Uncommitted

Whether genuinely baffled, simply supercautious or just plain ornery, U.S. primary voters continue to dangle the presidential nominations tantalizingly beyond the reach of all contenders. A victor's smile and glowing predictions seem only to ensure a comeuppance seven days later. As the primary trail nears an apparently inconclusive end, a clutch of uncommitted delegates to both Democratic and Republican Conventions has been dealt a hot--and potentially decisive--hand. They may well determine the 1976 nominees.

Although many of the powerful uncommitted are political bosses and officeholders, a substantial number are mainly middle-class Americans with long records of hard-slogging service to their parties--ringing doorbells, running Xerox machines, driving voters to the polls on election days. They include an air-pollution technician from Virginia, a haberdasher from Kansas, a housewife from Oklahoma and a community antipoverty organizer from New York. Some Governors, big-city mayors and state chairmen head uncommitted groups, but their persuasive powers may be lost on the individual delegates; many intend to vote their own consciences.

As of last week there were 455 uncommitted Democratic delegates and 201 Republicans. Those totals will grow in the final six primaries, and as fourteen states that choose delegates in caucuses complete that process. There will be some whittling away too as some uncommitted jump to a candidate.

Barring yet another surprise, President Ford and Ronald Reagan, each of whom won three primaries last week, will emerge from the delegate selection process just short of the 1,130 delegates required for the Republican nomination. Democrat Jimmy Carter is expected to be several hundred delegates short of the 1,505 needed to snare the prize.

If these figures hold, 100 to 150 uncommitted Republican delegates will have the power to do what 6 million G.O.P. primary voters apparently could not: choose between Ford and Reagan. From 200 to 300 Democratic uncommitted may open the door to Carter--or bring on a brokered convention that could outweigh eleven million votes cast in Democratic primaries.

The situations in both parties:

REPUBLICANS. Currently 67 Republican uncommitted are thought to be leaning to Reagan, 34 to Ford. The remaining 100 Republican uncommitted are considered wooable and winnable.

Many see little to choose ideologically between the two: both suit their conservative instincts just fine. Surprisingly few are holding out in hope of a job or other favor. A number miss in Ford the image of a decisive leader that they perceive in Reagan, and yet they are reluctant to discard an incumbent who they believe has performed passably well in difficult circumstances.

Of course, all want a nominee who can win in November and pull other Republicans into office with him. A Harris Poll in May showed Carter defeating Reagan decisively--53% to 34%. Carter's lead over Ford was only 47% to 43%. A New York Times/CB& survey taken just after the Michigan and Maryland primaries showed that Ford was stronger than Reagan in every region of the nation except the West. Reagan may be a smoother and more glamorous campaigner, but Ford has broader appeal, particularly among the Democrats and independents whom the minority party needs to capture if it is to prevail in November.

Although Ford is considered to be more electable than Reagan, many delegates insist that they are still uncommitted because the people who elected them have not made up their own minds. One such delegate is Fred O. Whaley, St. Louis, Republican city chairman, who savors his current situation and his independence. Says he: "I'm just sitting here listening. I'll talk to anyone." Reagan has phoned him twice, Ford once, but Whaley remains on the fence.

Perhaps the loneliest Republican so far is Calvin James, the only uncommitted member of the Kansas delegation (four are for Reagan, 29 for Ford). "I won't be pressured," insists James, a haberdasher whose constituents are largely farmers. Having resisted blandishments from both camps, he plans to wait until the convention in August to choose, after he has studied the farm policies of both candidates.

In Natchez, Miss., Gail Healy, a mother of four, is avoiding state party leaders who are strongly for Reagan. "I know how they feel, so I'm talking to my next-door neighbor, the clerk in the grocery store, a coach out at the school and my minister." But "the decision is mine." A day after her election, she got a call from someone identifying himself as President Ford; she dismissed it as a joke, but now is not so sure--especially since a "very, very nice" letter of congratulation arrived soon after from the President. Indeed, Ford has phoned many of the uncommitted.

In Brooklyn Salvatore Scotto, a funeral parlor owner, remained determinedly uncommitted last week when Vice President Nelson Rockefeller delivered 119 New York delegates to Ford. Says Scotto: "I'll be damned if I'm going to take sides until the candidates start talking about hard issues that affect South Brooklyn. The area is falling apart and needs some federal attention." A fellow Brooklynite, State Senator William T. Conklin, feels bound to remain uncommitted because "that's how I campaigned. If we all decided and announced now, what would be the point of having a convention?"

Across the country, Jim Brooks, a Bellingham, Wash., wood products manufacturer, muses: "Here I am looking at two conservative candidates and trying to decide. I like what I've heard from Reagan and I think Ford has done as good a job as could be expected with the Democratic Congress he has to work with."

DEMOCRATS. Closet Carter supporters among the Democratic uncommitted so far are known to be numerous, including almost all of the 75 from the South. The Georgian has the most persuasive arguments to press on them: his big bag of delegates has earned him the nomination. Still, most of the uncommitted want more detailed information on his stands before promising their votes. Outside the South, Humphrey retains a strong hold on the uncommitted.

Says Ray Jones, a Denver deputy district attorney: "We haven't flushed out the contenders' real positions on foreign policy and defense. The best way to get the specifics is to remain uncommitted." Alan Dixon, the Illinois state treasurer who heads a group of six uncommitted delegates, longs for a Humphrey nomination but fears the damage to the party if there is a brokered convention "after all these men have been out there, fighting it out." If Carter goes into the convention with 1,200 delegates, he says, "it would be a mistake to try to stop him." Dixon received a call from Carter while watching Kojak. "I lost a bit of the story line," he says, "but you don't tell a presidential candidate to call back because you're watching TV."

Robert Goldberg, a lawyer in Anchorage, Alaska, is waiting and watching. "When the point comes where one candidate can clearly win, we will likely throw our strength in his direction. I don't think that point has been reached yet." Goldberg notes that there is no hostility to Carter, the only candidate to visit the state in the past year. "All who met him were impressed, and if it looks like he can pull it together, he may be our man." Elaine Lavoie, communications director for a Massachusetts hotel chain, was elected as a Shriver delegate, now favors Udall, but would not be part of a stop-Carter movement. "I want to know more about Carter's stand on national health insurance and affirmative action," she says.

In any event, the task of choosing candidates, which began with the first caucus in January, seems certain to continue after the primaries and perhaps through multiple ballots at convention time. The drawn-out process underscores the fact that while candidates have struck sparks here and there, none in either party has yet set off a conflagration or even a major bonfire.

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