Rendezvous with Destiny: Ronald Reagan and the Campaign that Changed America

by Shirley, Craig

  Attacks by Communist leaders may have helped Reagan with voters, but the foreign-policy establishment was in high dudgeon, convinced that Reagan simply didn't understand. Establishmentarians thought that his notions of morality and righteous indignation over Communist aggression were out of touch with the modern world. Sophisticated people didn't think in such black-and-white terms. The “striped-pants set” at the State Department didn't approve of Reagan, whom they viewed as a simpleton and a cowboy. Strobe Talbott of Time magazine (who would later become a key Clinton administration adviser on Russian affairs) reflected the prevailing attitudes about Reagan within the foreign-policy establishment. Talbott called Reagan's anticommunism “visceral, unequivocal and global,” a “Manichaean view of a struggle between the forces of light and the forces of darkness [that] is … old-fashioned and yet also very much back in fashion.”4

  But Reagan did not back off his anti-Soviet views. He sat down for a two-hour meeting with the editors of the Washington Post and elaborated that his plan for a military buildup would put undue strain on the Soviet economy and “force the Soviets to the arms control bargaining table.” Nor did he back down when questioned about an apparent conflict of interest within his campaign: it had been disclosed that two of his close aides, Mike Deaver and Peter Hannaford, had a long-standing lobbying contract with Taiwan. Coming to Deaver and Hannaford's defense, Reagan told the Post, “Hell, I was the one who was selling them on Taiwan.”5

  THE DEAVER-HANNAFORD FLAP WASN'T the only public-relations headache for the Reagan campaign. Eyebrows were raised when it was revealed that Frank Sinatra had listed Reagan as a character reference in an application to buy a casino in Las Vegas.6 Sinatra had long been rumored to have close ties to organized crime, and newspaper stories and photos started to appear about the shady characters—“wise guys” with pinkie rings and surnames that ended in vowels—who were good buddies of the “Chairman of the Board.”

  Reagan advisers surely would have preferred to avoid another round of bad press, but in fact Sinatra and Reagan had a lot in common. They were roughly the same age and they had both been New Deal–worshipping, Democratic Party liberals in their youth. Walter Winchell and other newspaper columnists had smeared Sinatra in the 1940s as a Communist. Sinatra had been particularly close to the Kennedys, pulling many strings to help get his friend and party-mate Jack elected in 1960. But after the election, Bobby Kennedy's callous and ungrateful treatment of Sinatra, as well as the advent of the rock 'n' roll counterculture, soured Sinatra on anything that smacked of liberalism. The Kennedys had broken his heart; the Beatles and their ilk had threatened his career. Sinatra rejected those on the Left who had rejected him, and he embraced the Republicans.

  Despite the Reagan campaign's continuing hiccups, Jimmy “The Greek” Snyder, the famous Vegas oddsmaker, was laying odds on the Gipper to win in November and to choose George Bush as his running mate.7 The folks who published the New Webster Encyclopedic Dictionary seemed to agree. Their new edition listed Reagan as the fortieth president, despite the fact that the encyclopedia was released in the summer of 1980, when the election was still months away.8

  REAGAN GRUDGINGLY DECIDED TO keep Bill Brock as chairman of the Republican National Committee. Stories had been leaking out yet again that Brock's days were numbered. Jerry Carmen had written a scathing report about Brock's stewardship of the committee, and Carmen had a powerful ally in Paul Laxalt, who wanted Brock ousted. Brock, however, whipped up a public-relations campaign to fight off the insurgency, persuading elected officials and friends to contact Reagan to plead for clemency. They included Jack Kemp, Bill Timmons, and Howard Baker.9 The gambit worked.

  Reagan did not, however, give Brock carte blanche. He installed another aide—Drew Lewis, from his Pennsylvania operation—as his eyes and ears at the RNC to ensure that the committee worked in good faith for his election and to “ride herd” on Brock, according to Ed Meese.10 Moreover, two other irritants to the Reaganites, RNC cochair Mary Dent Crisp and top aide Ben Cotten, were severely marginalized, though not fired as the conservatives wanted.

  Brock had already written the loquacious Crisp a memo warning that she “should adopt the lowest profile possible.” She had become an embarrassment: she had claimed her offices at the RNC were bugged, but when police investigated they discovered that the wires in question were part of the building's Muzak system. Frustrated, Brock now ordered Crisp not to talk to the press, and two events in her honor scheduled for the convention were canceled. Rumors still ran that the Reagan-loathing Crisp was on the verge of endorsing John Anderson.11

  Brock was bloodied and slightly bowed, but the fact that he was still at the RNC came down as a big loss for Carmen, Laxalt, and Lyn Nofziger, who had been gunning for Brock since the Panama Canal fight. Reagan's close confidant Ed Meese had also supported Brock's ouster, but had been less public about it than the other three.

  The Democrats were coping with their own internecine fighting. Jimmy Carter's aides referred to Ted Kennedy as a “fat, spoiled, rich kid.” Teddy's staff returned the kindness, calling Carter “that redneck Southern Baptist.”12

  Carter was struggling to get support. In Miami, he was booed lustily, obscene gestures were made in his direction, and bottles were thrown at his motorcade—including his own limousine—by out-of-work blacks. One sign read, “Hail to the Chief Racist.”13 In Washington, his proposal for a new oil import fee was pilloried by members of his own party. At an event on the South Lawn, Carter asked his fellow Democrats for a round of applause supporting the proposal but “the silence was so resounding the English boxwood could be heard growing,” in the words of the New York Times.14

  Though Carter labeled Reagan's economic proposals as “facile” and “ideological nonsense,” he hinted at minor tax cuts and budget cuts to stimulate the economy, a plan that sounded suspiciously like a pale version of “Reaganomics.”15 This time the president was undercut by a member of his own cabinet. Commerce Secretary Philip M. Klutznick said that he “saw no possibility” for tax cuts in 1980.16 Federal taxes were scheduled for another rise in January 1981, up billions.

  Reagan's men, especially his new ad team, led by Peter Dailey, were only now starting work on their own anti-Carter themes. After four years, there was an embarrassment of riches for the Republicans to mine against the incumbent, but the Gipper's campaign was drifting. Dailey, though talented, was getting little direction from Bill Casey.

  Reagan had won the nomination, and now no one seemed to know what to do to gear up for the summer and fall campaigns. The first tier of advisers—Meese, Casey, and Dick Wirthlin—was talented, but the only media schmoozer on the team was Nofziger, who was irreverent to the point of sometimes making jokes at his candidate's expense. With no national political director in place, regional directors went without guidance and the campaign was downright listless. The candidate was being poorly briefed or not at all. The Reagan campaign was making embarrassing mistakes, too. The Gipper had been invited to address the annual meeting of the NAACP, but Reagan's scheduling office and the RNC dropped the ball and left the invitation unanswered for weeks.17 By the time the mishap was discovered, there was nothing to do except to politely decline. Carter, Kennedy, and Anderson all spoke before the influential group. The Reagan campaign scrambled to accept the invitation of another African-American organization, the Urban League.18

  Reagan was in New York for important editorial board meetings with the New York Times, but the aides there were vacillating. Reagan was angry, telling them he didn't want any “yes men” around him and “that if they did not level with him, he would take drastic physical retaliation against them.”19

  Efforts to bring in a top political director were also ineffectual. Bill Timmons had been brought aboard to direct the convention, but was unavailable to help with anything else. Charlie Black, who had been fired four months earlier, was offering his services to come back, but no one was returning his phone calls. John Sears's onetime protégé David
Keene, Bush's former political director, had made too many enemies in the Reagan camp to be seriously considered. He had been “blackballed” by a few Reagan advisers, reported the Wall Street Journal.20 And Mrs. Reagan had never been fond of him. Years later, at a Washington dinner, when told she would be seated between Keene and conservative polemicist Pat Buchanan, Mrs. Reagan rolled her eyes heavenward and said sarcastically, “Oh great!”

  The Reagan team eventually wised up and let it be known that Timmons, once his duties were done at the convention, would become the campaign's de facto political director.21 The national media liked the soft-spoken Tennessean. He was seen as conservative, but not someone likely to grab you by the lapels. The media backed down on the issue of Reagan's campaign staff—for a time.

  JOHN ANDERSON'S INDEPENDENT QUEST was qualifying for the ballot in more and more states, so the Democratic National Committee set up a $225,000 fund to stop Anderson from succeeding any further.22 DNC chairman John C. White, normally unflappable, charged that Anderson and Reagan had hatched a “plot” to stick it to Carter.23 Nothing could have been further from the truth; Anderson thought Reagan was not up to the challenge, while Reagan returned Anderson's malice, telling a group of editors that the only Anderson “difference” was “an ego trip.”24

  The real question was who would be hurt more by Anderson's continued presence, Reagan or Carter? Anderson did not shy away from attacking Reagan. In a speech before the New York Stock Exchange, Anderson made several nasty references to Reagan's age. “I wasn't old enough, maybe he was, to remember what things were like in 1923 and 1924, but it isn't appropriate for the problems we have to face in 1980.” Some of the brokers booed Anderson.25

  But much of Anderson's impact would hinge on how Reagan campaigned. If Reagan ran a typical Republican race, then Anderson, the Republican, would take votes away from him. If, however, Reagan ran a conservative race, then Anderson, the liberal, would take votes away from Carter.

  The independent posed a threat to Carter in another way: The dour Anderson was working the same “woe-is-us” patch of earth that Carter had been hoeing for the previous four years. In the words of Newsweek, Anderson specialized in “brooding, son-of-malaise sermons everywhere about the decline of American optimism and the need for discipline and sacrifice.”26

  In addition to worrying about Anderson, the Carter campaign still had to deal with Kennedy. Although the Democratic nomination was now out of his reach, Kennedy refused to go away. He went so far as to hint that he might not campaign for the president's reelection. Carter was losing much of his essential constituency in the South, with blue-collar workers, Catholics, and evangelicals, but it remained to be seen whether the Republicans could get out of their own way and take advantage of his problems. Carter's men understood this. “Carter may not be able to win this election, but Reagan sure can lose it,” one said. Their plan was simple: to “scare the hell out of them with Ronald Reagan.”27

  Most polls over the spring of 1980 had the race close, swinging back and forth between Carter and Reagan. In the states, it was just as close. Carter was ahead in sixteen states and the District of Columbia with 154 electoral votes, and Reagan was ahead in twenty-two states with 160 votes. Twelve states with 224 electoral votes were too close to call.28

  With the stakes so high and with Carter's campaign struggling, the president's chief of staff, Hamilton Jordan, took a leave of absence from the White House and assumed command of the reelection committee. Jordan knew what Carter needed to do. He needed to slice and dice Reagan before the Gipper could get going in earnest with his own national campaign. As the Wall Street Journal noted at the time in an editorial, “Dr. Jimmy Carter is fixing to carve up Mr. Reagan and show the voters he hasn't got what it takes to be President.”29

  AS JORDAN BEGAN TO make his battle preparations, the Republicans held the first of a series of “unity dinners.” The $500-per-plate dinner in Beverly Hills featured Reagan alongside his six former challengers. The event was designed to pay off the fallen challengers' campaign debts. Not surprisingly, then, love was in the air. George Bush called Reagan an “honorable, honest, decent man.” Bob Dole, the stand-up comic of the GOP, said his own campaign was “such a secret that nobody noticed it.” Reagan spoke last and said of his former rivals, “You have seen six examples of real class, real dignity, real sportsmanship.”30

  The event raised $550,000, but as it turned out, little would go to retire campaign debts after all. A bait-and-switch was employed. The money would pay for a national television broadcast in which donations would be solicited. If money came in from this, only then would it go toward the various candidates' debts.31 The extravaganza was broadcast on CBS the following Saturday at 10:30 P.M. eastern time.

  Reagan had the backing of most of his family members as well as former opponents. Son Michael and daughter Maureen enthusiastically participated in their father's campaign. Mike had even played a role in the dismissal of John Sears. When his father called him in frustration from New Hampshire, Michael had advised Reagan to fire Sears.32 Maureen, meanwhile, was an active campaigner, giving well-received stump speeches. She was a natural politician, some said even more so than her father.

  The other two children, son Ron and daughter Patti Davis, were not involved to any great extent, pursuing their own lives and interests. Ron had dropped out of Yale and in 1980 was trying out for the Joffrey Ballet. The campaign was worried about the image of a ballet-dancing son of a rugged movie hero but decided to leave well enough alone. Reagan was asked about his son and, like any protective father, replied that he was “all man.” Patti was a struggling actress. She took her mother's maiden name for the stage and grew up a typical California flower child, pursuing fads, partying with rock stars, and generally irritating her parents. She loathed her father's conservatism.

  Reagan did get a boost from Republicans in Congress. Working in harmony with the Reagan campaign, the GOP members introduced an immediate across-the-board 10 percent tax cut, a down payment on the 30 percent being proposed by their presumptive nominee.33 The ploy forced Carter and the Democrats to go on record opposing Reagan's proposal. On permanent offense, the Republicans kept attaching tax-cut legislation to bill after bill, compelling the Democrats to oppose them over and over.

  CARTER'S MEN WERE LOOKING for inspiration and they turned to Harry Truman, just as Gerald Ford had four years earlier. A new book had been released on Truman, and circulated in Democratic circles was a 1948 memo about Truman's campaign written by the longtime Washington insider Clifford Case.34

  Democrats needed all the help they could get, because in a new poll released at the end of June, Reagan for the first time had broken into a healthy lead over Carter. The New York Times/CBS survey had Reagan out in front, 47–37, and even with Anderson in the mix, Reagan still led with 41 percent to 30 percent for Carter and 18 percent for the independent candidate. Reagan also got high ratings on leadership and—defying the pundits—the voters said that Reagan was as smart as Carter. College graduates supported Reagan over Carter by a larger margin, 48–35, than non–college graduates, 47–37.35 A poll by News-week showed a similar strengthening of Reagan's position with the American people.36

  Nothing monumental had occurred in the past several weeks to turn the tide. Reagan had, of course, won the nomination, but he had made few speeches during that time. Simply, Carter was floundering, and the voters were tiring of the president. They were willing to look at Reagan's solutions, no matter how radical they might seem.

  REAGAN'S SELECTION TEAM HAD narrowed the number of prospective running mates down to eight. All were asked for, and submitted, extensive medical, personal, and financial documents. They included Howard Baker, George Bush, Jack Kemp, Don Rumsfeld, Richard Lugar, Paul Laxalt, and one surprise, Congressman Guy Vander Jagt of Michigan.37 Vander Jagt was of indistinct ideology but had done a yeoman's job retooling the National Republican Congressional Committee. He was not only charming but also one of the best orators in po
litics. He never used a prepared text or teleprompter. Instead, he memorized his speeches, some of them extensive.

  Conservatives heaved a sigh of relief that Gerald Ford was not on the list. Yet they worried because the list indicated that the Reagan campaign was searching for someone more “moderate” than Reagan, despite his oft-repeated comments that his running mate would have to be of the same ideological stock. Conservatives complained about Howard Baker the most. Baker didn't help his cause when he went on CBS's Face the Nation and said what the country needed in a president was “not necessarily the most cerebral, the most intellectual person.” Implying that Reagan lacked a first-rate intellect was not a way to win over the Reagan campaign, Nancy Reagan, or conservatives.38 For good measure, Baker and poor George Bush got the virtual kiss of death from the liberal Republican senator Jacob Javits, who said he supported either as Reagan's running mate.39

  AT THE BEGINNING OF July, a new report on the TV networks' political coverage confirmed what everybody knew: CBS, NBC, and ABC were slobbering all over John Anderson. The Media Analysis Project, generated by George Washington University, said that “Anderson is an articulate, liberal spokesman and … the press also regards itself as articulate and liberal.” One interesting finding was that Carter was getting even worse coverage than Reagan. But it was not as if the Republican was receiving good media, just less bad than Carter. Stories about Reagan on the networks ran 6–1 unfavorable to favorable.40