A year of mayhem
Henry Fairlie
Washington At the end of the past ten days no one knows what to make of Edward Kennedy. At one moment he seems to be in; at the next to be out again. He has not always tested the waters as gingerly as this, and one must assume not only that his doubts are tormenting, but that their cause is primarily politicaland not personal.
The alleged need to have the permission of his family is an obfuscation. Four years ago he made as moving a remark as any in his life, when he was asked if the family would give its approval if he ran then. 'What is the family now?' he replied, 'just me and a lot of women.' In a close-knit and very masculine family, he has had a dominating father and all three elder brothers torn from his side, and there is no reason to doubt that he feels a responsibility for the not notably very stable members of it who still survive. But there is equally no reason to doubt that if the political road ahead was clear he would at once run for the presidency.
If he does get into the race now, squarely and fairly, the White House will in fact be grateful. It has understandably been made jittery by his equivocation, although one has often wondered what it has expected him to say: that he will cross that bridge when he comes to it? The whole macabre atmosphere was caught a few weeks eget)), Oliphant, perhaps the most brilliant and savage cartoonist in America, when he drew a picture of Kennedy driving a car headlong for a bridge, with President Carter cringing in panic in the back seat. As every politician knows all too well, you cannot shadow-box in this game. You cannot fight an opponent if he is not in the ring.
One can already feel the White House's relief that Kennedy may be coming clean. In fact in the past few days it has gone much further than anyone would have predicted: it has virtually said that Kennedy's candidacy will mean civil war in the Democratic Party, and that it is quite prepared to fight it as if it's civil war. Every political observer I know rubbed his eyes at the astonishing words that followed: they came from Pat Caddell, who is not only the resident pollster at the White House but also one of Carter's closest political advisers. The entry of Kennedy into the campaign, he said, 'would inevit-, ably pit the North against the South, the cities against the countryside, the liberals against the conservatives, and the Catholics against the Protestants.' It does not matter that this makes one wonder who would in fact be 'dividing the country, vertically and horizontally and diagonally, but it does matter that the White House is ready for a bitter fight which causes such divisions.
I have to admit that I enjoy the prospect of Jimmy Carter fighting for his life. I enjoy the fact that nothing now seems to go right for him, since so much is likely to go right for him in the new situation. I enjoy the thought that the meanness of the man — I have never shared the condescending view that he is nice — will produce a vicious political will to win. I enjoy the certainty that, whatever happens in the early primaries, he will carry the fight to the end. I have to admit in fact that I look forward to a year of mayhem.
It has always been predictable from the mere nature of the man that, even if the Convention seemed to be packed against him, he would not give up but wOuld challenge the Convention. It is too often forgotten that in the old days, before there were so many primaries and their verdict was taken to be decisive, incumbent presidents had often to face divided parties. What is interesting this week is that Tim Kraft, now the campaign manager for Carter, has said that the President will `go down to the wire'.
There are several things telling for him, if the battle goes as far as that, and one of them is procedural but vital. The delegates to the Democratic Convention are to be selected by proportional representation. This means that Carter does not have to make a clean sweep of a sufficient number of primaries in order to remain in the race. Even if he proved to be the underdog to Kennedy, he could still pile up enough votes for people not to count hint out, and for him then to challenge Kennedy at the Convention. Perhaps no less important, it is Kennedy as the challenger who must go to the Convention as a winner and to be seen early as the winner.
Even on this point Carter has an advantage. Not much of one, but none the less an advantage. Of the many early primaries in February and March which are important psychologically more than actually, the great majority are in states south of the Mason-Dixon line. Carter is not as strong in the south as in 1976, but the south certainly is not Kennedy country. The one way for the Democrats to he sure of losing the south in 1980 is to present not just this Kennedy but any Kennedy as its candidate. Here, more than anywhere, one of the strongest factors telling in Carter's favour will count. He will become more and more the rallying point for the Democrats wbo want to keep Kennedy out.
The plain fact is that, if Kennedy at last enters the race, Carter will of course be seriously threatened but the threat will strengthen him. Every Democrat who detests or fears Kennedy will move to Carter's side, because he is the only Democrat who could possibly defeat Kennedy for the nomination. This fact has so far been overlooked, but it is of course how politics work. Once there is an enemy — and especially the enemy who is most feared — Carter will find his allies.
There will at last be a down-to-earth physical reason for supporting him. Even if not with much enthusiasm, many will see him as the only saviour. Jerry Brown cannot defeat Kennedy. Walter Mondale cannot defeat Kennedy. Even Jane Fonda cannot defeat Kennedy. But ah! the incumbent president, still with some power in his hands, even though he has frittered so much of it away — a horse with at least a household name even if no one would place much money on it, in the manner in which politicians mix metaphors, that is a very different kettle of fish. By proclaiming civil war, Carter will exploit this to the full. I am not making any forecast so early. am not saying that he will win. I am not even saying that he ought to win. I am merely arguing that during the next few months he will have to contend with enemies and that we will see a very different Carter from the one whom we have become used to. It has been his besetting weakness as President that he will not make enemies — which is why he has so few friends after four years, since people support a President in ordel to strike at their enemies — and now he will be forced to make them, and use every weapon to bring them down. He has already strengthened his campaign by taking its management under Tim Kraft out of the White House to where the dirty work can be done while he can seem barely to notice the mud that is flying. Nevertheless, it is he who will be the gutter-snipe. It may be said that I am not being austere enough about so serious an occasion as a presidential election. But I have never known how one can come to grips with the serious issues of politics until one has had the chance to sec the fisticuffs. It is only when the candidates spread their legs apart in the gutter and begin to reach in the mud that one can see what the issues are and how they are mbectgeadtefisintehda. t Aasll al gutter-saiLipneg, at arttheer nedy. may surprisingly prove the equal of Ken
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