Mellower Mood

When Dallas Lawyer-Businessman Robert Strauss was elected chairman of the Democratic National Committee (TIME, Dec. 18), many McGovernites prepared for the worst. They expected him to do to them what they had done to so many of their adversaries in the party--dump them. But that is not his style of politics. Since his election three weeks ago, he has been trying to bring some cohesion to the fractured Democrats. In fact, he wants the party to be a family ball. "Goddam!" he says. "Let's make this party a place where you can have a laugh and a drink again."

Already he has created a mellower mood among Democrats. Although identified with the conservative Texas faction, he has pledged not to try to repeal the reforms that have given greater clout to minorities, women and young people. He announced that he would fill nine of the committee's 25 at-large posts with blacks--not a matter of quotas, he insists, but recognition of the heavy black Democratic vote in November. He backed Oregon State Chairman Caroline Wilkins for vice chairman over the wives of prominent politicians. "I want a strong, visible woman," says Strauss, "not just somebody's wife."

Moving. He has appointed his McGovernite predecessor, Jean Westwood, to the Charter Commission, which has the job of setting up a mid-term party convention in 1974. George Meany, one of Strauss's principal backers, is unhappy with United Auto Workers President Leonard Woodcock because he supported McGovern. But Strauss will keep Woodcock as chairman of the Commission on Delegate Selection.

"I want this party to start improving a quarter-of-an-inch a day," he declares. To date, he has covered considerably more territory than that. As soon as he was elected chairman, he chatted with McGovern and Ted Kennedy. Last week he saw George Wallace and made plans to talk to George Meany, Edmund Muskie and Humphrey. "The first thing we've got to do," he says, "is to take the bitterness and rancor out of our political discourse. It started at Chicago in 1968 and it has never abated."

To point up the change in party outlook, Strauss plans to move committee headquarters out of the ill-fated Watergate apartment-office complex when the lease expires in February. Not only were Democratic offices bugged but the location is too opulent, he thinks, to house the party of the people. Strauss had told his aides to look for a replacement closer to Capitol Hill, where Democratic strength lies.

How Strauss will handle his troublesome old pal John Connally is a larger question mark. He says that he will ask Connally to become more active in Democratic party affairs--assuming Connally does not bolt permanently to the Republicans. Some associates have reported a certain coolness between the Texas buddies, but they still share a lake house where their families vacation together and the two pols sip whisky and swap yarns.

Growing Up. A few of the McGovernites were in Strauss's corner to begin with; others are now coming around. Says Ted Van Dyk, who formulated issues for McGovern: "Strauss means it when he says that he's no ideologue. He's uncomfortable when discussion gets beyond the fact that it's better to elect a Democrat than a Republican." Reflecting on the Strauss victory, Journalist Stephen Schlesinger, son of Historian Arthur remarks: "Maybe the most important story here is that the McGovernites have grown up. A few months ago, we would have been wailing over something like this."

Strauss's jovial persona is the kind of tonic the Democrats need in an otherwise cheerless time. Strauss, 54, is the striving son of a Texas dry-goods merchant. He has been an adept moneymaker both for himself and the Democrats; he is also a man who can--and often does--call someone a "sonabitch" without having to smile. It is the other person, in fact, who smiles or even laughs.

Rising at 5 or 6 in the morning, he drives hard during the daylight hours until late afternoon, when he drops everything to relax. He likes to play poker or go to the races. Nobody has understood why he built a swimming pool at his Dallas home since he rarely goes near the water. Strauss explains: "Because I like to come home after a hard day at the office, pour myself a martini, open the blinds, look out on that pool and say: 'Strauss, you are one rich sonabitch.' " And everybody smiles.

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