So Much For The Mystique

By Karen Tumulty/Silver Spring; Matthew Cooper; Mitch Frank/ Danbury

Maryland The close race for Governor provides fresh evidence that the name Kennedy is no longer an asset

Was it only a few months ago that Kathleen Kennedy Townsend seemed so unbeatable that no big-name Democrat would challenge her? With millions pouring into her campaign coffers, Townsend seemed to have a lock on this year's election for Maryland Governor. When Townsend's aunt Eunice Kennedy Shriver threw her a $10-a-head fund raiser last year, traffic backed up for more than a mile, as 5,000 people clamored for an afternoon of Kennedy glamour. And the Governor's mansion was seen as a way station: it was just a matter of time, the pundits were saying, until Bobby Kennedy's eldest landed a spot on a national ticket.

So not many paid attention when little-known Republican Congressman Robert Ehrlich jumped into the race last March. Maryland is so Democratic, it has not elected a Republican Governor since Spiro Agnew in 1966. But a poor campaign has hurt Townsend, who is currently lieutenant governor. Polls last week showed Ehrlich with a slight though statistically insignificant lead. The race is suddenly being viewed as a test of whether being a Kennedy is still a political advantage.

Ehrlich has pronounced that legacy "dead." And while being a Kennedy doesn't hurt with fund raising and publicity, the name doesn't evoke the magic it once did. Maryland legislator Mark Shriver, Townsend's cousin, lost a congressional primary earlier this month, while Andrew Cuomo, her brother-in-law, abandoned his bid for New York's Democratic gubernatorial nomination even before primary day.

That leaves Townsend the last Kennedy standing in this year's races for higher office. (Cousin Patrick, Teddy's son, seems safe in his bid for re-election as a Rhode Island Congressman.) But her campaign has faltered: her choice of a white running mate was considered an insult to African-American voters, who constitute almost 30% of the electorate, especially after Ehrlich picked the state's black G.O.P. chairman for his ticket. And her association with Governor Parris Glendening has saddled her with some blame for next year's projected $1.3 billion deficit. Last week she had to fire a consultant who called Ehrlich a "Nazi."

Just as damaging is the perception that she is a clumsy campaigner who somehow failed to inherit the family's political touch. What was lost in the growing sense of inevitability that surrounded her candidacy was the fact that she had never won election on her own. In 1986 she ran for Congress and lost, making it into office on Glendening's ticket eight years later. Her syntax is Bush-like, rather than Kennedyesque. Appearing at aretirement community last week, she acknowledged a politician's support by saying, "Thank you that for" and inviting the audience togive him "a rounding of applause."

But she doesn't lack the Kennedy appetite for a good fight. As she worked the Democratic Club at the Leisure World retirement community in Silver Spring, Townsend scattered barbs at Ehrlich, who she insists is far more conservative than his image. "He wanted to privatize Social Security," she warned the seniors, who were polishing off their fried chicken. "Do you want your money in the stock market? I don't think so!"

Ehrlich's campaign, too, has had its troubles. Though he portrays himself as a moderate (he has been elected four times in a largely Democratic congressional district), his stated willingness to re-examine Maryland's tough gun-control laws could hurt him in Washington's key liberal suburbs. The race is certain to get uglier. "We're ready for it," Ehrlich says. In other words, Toto, we're not in Camelot anymore. --By Karen Tumulty/Silver Spring

Arkansas THE FAMILY BUSINESS

The skies may be quiet over Baghdad, but for the citizens of Arkansas the air war has already begun. Each night, TV viewers are bombarded by ads from the state's two Senate candidates, Democrat Mark Pryor and the incumbent, Republican Tim Hutchinson. Since airtime can be bought relatively cheaply in this poor, rural state, local folks are seeing more political ads this year than just about anyone elsewhere. Democrats rap Hutchinson on corporate responsibility. Republicans call Pryor a tax raiser. And on it goes. Each side is pouring millions into the race; President Bush has been here four times to bolster first-term Hutchinson. The contest is too close to call.

Both candidates come from prominent political families. Pryor's father David was a beloved Senator, who remains so popular that even Hutchinson calls him a "beautiful model for being kind and gentlemanly in a way that Arkansans appreciate." Mark Pryor, for his part, snarls that "there are not many similarities between Tim Hutchinson and David Pryor." Hutchinson's brother Asa was a popular Congressman and now heads Bush's Drug Enforcement Administration.

Hutchinson's personal life has raised eyebrows. The Baptist minister left his wife in 1999. Within a year he had married a younger former staff member. The issue will probably not be decisive--Bill Clinton's Arkansas is not unfamiliar with political peccadilloes--but it is not helping Hutchinson, even as he sounds the familiar refrain that voters should judge him on the totality of his career.

Pryor has managed to neutralize Iraq as an issue, saying he supports the President. That lets him concentrate on pocketbook issues in a state that, like much of the country, is feeling some pain. "The economy bothers me," says waitress Melissa Hart, as she serves up a foot-long chili dog at Town Pump, a Little Rock suds-and-sandwich shop. "It is sucking. And we need some change." That kind of attitude puts Hutchinson in a bind. Pryor notes, for instance, that the Republican has repeatedly voted against raising the minimum wage. Hutchinson counters that expanding the earned-income tax credit would be a better way to help the working poor, but he acknowledges that it's a complex argument: "Voters don't want to hear an economics lesson." If he can't find a better way to explain why he's the model for economic change, Hutchinson, the first G.O.P. Senator from Arkansas in more than 100 years, may be the last for some time. --By Matthew Cooper. With reporting by Steve Barnes/Little Rock

Connecticut GOLIATH VS. GOLIATH

Most congressional races are mismatches. Incumbents tend to have bank accounts and name recognition that few challengers can match. But once a decade or so, redistricting forces a pair of incumbents into the same district to fight for one seat. That's what is happening in Connecticut, where two heavyweight pols are locked in the fight of their careers. Come November, one will suddenly be bumped from power.

"It's fun," contends Nancy Johnson, the Republican candidate. "It's much the same as my previous races," says Democratic opponent Jim Maloney. Don't buy the cheery bravado. This is not just a battle for political survival; the winner could well deliver control of the House to his or her party.

Sure, all 435 seats are up for grabs Nov. 5, but fewer than a dozen races are likely to be close. When the parties drew up new districts this year, they largely obeyed a time-honored principle of mutually assured incumbency. But the latest Census resulted in Connecticut's losing a House district, so state lawmakers merged Maloney's and Johnson's. Their race and the few other toss-ups will decide whether Dick Gephardt will take over the Speaker's gavel. The most recent poll has Johnson leading 44% to 39% among likely voters. She has built that small lead while greatly outspending Maloney. At last count, she had raised more than $2 million; he had a quarter of that. She has used the cash primarily to buy more TV ads, a necessity, since she has to introduce herself to his half of the district.

Speaking to voters in Waterbury last week, Johnson produced a three-foot stack of papers--bills she has written and shepherded into law in the six years Maloney has been in Washington. Johnson, who has served 20 years, is a high-ranking member of the Ways and Means Committee. Next to her pile was Maloney's: one two-page law. (He says he took the lead on at least two others.)

Maloney would rather talk about issues. There are 13,000 more registered Democrats than Republicans in the district, and he is trying to convince them that Johnson is a conservative in moderate dress. But he is getting little traction on key issues such as the economy, Social Security and health care. Johnson sponsored the Republican version of a Medicare prescription-drug plan, leaving Maloney at pains to explain why the Democrats' version is better.

Maloney hoped to gain from concerns about corporate greed when local hardware company Stanley Works considered reincorporating in Bermuda to reduce taxes. He sponsored a bill to end the practice. Johnson countered with one that would put a three-year moratorium on such moves. Johnson's G.O.P. colleagues on the Ways and Means Committee then tried to block Maloney from testifying for his bill.

Expect more hardball from both sides. After all, a real contest is a rare thing in the House this year. --By Mitch Frank/Danbury

With reporting by Steve Barnes/Little Rock