaccredited fundamentalist schools. Other voters were upset by his approval of increases in state sales and income taxes. Thone also had irked some farmers, even though he had nothing to do with the fact that agricultural prices have fallen for three years.

Kerrey won a third of the normally Republican farm counties, as well as Omaha (54%) and the Lincoln area (61%). Even so, the state is surprised to find that it has picked such a Governor. The North Platte Telegraph was not just being snide with its headline over an editorial about Kerrey: STRANGELY, A NEBRASKAN.

ARKANSAS. It is easy to understand how Bill Clinton, handsome and facile, got too big for his britches: in 1978, at the age of 32, he was America's youngest Governor, fawned over by the national Democratic Establishment. He naturally felt charmed, headed for greater things. But Arkansas voters, fed up with his national ambitions and his ties with Jimmy Carter, turned Clinton out in 1980 in favor of Republican Frank White, a banker.

This time, almost a year before Election Day, Clinton started running an effective series of TV ads in which he apologized for wanting too much too soon. He also said he was sorry for his major policy gaffe during his two years as Governor: raising the annual automobile registration fee. In response, White argued that he would be sure to stay at home in Arkansas, fighting for jobs, and claimed he was tougher on crime than Clinton. Clinton in turn put on TV spots depicting White as a liar. The fight generated an astonishingly large voter turnout (72%), which helped Clinton win another stay in the Governor's mansion by a 10% margin.

ALABAMA. As recently as 1976, when he last failed to become President, George Wallace was still the most famous exemplar of racism in the U.S. Last Tuesday, however, a majority of Alabama's black voters almost surely cast ballots for Wallace, 63. He won easily, 60% to 40%. After a three-year retirement Wallace is, for the fourth time, the Governor of Alabama.

Paraplegic since a gunman's attack in 1972, Wallace admitted that segregation and his past racial belligerence were wrong. Blacks apparently forgave him or, like poor white Alabamans, at least preferred his familiar populism to the flaky conservatism of Emory Folmar, 52, Montgomery's Republican mayor. Explains George Wallace Jr.: "My father represented stability." Folmar, in contrast, carries a pistol and once made a splashy citizen's arrest. His argument that Wallace would embarrass Alabama seemed disingenuous. And Wallace countered that his infamy, now mellowed into statesmanlike fame, could help solve Alabama's 14.8% unemployment. Said he: "I'm known all over this country. I can pick up the phone and ask the chairmen of the boards to come to Alabama."

NEW YORK. A year ago, New York voters had no idea who Lew Lehrman was. They were only vaguely familiar with Lieutenant Governor Mario Cuomo. This odd, dark horse vs. dark horse election was a classic in its way: a smart and thoughtful Reagan conservative against a smart and thoughtful Roosevelt liberal. Cuomo won, in a decently fought, closer-than-expected (51% to 48%) race.

The issues were largely defined by Lehrman, 44, who spent $8 million of his $24 million discount-drugstore fortune on campaign advertising. He promised to crack down on criminals, and his rage attracted votes. Some of his penal ideas were archaic; he said that overcrowding existing prisons would be preferable to building new ones. Lehrman's plan for economic rejuvenation was an unalluring version of Reaganomics.

Cuomo, 50, a middle-class lawyer, opposed the death penalty and government cutbacks. Instead of cranking out novel policy prescriptions, he tended to talk about "faith" and "justice." Hazy on specifics, he exuded a kind of reassuring, world-weary wisdom and sensitivity.

Although his treasury ($5 million) was less than half as big as Lehrman's ($12.5 million), Cuomo had considerable help from labor unions. Fellow Italian Americans were loyal, but it was New York City (Cuomo by 2 to 1) that sent the city boy to the Governor's mansion in Albany.

OHIO. Richard Celeste's campaign was nigh flawless, and Ohio's voters gave him an enormous win (59% to 39%). Republican Clarence ("Bud") Brown was an inept campaigner, but he was a credible, mainstream candidate: bright, a nine-term House veteran and a friend of the Administration. Celeste, 44, derided Brown, 55, as a "cheerleader for Reaganomics," and the rap stuck in a state with 13.8% unemployment and a foundering industrial base. Celeste supports legal abortion and handgun control and opposes the death penalty, but his social liberalism seemed no stigma. His comfortable victory made the pragmatic Celeste an attractive national Democrat. The son of Italian immigrants, he is well educated (Yale and Oxford), paid his dues for twelve years in lesser state offices and ran the Peace Corps from 1978 to 1981.

Ohio's gubernatorial race was, more than most, an explicit, and negative, referendum on Reagan. In his victory speech Celeste defiantly addressed Washington: "The turnout is a message from the heartland, Mr. President. We don't want your sympathy. We want jobs. We will not wait. We will not stay your course." Partisan rhetoric, to be sure, but a plausible reading of the political mood in the beleaguered middle of America. --By Kurt Andersen. Reported by Sam Allis/Houston and Joseph J. Kane/Los Angeles

With reporting by Sam Allis, Joseph J. Kane

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