Monday, Jan. 15, 1996
HOW DOLE COULD STUMBLE
By MICHAEL KRAMER/LE MARS
WHEN HE LAST RAN FOR PRESIDENT, in 1988, Bob Dole visited Le Mars, Iowa, and bombed miserably. At Westmar University, a Methodist school where dancing on campus wasn't allowed until 1968, Dole was arrogant and condescending. A well-meaning student asked what Dole's war experience had taught him about avoiding a nuclear conflict. "The one has nothing to do with the other," Dole snapped, before adding in a mumbled tirade, "What do 18-year-olds know anyhow?"
Dole carried Le Mars anyway--few in Iowa cared for George Bush that year--but the ambivalence rages on. Many in the town say they'll support Dole again in the Feb. 12 caucuses. But during my fifth visit in 20 years to a place that normally matches the rest of the state's political choices, not one of the Dole voters I spoke with last week displayed any enthusiasm. Most seemed grudgingly resigned to their choice. As a result, many local Republicans predict that caucus attendance will fall to less than a quarter of the 1988 total of 974 voters. "It's a 'by default' kind of thing," concedes Elaine Homan, a local Dole supporter. "I can't even count on my own family's showing up."
This could be bad news for Dole, whose lead in the polls is big but shaky. In caucus states like Iowa, where voting takes more effort, conservative activists have disproportionate impact. The passionate supporters of such candidates as Phil Gramm and Pat Buchanan are sure to vote, so a low turnout by moderates could hurt Dole, give a runner-up some surprising strength and turn the primary season into a real contest.
In most ways, Le Marsians are feeling upbeat. The town's population (8,500) has been stable for years. Its economy has largely weathered the farming recessions, thanks mostly to the thriving, family-owned Wells dairy empire, whose output entitles Le Mars to bill itself as the "ice cream capital of the world." Like most Midwestern towns, Le Mars values thrift. Residents still fondly recall that in 1975 Jimmy Carter and his press secretary, Jody Powell, saved six bucks by sharing a room at the Amber Inn. Local Democrats fell for Carter, but there weren't many of them. The place is Republican to the core and decidedly conservative. A billboard outside town welcomes travelers with the words ABORTION, THE CHOICE THAT KILLS.
Dole's Iowa campaign seems as half-hearted as his support. After Gramm surprised Dole by tying him in the Ames straw poll last August, Dole tried to beef up his statewide organization. His campaign now has local operatives in each of the state's 99 counties, but their quality is questionable. In the Le Mars area, the campaign wanted to enlist Mary Reynolds, a former g.o.p. county chairman and Dole fan. Reynolds refused when she realized she wasn't going to get the help she needed. "It was clear in our conversations that the Washington headquarters was pressuring the in-state people to show immediate movement," says Reynolds. "There was no time to set up a proper structure. They just wanted the boxes filled." Eventually, the job slated for Reynolds went to plumbing contractor David Klingensmith, who says, "I haven't really started yet. It's going to be hard."
Dole's statesmanlike stands on Bosnia and ending the government shutdown have earned him no credit in Le Mars, says Klingensmith. "Folks lump Dole with the others in Washington whom they hate," he adds. Says Dan Wells, the dairy executive: "We thought we ended the gridlock with the '94 election. At this point you'd have to say I'm for Dole somewhat. I mean, I could change."
Another lingering problem is Dole's age. He may be indefatigable in the Senate and on the stump, but in three dozen interviews, "He seems too old" was voiced frequently. "Especially among the seniors--and they're the ones who love to attend the caucuses--it's a big deal," says Larry Schmitz, the local radio station's news director. "We worry about Dole because we think we couldn't handle the job," says Don Law, 64, a county supervisor leaning to Gramm. "I'll bet some turn away from him in the end because of his age."
To whom, though? In the shops on Le Mars' main street, the buzz five weeks away from the caucuses is all about Steve Forbes, the multimillionaire whose TV and radio ads are everywhere. "They've got people talking about Dole being for tax increases and wasteful spending," says Ron Geiger, who runs a local food-distribution company. That and the idea that Dole can't beat Clinton "is a major problem," says Reynolds. "Of the others, Pat Buchanan has the true believers in tow, the types who'll vote even in a blizzard." Gramm too has significant local support, and his shopworn swipe at Dole's age ("I was a high school senior when he was in the Senate") tickled a crowd of about 70 people at Le Mars' Pantry Cafe last Friday.
Most experts view the G.O.P. nomination as Dole's to lose. In Le Mars, at least, he seems on the verge of doing just that. Someone else might not win outright, but if Dole's showing in Iowa falls below the 37% he won in '88 against a far stronger field, his predicted lock on the prize could break quickly.