An Unlikely Affinity

By Hugh Sidey

Ted Kennedy went down to the White House last week for the swearing in of the Commission on the Bicentennial of the U.S. Constitution. He is one of 23 members responsible for the planning of a 1987 celebration. Vice President George Bush, substituting for the convalescing Ronald Reagan, dutifully passed out the standard presidential cuff links. Back on Capitol Hill, Kennedy showed the gift to some of his Democratic colleagues with a wry boast: "I can help you get some of these." The Republican stalwart, Barry Goldwater, caught the irony. "I'll bet," he kidded, "they have line-item veto written on the back."

Gold water's comment stemmed from Kennedy's spirited Senate endorsement a week earlier of Reagan's plea for power to veto individual budget appropriations. At the same time, Kennedy gave a smart slap to his own institution: "The budget process is in shambles, the deficit is out of control, and Congress is the problem."

This was one more episode illustrating the singular relationship that has grown up between these two political adversaries. Kennedy has lifted anchor and is drifting in lonely but intriguing fashion beyond the old Senate "club" and the Democratic Party's reflexive partisanship. He can be as tough as boiled owls about Reagan's policies ("cold unfairness") but in the same breath admiring of the man ("Ronald Reagan has restored the presidency as a vigorous, purposeful instrument of national leadership").

Something is obviously shifting within Kennedy. No doubt it has to do with whatever presidential ambitions he has. But fairness suggests his view is inspired in part by Reagan's personal grace, the lack of which in national debate has dismayed Kennedy. In part, too, Kennedy's view stems from 23 years in the Senate, which have nurtured an awareness that there is more to politics than the struggles for Government pork and headlines on the nightly news. He says that J.F.K. and Reagan both set agendas, participated in the daily struggles but "succeeded in reaching above that to establish a national feeling of hope and direction."

Reagan may have sparked the warming four years ago when he arranged the White House ceremony to present a posthumous congressional gold medal for Bobby Kennedy. Before the event he invited the Kennedy clan to the Oval Office. Rose Kennedy could not attend, and Reagan asked Ted to bring his mother around when she was able. Kennedy did, and the three of them talked for 45 minutes in the midst of a crowded presidential day. Reagan later awarded Eunice Kennedy Shriver the Medal of Freedom for her work with the mentally retarded and reappointed Jean Kennedy Smith to the Kennedy Center's board of trustees. A couple of times in recent years Kennedy and Reagan sat side by side at St. Patrick's Day lunches and swapped political and family stories. Reagan has repeatedly quoted John Kennedy in his speeches, and made a special point of attending the family's service marking the 20th anniversary of Kennedy's death.

A few weeks ago, Reagan went to Kennedy's Virginia home to boost a fundraising dinner for the J.F.K. library. Ted took the President to his study and showed him nautical mementos, explaining how John was renewed by his contact with the sea. Did the President have a place of quiet where he could reinvigorate his spirit? asked Kennedy. The President told the story of how he had found his California ranch and how much he loved it.

Whatever the elixir of these past months, it has given Kennedy an affectionate respect for the man in the White House. "Ronald Reagan," Kennedy said last week, "has self-confidence as a human being, as a man and as a President." That is about as high a personal compliment as an Irish Democrat will grant an Irish Republican.