Monday, Apr. 24, 1995

THE BRAND-NEW BOB DOLE

By Michael Kramer

"IT FEELS GOOD TO BE IN OHIO," BOB DOLE SAID last Tuesday. "Good to be among friends.'' "It feels good to be in Dallas," Dole said last Wednesday. "Good to be among friends.'' Don't worry. Sooner or later the G.O.P. front runner will visit your state and feel good about being there too. That's what running to lead the world's most powerful nation is all about. And for the third time, that is what Bob Dole is trying to do.

After unofficially declaring for the presidency about 1,000 times during the past few months, Dole finally made it official last week. In a mad dash through 10 states--a purposely grueling schedule designed to prove that at 71 he's still vigorous enough for the job--Dole announced and reannounced that he should be President because "I have the experience," because "I have been tested and tested and tested in many, many ways" and because "I am not afraid to lead, and I know the way.''

To where, though? Stay tuned, said Dole. "We'll flesh things out as we go along." Says the candidate's chief strategist, Bill Lacey: "Our only vulnerability would be if we don't have a viable message." It may be that the sum of Dole's rhetoric never coheres into a concrete plan of action; yet setting a tone is the requisite beginning of a "viable message," and that's what Dole was about last week.

Dole, however, has a problem. He is the putative nominee, but all around him, his party is seething. His situation is a lot like the one Ed Muskie faced when he ran for the Democratic nomination in 1972. Muskie failed to accommodate the Democrats' antiwar majority and his attempt, he later said, was a mistake because "it destroyed my core support." Like Muskie, Dole is now trying to adapt himself to the changing center of gravity in his party. That he should have to make the effort at all tells you how far rightward the G.O.P. has tilted. Until now, no one has challenged Dole's conservatism. However, evidence of Dole's compassion--his support for school lunches, food stamps and AIDS research, for example--is cited by his opponents as proof that he is a closet moderate, which for many hard-core conservatives is akin to saying he's a socialist. If Dole were truly the leader he claims to be, he would be seeking to bring the G.O.P. back to his brand of pragmatism, the kind of Republicanism that flourished before Ronald Reagan. Instead, Dole is slavishly striving to join the rightward lurch.

Compare his previous announcement speeches with last week's, and with some of his other recent statements, and the magnitude of the lurch becomes clear. When he ran for the 1980 nomination, Dole swiped at "single-issue constituencies," like those seeking to preserve "the right to bear arms." Today Dole favors repealing the ban on assault weapons. Back then Dole described America as "the Mother of Exiles" and spoke movingly about "not fearing that new Americans [might] threaten to diminish a finite national wealth." Today he supports the G.O.P.'s anti-immigrant stance. Back then he warned against "dividing a people to conquer office" and about "exacerbating [racial tensions] for political advantage." Today he opposes the affirmative-action programs he used to defend.

When he ran in 1988, Dole favored the Federal Government's "stimulating school systems to improve what goes on in our classrooms." Today he proposes abolishing four Cabinet agencies, including the Education Department. Seven years ago, Dole spoke about the need to "provide care and assistance for the hungry and the homeless and the disabled.'' Nothing resembling that was heard last week. Instead, Dole adopted a Dan Quayle-like concern for restoring "traditional values." In a neat "twofer," Dole attacked Hollywood for promoting "casual violence and even more casual sex" and the government in Washington for undermining "the moral code we nurture in our churches and synagogues."

Perhaps Dole's greatest change involves taxes. When he ran in '88--and indeed throughout his career--Dole identified the "federal budget deficit" as the "single greatest threat to a prosperous and dynamic America." He spoke about cutting taxes (as every politician does), but he lost the crucial '88 New Hampshire primary when he refused to sign the pledge that George Bush later evolved into "Read my lips; no new taxes." Last week Dole surrendered without a fight when he signed the very same kind of pledge he responsibly refrained from endorsing seven years ago.

These days Dole calls himself "warm and cuddly.'' If his legendary meanspiritedness remains submerged, says Dole, it will be because he is finally "relaxed" about his ambition. It may also be that Dole has simply resigned himself to following Bush's disciplined determination to do and say "whatever it takes'' to win. And that, in turn, may reflect Dole's growing comfort with his old nemesis' cynical view of the entire punishing enterprise. "The people are wonderful at understanding when a campaign ends and the world of business begins," Bush said after he won in 1988. Forget about what he'd said and done to triumph, Bush explained. The campaign isn't a guide to governance: "It's history. It doesn't mean anything anymore.''