A Tie Goes to the Gipper

By Ed Magnuson, GEORGE J. CHURCH

It was his last great test as a campaigner. Shaken by a stumbling performance in the first presidential debate two weeks earlier in Louisville, Ronald Reagan had to show millions of Americans watching Sunday night's face-off in Kansas City that he was in command of his office, in control of his facts and not addled by age. Once again, the Gipper was up to the task.

On a stage with softer backlighting than in Louisville, Reagan looked vigorous and spoke like the Great Communicator of political legend. The nervousness of two weeks before was gone, as were the long pauses and defensive stance. He was occasionally loose and rambling on substance, but constantly cool and winning in manner. Above all, he strongly diffused the age issue that had arisen after the first debate and may have been the only obstacle to his reelection.

Indeed, Reagan turned the issue around with his oh-so-familiar grin and a sharp, well-rehearsed quip: "I am not going to exploit for political purposes my opponent's youth and inexperience." Mondale smiled back but had to have been surprised by the unexpected twist, and the audience laughed with the President.

Repeatedly, an aggressive and more crisply articulate Mondale tried to zero in on Reagan's competence and leadership ability rather than his years. The question, declared the challenger, is "Who's in charge?" Mondale accused Reagan of failing to exert control, specifically with respect to security measures in the face of terrorist threats in Beirut, a CIA handbook advising political assassinations, blackmail and kidnapings in Nicaragua, and fights within his Government about arms-control policy. Declared Mondale: "A President must not only assure that we're tough. [He] must also be wise and smart in the exercise of that power."

All such attacks seemed to roll off the President. Mondale scored many debating points after a somewhat tentative start, but his target slipped the best punches. Flashing a bit of folksy humor, sounding hurt more than angry at some of the Mondale sallies and committing no harmful gaffe, a reassuring Reagan almost surely avoided any serious slippage in the opinion polls. Technically, Mondale may have scored better through the 90 minutes--a panel of debating experts assembled by the Associated Press had him ahead 187 to 168, out of a maximum of 210 points, in such qualities as reasoning, evidence and organization--but his underdog status demanded a knockout, and that he did not get. A quick ABC News survey of 695 viewers (with a possible sampling error of five points either way) showed Reagan a narrow winner: 39% to 36%, with 25% seeing it as a tie. The debate had virtually no impact on candidate preference: each man gained a single point, with Reagan getting a 56 to 43 edge and 1% undecided (down from 3%).

"We won," declared Reagan Chief of Staff James Baker shortly after the debate ended. "If it is written that it was a wash, we still win. The age issue is gone, g-o-n-e!" Asked if the feeling in his camp was better than after the Louisville clash, Baker replied happily, "You're damn right!"

The mood was nowhere near as upbeat among Mondale's aides. They rushed to the press room to tell reporters how well their man had done, but their eagerness to put the right "spin" on the coverage bespoke a lack of confidence in the outcome. Said Mondale Campaign Chairman James Johnson: "Tonight not only did he show he was strong and effective, but he showed again important Reagan weaknesses." Campaign Manager Robert Beckel tried to appear exultant. "Two and 0," he declared. "There's no question about it. Mondale was sure of himself tonight and Reagan was not."

Mondale aides could take genuine pride in the Democrat's technical performance. The former Vice President once again demonstrated his sharp debating skills and proved conclusively that he could more than hold his own with the President. Gaining confidence as the night went on, he pounded home his differences with Reagan and the President's party, and in so doing he may have lured some wavering Democrats to his side, but it seemed doubtful that he shook much of Reagan's support.

Reagan did not make his Louisville mistake of reeling,off statistics to rebut each Mondale charge. When Mondale strayed somewhat off the subject on an immigration question to remind viewers of the huge budget deficits under Reagan, the President snapped to attention with a smile. "I've heard the national debt blamed for a lot of things," he said, "but not for illegal immigration." And he tossed off one stinging statistic: the 21.5% prime interest rate in the U.S. under the Carter Administration. Both contenders may well have been handicapped by having to deal with some unusually windy and tortuous questions, especially from two of the panelists, Georgie Anne Geyer, a syndicated columnist, and Henry Trewhitt, diplomatic correspondent of the Baltimore Sun.

One topic demonstrated the differing approaches in debating style of the two contenders. Reagan, anticipating the attack, was the first to bring up his Star Wars proposal, his plan to build a shield against nuclear missiles over the U.S. (see box). Speaking in generalities, he painted a soothing portrait of all nuclear weapons being rendered useless and missiles being destroyed instead of people. Mondale agreed with the goal, but insisted that the feat could not be accomplished, would cost a trillion dollars and would require such a fast response time that the decision to launch an antimissile strike would be left to computers, which could fire in error. Reagan shrugged off such details, arguing that it was up to scientists to determine how the system would work and how it would be deployed. Snapped Mondale: "Well that's what a President is supposed to know."

Mondale almost outdid Reagan in declaring his distaste for the Soviet Union as "tough and ruthless." To Reagan's proposal that the U.S. should give the Soviets a chance to share American technology on a Star Wars defense, thus lessening the possibility that a U.S. deployment of the system might tempt a pre-emptive strike by the Kremlin, Mondale retorted that this would be folly.

The closing statements, which had been touted by both camps as perhaps critical to the debate, proved to be disappointments. Mondale's was ably delivered, but was mainly a summary of much of what he has been saying in the campaign. He passingly cited a new theme--"We need to move on. Its time for America to find new leadership"--which was meant to contrast with Republican denunciations of the Carter years. Reagan tarried too long on a description of the many beauties of California's coast, while setting up his ruminations on what he had once put into a time capsule to be opened in 100 years. Here he committed one of his few verbal slips, citing "the policies of weakness of the last four years," when he meant the Carter-Mondale term. Then he ran out of time, just as he was warming to an inspirational peroration. Reagan smiled good-naturedly when Moderator Edwin Newman chopped him off with half a minute of the conclusion he had prepared still to go. Rarely has a President been so abruptly interrupted, but those were the rules of the debate.

When the real action began inside the hall, before an audience of 2,500, questions of defense, arms control and dealing with the Soviets dominated the debate. The candidates returned to them repeatedly, even when replying to questions about other subjects. Reagan was at his reassuring best when asked by NBC Diplomatic Correspondent Marvin Kalb how he reconciled his recent conciliatory line toward the Soviets with his previous "evil empire" comments. The President replied that he took back nothing he had said, but recognized, and had told the Soviets, that "we have to live with each other ... between us we can either destroy the world or we can save it." His earlier "realistic talk," he said, had been necessary because he followed an Administration that had pursued "the policy of unilateral disarmament," and it was necessary to let the Soviets know the line was changing. "We did get their attention," he concluded.

Mondale, Reagan said, had a "record of weakness with regard to our national defense that is second to none." Noting that the Democratic candidate has aired a campaign TV spot showing him standing on the deck of the aircraft carrier Nimitz, the President asserted that if Mondale "had had his way ... he would have been deep in the water" because the Nimitz would never have been built.

Mondale's tart reply, addressed directly to Reagan, was: "Your definition of national strength is to throw money at the Defense Department. My definition ... is to make certain that a dollar spent buys a dollar's worth of defense." While repeating his oppositon to the MX missile ("a sitting duck") and the B-l bomber (flying it, he said, would be "a suicide mission"), Mondale rattled off a long list of weapons systems he did favor. Money saved on the MX and Bl, he contended, could be spent for other military purposes, like strengthening conventional forces in Europe. Said Mondale: "I accept your commitment to peace, but I want you to accept my commitment to a strong national defense."

On arms control, Mondale repeatedly questioned Reagan's competence to deal with the subject. He cited the book Deadly Gambits by TIME Diplomatic Correspondent Strobe Talbott to indicate gaps in the President's knowledge. Reagan's "failure to master . . . the essential elements of arms control," said Mondale, had "cost us dearly." As an example, Mondale accused Reagan several times of saying that nuclear missiles launched by submarines can be recalled, which in fact they cannot. The President replied that the accusation was "ridiculous"; he had said the submarines themselves could be recalled.

On that point, the facts are not with Reagan. His exact quote, from a press conference on May 13, 1982, referred to missiles carried by submarines and bombers as follows: "You are dealing there with a conventional type of weapon or instrument, and those instruments can be intercepted. They can be recalled if there has been a miscalculation."

Mondale had some difficulty defending his own proposal for a nuclear freeze. He stressed over and over again that he would negotiate no agreement that could not be verified, but failed to explain how a compliance with a freeze could be assured. Reagan, attempting to defend himself against the Democrat's complaints that he had not only failed to negotiate any arms-control agreements but had not even met with a top leader of the U.S.S.R. until his session with Soviet Foreign Minister Andrei Gromyko in September, said that it was the Soviets who had walked out of nuclear-weapons talks in Geneva.

Mondale also sharply questioned Reagan's competence in dealing with Lebanon. The Democrat said the President had sent Marines there on an ill-defined mission against the advice of the U.S. Joint Chiefs of Staff and left them exposed to terrorist attack. They had "to leave in humiliation," said Mondale, and the Soviet position in the Middle East was strengthened because of the withdrawal. He also assailed the lack of security evident in the bombing of the American embassy in Beirut last month.

In one of several examples of argumentative questioning from the panel of journalists, Morton Kondracke, executive editor of the New Republic, asked Reagan if he had not displayed the same weakness he accused Jimmy Carter of showing in the Iran hostage situation by not retaliating against the terrorist attacks. Reagan said the Marines had been sent to Lebanon at the request of that country's government as "a stabilizing force" and had been succeeding in that mission when the terrorist attacks began. He had "no apologies" for their mission, the President said. In one of his more effective presentations of the evening, Reagan underscored his humane intentions by insisting that the U.S. would retaliate against terrorist attacks only "if we can put our finger on" the groups specifically responsible. Said the President: "We are not going to simply kill some people to say, 'oh look, we got even.' " Mondale in turn quoted Groucho Marx as once asking, "Who do you believe, me or your own eyes?" What the American public could see with its own eyes in Lebanon, he said, was failure.

Neither candidate dealt especially well with questions about Central America. Reagan was defensive and unsure in discussing a CIA manual that gave U.S.-supported contra guerrillas battling the Sandinista government of Nicaragua advice on how to assassinate Sandinista officials. The President said the manual had been written by "a gentlemen down in Nicaragua [he meant in Central America] who is on contract" to the CIA, and the CIA both in Central America and Washington had excised several pages. "Some way or other," however, the offending pages had stayed in copies of the manual distributed to the contras. Reagan strongly denied that the U.S. did or ever would support assassination as a political policy. Mondale called the manual "a classic example of a strategy that's embarrassed us and strengthened our opposition" and said that "a President must know these things. How can this happen . . . and the President say he didn't know?"

While Mondale may have got the better of that exchange, he had some trouble explaining his own policy toward Central America. Asked to define his suggestion for a "quarantine" of Nicaragua, he replied that Nicaragua would have to stay within its own borders, but did not explain how he proposed to have the U.S. stop it if it did not. For Central America generally, he advocated a three-pronged policy of economic aid, military assistance to forces friendly to the U.S. and "a diplomatic effort" to "pursue opportunities for peace" with America's foes. Reagan's reply: "The plan Mr. Mondale outlined is the one we're following."

A discussion on human rights was also inconclusive, partly because the journalists' questions allowed the candidates to get away with talking about different countries. "Perhaps in no area do we disagree more," said Mondale. He accused the Reagan Administration of "cozying up to Argentine dictators" (since deposed) and of undue friendliness to the apartheid regime in South Africa. Reagan, in effect, said that there were worse things than the survival of rulers who might not respect human rights as much as Americans would like. In Iran, Reagan said, the fall of the Shah, which happened while the Career Administration was in power, had been followed by the rule of a "maniacal fanatic," obviously meaning the Ayatullah Khomeini. In the Philippines now, Reagan continued, the regime of Ferdinand Marcos might not "look good to us from the standpoint right now of democratic rights," but the alternative to Marcos might be the seizure of power by a Communist movement and that would hardly be any gain for democracy.

The most unsatisfactory discussion of all was about immigration. Mondale repeated his opposition to the Simpson-Mazzoli bill, which died in the last Congress. It would have imposed penalties on employers who knowingly hire illegal immigrants, many of whom come from Mexico. Mondale protested that this could have led to discrimination in hiring against all Hispanics, indeed against all foreigners. It was at this point that he worked in a strained attack on the U.S. budget deficit, claiming that the deficits raised interest rates, which created trouble for poor countries in repaying international debts and intensified the poverty that causes many of their citizens to flee to the U.S. Reagan jocularly replied that blaming illegal immigration on American budget deficits was pretty farfetched. But he made a questionable assertion of his own in claiming that the problem of population growth in the world was "vastly exaggerated."

The debate, in some respects, was as notable for what was not said as for what was. There was not a word about Grenada, invaded by American forces almost precisely a year earlier. And the only mention of the Middle East, apart from Lebanon, came when Reagan included it with Central America and "the Pacific Basin" in a list of areas of vital concern to the U.S. One reason, no doubt, is that the candidates do not have time to reel off all the answers they have rehearsed to the questions that no one asks; they concentrate on making what they regard as their most essential points.

As they prepared for Sunday night's Shootout, each side had been totally aware that it was High Noon of the presidential campaign. "This debate is the election," declared a Reagan adviser. Another decisive Mondale victory, predicted one of the Democrat's aides, would produce "a firestorm of excitement that takes on a life of its own." Psychologically, however, each camp faced a different task in grooming its man for the test.

Ironically, those coaching Reagan had a more delicate and complex problem. The most masterly manipulator of TV in presidential history had been wounded on the tube in Louisville. Aides knew that he, just as much as they, wanted to restore his lost luster. "This is the last time he ever has to put this kind of pressure on himself as long as he lives," said one. But they wondered if his self-confidence had been shaken. Thus, as Reagan rehearsed answers, his handlers were quick to praise his replies. Conceded one: "There's been a lot of cheerleading, trying to boost him up." As Reagan demonstrated Sunday night, the cheerleading achieved its purpose.

Mondale, on the other hand, had erased doubts that he belonged on the same stage with Reagan by performing so adroitly in their first encounter. His confidence had soared, and now his advisers had the chore of devising a strategy that would build on his earlier success. They felt that he could be tougher on Reagan in the foreign policy debate, where the Democrats claimed to have a stronger case. They urged Mondale to be a prosecutor, applying constant pressure.

The mechanics of the preparations did not differ greatly from those before the first debate. Each candidate spent part of the week trying out his best lines on campaign audiences and sharpening his summaries of complex foreign policy questions. Reagan fielded some generally soft questions from high school and college students on a two-day foray into the South and Midwest, and his answers grew tighter and more effective as the trip progressed. Mondale had been working with three foreign policy experts, and they accompanied him on a Western swing on Monday, grilling him with possible debate questions during a three-hour flight between St. Louis and San Francisco. The trio of wise men were two former Carter Administration officials--David Aaron, a deputy to National Security Adviser Zbigniew Brzezinski, and Walter Slocombe, a onetime Defense Department official--and Barry Carter, who was an aide to Henry Kissinger on President Nixon's National Security Council.

Both candidates spent long hours grappling with their briefing books. Reagan's included several pages of what his staff calls "zingers," sharp one-line digs at Mondale arranged by subject matter, and "winners," similar capsule comments meant to highlight his own strengths. The bulk of the 30-page book addressed a dozen probable questions, with detailed answers. (The President's briefing book for the first debate had anticipated every question except one on abortion.) Two separate pages were devoted to Reagan's closing statement. He had largely ignored that script at Louisville in a self-defeating desire to rebut Mondale's arguments with a jumble of statistics, and this time again ignored part of what was suggested.

The Mondale book was a black loose-leaf binder bulging with explications of some 20 topics, complete with sample questions and proposed answers. The Democratic camp expected almost all of Sunday night's questions to fall into four broad categories: arms control, Star Wars, management of the Defense Department, and world hot spots, especially Central America and the Middle East. During rehearsals, Mondale was more concerned about his delivery than about mastering the facts.

The atmosphere in the two camps was markedly different. Once again, Reagan was tested by David Stockman, the Office of Management and Budget Director, who played Mondale with a keen oratorical resemblance to the real foe. Before the last debate, Stockman had adopted two roles, one feisty Fritz, the other calm and mild. This time Stockman synthesized the two types on what turned out to be the correct assumption that Mondale would again be firm but low key.

At these sessions in an auditorium in the old Executive Office Building, Reagan Aide Richard Darman played the role of moderator. They worried about Reagan's evident desire to answer every assault on his record; his meandering, overly detailed responses had cost him points two weeks earlier in Louisville. Apart from the rehearsals, the President held briefing sessions with such advisers as Secretary of State George Shultz, National Security Adviser Robert McFarlane, Nevada Senator Paul Laxalt, longtime Reagan Adviser Stuart Spencer and White House Aides Baker and Michael Deaver.

In the Mondale camp, the rehearsals were much less like a debate. Looking relaxed in blue jeans and a pale blue shirt, the Democrat stood behind a podium in the dining room of his Washington home. Michael Severn, president of Columbia University and one of Mondale's former law professors at the University of Minnesota, usually played the President. At other times Aaron or Senior Adviser Richard Leone was the Reagan standin. Mondale would repeat some answers four times, refining his phrasing and gestures. The sessions were filmed and then critiqued. Said one Mondale adviser: "It's like a graduate seminar being videotaped."

The Reagan strategists did not try to conceal their concern that one issue might yet wipe out the President's comfortable lead in the polls, which last week ranged from nine points (Harris) to 25 points (NBC). "The age thing is what we're most scared of," admitted an aide. "That's what he has to put to rest on Sunday night." Another top adviser was confident that Reagan would easily pass that test, joking, "If he doesn't drool or shake, he'll be all right."

Pollster Louis Harris found that many voters had accepted the White House explanation that the President had merely suffered an off night in Louisville. Despite an overwhelming verdict (61% to 19%) that Mondale had won the first debate, Harris reported, fully 46% expected Reagan to dominate the second encounter; only 33% anticipated another Mondale triumph.

As it turned out, supporters of each candidate could claim with some justification that their man had met their expectations in Kansas City. But for Mondale, meeting the expectations of his own camp simply was not enough. He needed to tap into Reagan's vast reservoir of trust and affection. With his nimbleness and good humor, Reagan had the dikes firmly plugged. Against the advice of some of his aides, he had taken up his opponent's challenge to debate and had survived the risks of going at it man to man in front of millions of Americans with no prepared text. Now he could look forward to winding up the campaign with a series of stage-managed rallies, snappy one-liners and those flag-bedecked settings that come off so well on TV newscasts. Nov. 6 was only two weeks away, and the Gipper could look forward to a rousing fortnight with his favorite audience, the American electorate. --By Ed Magnuson and George J.

Church. Reported by Robert Ajemian, Sam Allis and Douglas Brew/Kansas City

With reporting by Robert Ajemian, Sam Allis, Douglas Brew/Kansas City