Monday, Jan. 27, 1992

Nipping At Clinton's Heels

By LAURENCE I. BARRETT MANCHESTER

It was late in coming, but election-year madness has finally gripped New Hampshire. Candidates accost voters on frigid streets, knots of campaign workers wave placards in shopping malls, and a blizzard of campaign commercials blankets prime-time airwaves. But the familiar trappings disguise even more volatility than usual as the nation's first primary moves to its climax. Though Bill Clinton is the media-anointed front runner, easily two- thirds of the likely Democratic voters are in flux, and the fortunes of his four main rivals have been fluctuating erratically.

Only now is the Democrats' Silly Putty politics beginning to assume some semblance of structure. Though Bob Kerrey, Paul Tsongas and Tom Harkin still strive to overtake Clinton in New Hampshire, each could survive to fight in later rounds by running a respectable second here. Jerry Brown, who started as the most prominent in a field of little-knowns, must fend off disaster in this contest or find a launching pad elsewhere. The strategies of Clinton's four main rivals:

Brown as Ishmael.

The former California Governor has three distinctions. He is the only one who has sought the nomination before. He bases his pitch exclusively on a crusade to purify the political process. And according to a poll published last week by the University of New Hampshire's Survey Center, only Brown has an overall negative rating among the state's voters. His constant attacks on his rivals as prisoners of the old politics make him seem like a single-issue Ishmael. Though his relatively high name recognition allows him to score well in national polls, that edge is absent in New Hampshire, where the other candidates are becoming known. His low-budget campaign appears to be getting nowhere in this state, so he is investing more of his time elsewhere.

Harkin strikes again.

Iowa Senator Tom Harkin staked out his turf early. Starting six months ago, he enlisted important allies in the labor movement and the state party leadership. He roused audiences with his muscular evocation of old-fashioned liberalism and scathing attacks on George Bush. Then he stalled. Observes Mark Mackenzie, president of the state AFL-CIO: "Harkin has had some trouble moving beyond his initial stump speech."

Last week Harkin was desperately trying to pump juice into his campaign. Calling a press conference in 5 degrees weather at a sewer-construction site, he proclaimed himself "the only real Democrat in the race" and said his rivals were "all just shades of Republican policies." He accused "the Governor of Arkansas" of being too sympathetic to Japanese automobile imports. Belatedly he began running TV spots that ply the theme "I want to be known as the President that rebuilt America." Harkin thinks that as the only red-blooded liberal, he can eke out a plurality among traditional Democrats while his sound-alike rivals divide the rest. But this year even some labor chiefs and left-leaning activists yearn for a winner who can reach well beyond the New Deal heritage. So far, Harkin isn't even trying.

Kerrey misfires and rearms.

The Nebraska Senator started with enough emotional intensity and mystique to attract a following in New Hampshire that included many of Gary Hart's old supporters. But even some of his advisers now admit that Kerrey did not master his own message or achieve the discipline required for a national campaign. He relied too heavily on his biography (war hero, self-made businessman, ex- Governor) and on the appeal of his plan for a national health-care program.

Having repeatedly called for "fundamental change" in government, he applied that principle to his organization last month by overhauling the staff. Then he proceeded to pick fights with Clinton, charging that his proposals are merely "a way to remake the programs of the 1960s" rather than a formula for reform.

Meanwhile, Kerrey junked his TV commercials before they were shown and hired David Doak and Bob Shrum, a team of political-ad consultants known for their hard-hitting work. Though produced in a rush, their first two spots have drawn good reviews. Each carries the punch line "Fight Back America." One shows Kerrey in a hospital plugging his health program. The other poses him in a hockey rink, promising to defend America's net against unfair Japanese trade practices. Both convey a sense of determination that Kerrey hopes will | convince voters that he, not Clinton, is the reliable agent of renewal. The remaining three debates will give him an opportunity to outshine the more cautious, stolid Arkansas Governor.

Tsongas plays the enforcer.

If class and intellect were the only criteria, the former Senator from Massachusetts would be cruising. Tsongas' platform is a trenchant 86-page guide to revival with two simple arguments: that sustained economic recovery demands fundamental changes in national policy, and that Democrats don't deserve to win unless they adopt a pro-business philosophy. Few New Hampshire voters have read his monograph, and fewer still agree with his dismissal of a middle-class tax cut as "Twinkie economics." On the basis of next-door familiarity and his reputation for integrity, Tsongas for a time held a lead over lesser-known rivals. As a campaign performer, the bland and somber Tsongas couldn't make the lead in a high school play. His demeanor, poor TV presence and dire admonitions make him this year's edition of Bruce Babbitt. With his early advantage fading, Tsongas remains the conscience and enforcer, trying to keep the field as honest as politics allows. Last week he blasted Kerrey's new TV ad on the trade issue as "economics by media consultants" because it "gives people every incentive not to understand that the threat is internal." He doesn't carp at Clinton much, partly because the two men agree on many issues. But in competitive terms, it serves Tsongas' interests to undermine Kerrey, who last week seemed his main rival for second place.

New Hampshire voters have a history of demolishing conventional wisdom and learned analysis with election-day thunderbolts. Eight years ago this week, John Glenn appeared to be poised for a fine showing; his defeat forced him from the race. Others nurturing great expectations have suffered the same fate. But with "undecided" doing as well as any candidate in the latest reliable survey, all the contenders can still afford to dream.