But the front runners don’t look so regal when they don their Woolrich shirts for the obligatory trips to New Hampshire. They tend to look like mortals in, say, Concord. In the Granite State House there, the pols see their beloved primary as the Khyber Pass of presidential politics. Over the years, caravans of “inevitable” candidacies have been blown to kingdom come by the likes of Fran Wendelboe, a bubbly member of the House who earns a living as a fraternity landlady. She is pro-life, wired to the max on the Internet and wore the only 2000 campaign button in the chamber last week. It was a big red one–for Elizabeth Dole. “Bush is nice, but Liddy is it!” she says. Downstairs in the cafeteria, the former Democratic Party chairman had friendly words of warning for Gore. “He can’t run standing behind a rope line,” said Jeffrey Woodburn. “He has to take some chances.”
Now that Monica is merchandise and former Clinton aides are becoming authors, Campaign 2000 is springing to life. Bush and Gore are the odds-on favorites to win their parties’ nominations, and lead comfortably in early national polls. The GOP yearns for a charming winner to supplant its dour congressional image–and Bush has the right look. As for Gore, he has only one opponent–former senator Bill Bradley–and a sitting vice president has never been denied the nomination if he was serious about getting it. So will the story of the 2000 race be one of famous sons ascending–or stumbling?
This time around, being a front runner is at once more beneficial–and more risky. Party endorsements mean less than ever, and the role of “independent” voters keeps growing in primaries, especially in New Hampshire. But the main reason front-runnerhood is dicey is the Y2K campaign schedule. Next year, two thirds of the delegates will be picked in a four-week dash that begins in Iowa and New Hampshire and climaxes a month later with a “national” primary that will stretch from California to Texas to Florida to New York.
To run nationwide and all at once, candidates must raise the cash in advance this time–an advantage for Bush and Gore and for billionaire Steve Forbes. But, burdened by expectations, the political big shots can blow it all in a minute–with no time to recoup–if they lose pivotal early contests. “Bush and Gore don’t know whether they are building a nuclear reactor or a nuclear bomb,” said GOP media consultant Mike Murphy. “If your message is ‘be for me, because I’m gonna win,’ you gotta win.”
There are advantages to being a front runner, and you may as well use them. For one, your national numbers look good. In the latest NEWSWEEK Poll, Bush has a fat 46-20 percent lead over his nearest rival, Elizabeth Dole, and he trounces Gore in a two-way matchup by a 57-36 percent margin. Those kinds of numbers help raise confidence–and money. Bush was expected to take a big step into the race on Sunday, announcing a 10-member “exploratory” committee with a carefully balanced roster (three women, two blacks, one Hispanic)–and justifiable hopes of raising $25 million to $30 million.
Front runners can make news, or step on other people’s stories. Gore’s New York City foray just happened to coincide with Bradley’s first major fund-raiser. Bush’s announcement dominated a week of news about his rivals’ debuts. Buchanan surprised conservative activists by launching a third bid. Dole, moving rapidly after a fitful start, will announce her own exploratory committee this week, and will go on the air with ads in Iowa and New Hampshire. (The ad, NEWSWEEK has learned, contains no footage of her husband.) Lamar Alexander this week announces his second run for the nomination.
New Hampshire is the place for challengers to topple overconfident, overstaffed, out-of-touch campaigns–as Bush and Gore know all too well. In 1992, kamikaze TV commentator Pat Buchanan got 37 percent of the New Hampshire GOP primary vote against President George Bush, exposing weaknesses that Bill Clinton later exploited. Now Buchanan is back to visit himself upon the next generation. Bush the Younger, at least so far, is not well prepared for the onslaught. He has never been there as a prospective candidate, is not scheduled to arrive as one until summer and has little on-the-ground organization in place. He is relying primarily on his father’s network, which is aging fast and in many cases is now based out of state. Nor will he be able to rely on the local governor, the way his father did in 1988. In that year, the then Gov. John Sununu moved heaven and earth–and enough votes–to help Bush the Elder squeak by. This time around, the Democrats control the governorship, and Sununu, who had a bitter falling-out with the Bush clan, is working for Dan Quayle.
Gore is equally aware of the history, especially of 1984. In that year a well-liked if somewhat lackluster former Democratic vice president–Walter Mondale–was upset by a brainy and somewhat aloof insurgent senator, Gary Hart. The parallel to an Al Gore-Bill Bradley race isn’t lost on Gore, who recently discussed them at length with the state’s Democratic governor, Jeanne Shaheen (who, ironically, launched her own career by leading Hart’s crusade). Gore will have the support of Shaheen, a shrewd and meticulous organizer, as well as Clinton, who continues to work the state as though he were running for sheriff.
But the Gore crowd is understandably antsy. For one, Bradley–on paper–is a perfect New Hampshire candidate: flinty, serious and judgmental. He can virtually take up residence in the state, and has. Gore supporters fret about the zero-sum nature of what has unexpectedly become a two-man race. If something unforeseen happens–a Y2K computer fiasco, a collapse of the market, stunning new revelations of Clinton wrongdoing–there is only one primary-season beneficiary: Bradley. To the annoyance of the Gore crowd, Democratic officials decided to hold a dinner next month, and Bradley immediately accepted the invitation. Gore, NEWSWEEK has learned, was invited, too–but isn’t expected to attend. Instead, he will hit the living rooms, appearing at three coffee klatsches on a single Saturday later this month.
Attention is nice, but can also become too much of a good thing. Gore is a known quantity, but the race is about to begin to define Bush before he defines himself. Party Chairman Jim Nicholson, in an address widely seen as designed to protect Bush, recently pleaded for civility in the GOP race; Bush is an emotional sort, and his enemies will try to make him explode. Buchanan, whom the Bush family genuinely loathes, will attack him as yet another preppy ornament of the establishment. Forbes’s allies will take shots at the former president’s budget deal, hoping to draw an angry retort from his son. Alexander has already called Bush’s rhetoric “mealy-mouthed,” and sneered at the notion of a GOP “tea party” next year.
But what do they want in the Granite State? In Washington, GOP leaders want a truce in the culture war. But in New Hampshire, where the economy is in good shape and antitax sentiment fading under a court order to raise money for schools, Republicans say that the key issues will be moral. “Post-Monica, I think moral leadership is going to be the No. 1 thing,” said GOP state chairman Steve Duprey. Voters, Governor Shaheen says, want to hear a “compelling vision” from the candidates. So far, she added, she hasn’t heard one from any of the contenders–including the front runners.
