Humphrey: The Juices Are Moving

For months he had been studiously neutral and quietly hoping, but last week Hubert Humphrey started making some moves to help his own chances in the Democratic race. TIME National Political Correspondent Robert Ajemian traveled with Humphrey and sent this report:

Hubert Humphrey, a man whose future plans have a lot of people guessing, walked jauntily into Manhattan's 21 Club one night last week and had a hard time making his way toward a table. People stopped him along the way, shaking his hand, wishing him well. He was the center of attention and, as always, it pleased him. When he finally sat down, his host, Publisher Jerry Finkelstein, an influential local Democrat, leaned over and commented on this impromptu reception, telling Humphrey that he is by far the most popular Democrat in the state. "I made one mistake, Jerry," Humphrey said in a candid response. "I should have entered this primary. New York is where I could have shown my strength."

Risky Course. The remark was one sign of Humphrey's uncomfortable realization that he is now at the mercy of events that he did not count on. His hopes of becoming the Democratic candidate without running in the primaries were in serious danger.

Determined not to go through another punishing primary campaign, Humphrey had been relaxed with his decision to stay out of more battles. It had always been a somewhat risky course, but it also had seemed to be good strategy. The less eager Humphrey appeared, the more popular he became. Politicians spoke knowingly of a deadlocked convention with Humphrey as the ultimate candidate.

Jimmy Carter changed all that. As he began winning primaries, Humphrey's serene life became turbulent. After Carter took New Hampshire, labor leaders started urging Humphrey to enter the race. After the Massachusetts primary, the liberals began calling. After Carter won Florida, Illinois and North Carolina, everybody called: Governors, Congressmen, party leaders. When the polls showed Carter pulling even with Humphrey, the phone almost rang off the hook. Says Dave Gartner, Humphrey's top aide: "We've got a thousand campaign managers out there."

Humphrey watched the Carter gains with increasing discomfort. It didn't help when Carter had a press conference and called the Senator too old and a loser and even untruthful. So last week Humphrey began to edge out from behind his "non-candidacy."

He flew into Wisconsin, where Mo Udall's campaign against Carter seemed to be lagging and close friends report Humphrey agreed they should support the Arizonan. He was unable to resist flying into New York where he gave an exhilarating speech to a conference of U.S. mayors, overshadowing earlier appearances by Carter, Udall and Scoop Jackson.

Then he made two moves, one abortive, the other surprisingly bold. Viewed together they illuminate his dilemma. The first began when he got a call from a key ally in New York. In the Buffalo area, powerful Erie County Chairman Joseph Crangle had entered three uncommitted "pro-Humphrey" slates in the primary. Crangle warned Humphrey that they were in danger of losing to Carter slates and asked the Senator to make a trip to Buffalo to whip up local enthusiasm. After thinking it over carefully, Humphrey decided to go.

But Jackson's campaign managers heard about it and in a rage called the Humphrey staff. When that didn't bring any results, Jackson phoned Humphrey and complained. "The problem," says one Humphrey adviser, "is not to undercut Jackson. We want him to hold off Carter." Humphrey canceled the trip.

The second move was far more daring--and potentially dangerous. "But his juices are moving now," says one of his team. Humphrey's office gathered a list of names in search of a person to lead a drive for delegates all over the country. The man who is to do the job --though indeed the whole plan could be dropped if it causes a flap--is Robert Short, a fellow Minnesotan who was treasurer of the Democratic National Committee during Humphrey's 1968 presidential campaign. Short, a trucking millionaire who used to own the Washington Senators, is considered by some to be too politically unsavvy for such a big undertaking. "It's the old woodwork problem," says one Washington veteran. "Hubert takes on these hometown types who are not heavyweights."

Stay Uncommitted. Short would do the hard work, the plan goes, but that bald fact would be obscured somewhat by two big-name Minnesota supporters, Governor Wendell Anderson and Senator Walter Mondale, who would be co-chairmen of the committee. They are ready, if Humphrey gives the word, to start work at the end of this month, at the latest. The objective: to deliver a clear message to party leaders and delegates around the country to stay uncommitted until the convention--because Humphrey means business. "There is a fear," says one Humphrey backer, "that this might be seen strictly as an anti-Carter operation. That would be awful because it's really not Humphrey's position. He wants to keep things open if he still can."

Humphrey has been puzzled by Carter's recent attacks. Riding in a plane from Wisconsin to Washington, he talked about the Georgian, a man much on his mind these days: "I think it's foolish, sort of dumb, for him to say things like that about me. He may need me later on.

"He's developed a mystique about him," he said. "There are certain things I like about Carter. He is full of confidence. And the fact that he is a Southerner works to his advantage the same way that Catholicism turned into an advantage for Kennedy. People react against prejudice."

Then, looking out the window, he said: "Maybe I should have gone into this thing earlier." But he quickly caught himself. "I made my decision not to enter these primaries," he added emphatically, as if he were taking himself in hand. "I'm not going to change now. I've got a peace of mind I never had before, no matter what happens to me."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.