The Wallace Factor

In the years since his 1968 presidential campaign, George C. Wallace has taken on a comely new wife, an old job as Governor of Alabama, and a mod wardrobe to complement both. But on one point he has remained constant. The man who once stood in the schoolhouse door to prevent integration now wants to stand at the gate of the White House to prevent either major-party candidate from gaining entry except on Wallace's own terms. The only question that remains is not whether he will run, but which party will be hurt more by his presence in the campaign. In the early going at least, it will be the Democrats who suffer; Wallace is set to announce this week that he will run in Democratic primaries in Florida and Pennsylvania. The first blood will be drawn in the Florida contest.

Like the crowd of Democratic contenders out to upset Front Runner Edmund Muskie, Wallace has had his eye on the Florida sunshine since the state legislature voted last year to authorize a presidential primary. The Florida contest, on March 14, follows the opener in New Hampshire by just one week. With Maine's Muskie considered unbeatable in neighboring New Hampshire, the remaining Democrats have focused on Florida as the first opportunity to strike at his support: every major Democratic candidate will have a spot on the Florida ballot.

Wallace's prospects are brightened by the historical schizophrenia of Florida politics. The southern portion of the state, dominated by urban centers like Miami, has favored liberal candidates, while the less populous northern half has long been a stronghold of conservatism. During the 1968 presidential campaign, Wallace carried the three northernmost congressional districts in the state; overall, he ran barely 50,000 votes behind Hubert Humphrey. Notes Senator Scoop Jackson: "Northern Florida is Southern and southern Florida is Northern."

Wallace's candidacy is particularly damaging to Jackson's presidential hopes. Jackson has pinned much on a good showing in Florida, and must carry the northern districts to prove the appeal of his conservative campaign. Jackson and Wallace will fight it out in the north, while liberals Muskie, Humphrey, McGovern, Lindsay and Chisholm concentrate on the southern vote.

The probable result: a Wallace plurality. A poll taken last fall by the Florida Democratic Party showed Wallace carrying 24% of the vote, compared with Muskie's 20% and Jackson's 6%. Muskie advisers concede Wallace's strength and, as a result, may not make an all-out effort in Florida, preferring to spend money and workers in more favorable political climates.

Smoother Image. For now, Wallace is content with his prospects in Florida. But he is considering entering primaries in Maryland, Wisconsin and Indiana to nibble away blue-collar support from Democratic contenders while pitching a national campaign based on law-and-order, busing and the economic plight of the little man. The same appeal -- part populism, part demagoguery--won him 13.5% of the votes cast in 1968.

At the outset, Wallace is in a much better position to play the spoiler for both parties than he was four years ago. The arduous task of petitioning for inclusion on the ballot is largely behind him. A full-time campaign staff of 30--augmented by hundreds of volunteers--is already at work cranking out newsletters and magazines, planning fund-raising dinners and plotting strategy. Wallace will concentrate on regional television broadcasts instead of the helter-skelter personal campaigning of '68. To smooth his image, he has sought and received advice on television technique from Evangelist Billy Graham.

Still, the 1972 campaign should ultimately be more difficult for Wallace than '68. Republican strategists believe that President Nixon's stand against busing and his appointments to the Supreme Court will deny Wallace his two most emotional talking points.

On the Democratic side, economic unrest has replaced fear of crime as the major issue among blue-collar voters; many of those who voted for Wallace before should return to the Democratic fold. He has also lost support from the Democratic machines of the South. Lester Maddox and John Bell Williams have been replaced by more moderate leaders anxious to break the region out of its isolation (TIME, May 31). Yet the drawbacks neither dampen Wallace's enthusiasm for another campaign nor undermine his basic goal. He does not really expect to become President--just to keep forcing Southern strategies on anyone who wants to occupy the White House.

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