Some Soared, Some Sank

WINNERS & LOSERS

As inflatable as balloons--and as easily punctured--political reputations tend to rise dramatically, sink or even collapse at national conventions. Some who rose and some who fell last week:

JOHN CONNALLY, 59, was the most apparent loser. Usually a spellbinder, he hurried through a strangely flat address to an underwhelmed convention. His peroration was so gloomy that he sounded like a Texas Spengler: "How long this civilization, this free society of America will exist, I do not know."

He was scrubbed from vice-presidential consideration in the late rounds, and many moderate Republicans echo George Hinman, a longtime aide to Nelson Rockefeller: "Connally has been shot down. There's no future for him."

Not so, argue many conservatives, who agree with Billy Mounger, vice chairman of the Mississippi delegation. "If he goes out and builds up political lOUs," says Mounger, "he's going to be ready four years from now." Connally does not want to become Ford's campaign manager, which he considers a job for a technician, not a statesman of his stature. Besides, he doubts Ford-Dole can win. Still, Connally will visit nearly 100 congressional districts in 72 days to stump for candidates for Governor and Congress. The same tactic was used successfully in the 1966 election by Richard Nixon, who rose from the bone yard by crisscrossing the country to speak for candidates and build up political credits. Connally's wheeler-dealer image and milk-fund taint, which did much to frustrate his vice-presidential hopes, may well block his presidential ambitions in 1980. But Big John is so tough, resilient and resourceful that no one can count him out for good.

RICHARD SCHWEIKER, 50, Reagan's implausible liberal choice as a running mate, helped the Californian not at all and damaged his own great ambitions to become an important party leader or, one day, President. By eagerly embracing almost all of Reagan's positions and promising to disavow the previous pro-labor stands that had made him a darling of the AFL-CIO, Schweiker came across as an opportunist. He spent most of his time in the campaign vainly trying to explain his complete flipflop.

Schweiker lobbied hard among Pennsylvania's 103 delegates and declared that at least 23 would support Reagan. Only ten did--fewer than had been projected before Schweiker was added to the ticket. When his longtime friend and former campaign manager Drew Lewis resisted Schweiker's pleas to switch to Reagan, Schweiker stormed: "You are keeping me from becoming President of the United States!" Fortunately for him, he does not come up for re-election until 1980, by which time the Pennsylvania AFL-CIO, which contributed to his 1968 and 1974 victories, will have had time to forget and perhaps forgive.

JAMES BUCKLEY, 53, would have won the convention booby prize had Schweiker not pre-empted it. New York's Republican-Conservative junior Senator permitted an abortive effort to win support for himself as an alternative to Ford or Reagan, thus diminishing his prime asset: an image as a non-politician who happens to be in politics. Buckley insisted his move was selfless --intended to prevent a first-ballot victory and permit delegates bound to a candidate whom they did not favor to vote their convictions on subsequent ballots. When a scant twelve delegates rallied to his tardily raised banner, Buckley withdrew to concentrate on his reelection race. Mused New York G.O.P. Chairman Richard Rosenbaum: "He got out just in time." Buckley stands to have trouble in November beating either Pat Moynihan or Bella Abzug, who are contesting for the Democratic nomination. If he loses and the Ford-Dole ticket is swamped, Buckley may well play a major role in forming an ideologically pure right-wing party.

HOWARD BAKER, 50, plainly has a future--though the appearance that he was passed over at near zero hour in the Veepstakes did nothing to enhance it. Severely disappointed, Baker signaled his intention to seek the presidency in 1980 and vowed: "If ever again I get involved in a presidential race, I can promise you I'll be in the driver's seat." He may make a third bid to become Republican Senate leader when Hugh Scott retires next January. If so, he will risk another setback: tradition favors elevation of the No. 2 man, Minority Whip Robert Griffin.

NELSON ROCKEFELLER, 68, at last appears reconciled to the only logical role open to him: elder statesman. He will campaign vigorously for Ford in northeastern industrial states, and elsewhere if asked. Should Ford win, Rocky is a long-shot possibility for Secretary of State; but he no longer savors the political infighting that is part of any Cabinet job. He would prefer to be a part-time adviser on issues that still absorb him--for example, energy and international economic development. His personally funded Commission on Critical Choices is being phased out, but he could create some other forum of his own. Says Rocky: "I'm the kind of person who has ideas. I learn about a problem and think of a solution and want to do something about it."

ELLIOT RICHARDSON, 56, faded. The Commerce Secretary has held a record four Cabinet posts and yearned to be Vice President. Though he remained on various lists till near the end, his liberal image and stodgy stump style foredoomed him. Richardson missed a White House call notifying him that he had been bypassed and, as he tried to return the call, learned from a passer-by that Dole had been chosen. If Ford is elected, Richardson could become Secretary of State, but he concedes that "I may be looking for a job in November." The opposition that he evokes from the conservatives in the Republican Party makes him an unlikely prospect for a future national ticket, but Richardson has no doubt about remaining a Republican anyway. Says he: "I believe in a two-party system, and if people like me don't stick with it, no matter how rocky the fortunes of the party, we aren't going to have one."

JOHN SEARS, 36, gained considerable respect from both sides as a shrewd campaign strategist, although his reputation suffered when the Schweiker gambit failed. Sears also made the questionable decisions that kept Reagan out of such big-state primaries as New York, New Jersey and Pennsylvania, on the theory that powerful party organizations would ensure rich delegate harvests for Ford. Some Reagan supporters faulted Sears for making a floor test on a procedural matter (whether Ford should have had to name his running mate in advance) rather than an ideological issue like detente. When this second gamble failed, Reagan was through.

But Sears was among the earliest to sense that Ford, as an appointed incumbent, was vulnerable, and that his huge budget deficits, Nixon pardon and foreign policy stressing accommodation with Moscow and Peking had created a large Republican constituency for Reagan. Sears' own cool, charm and intelligence guarantee him a role in future campaigns--if he wants one. Sears insists that he wants no part of Ford's campaign. Instead, "I'll go back to practicing law." He believes the wounds from the primaries are still too sore for him to join the President's cause; besides, he argued until last week that Ford, if nominated, would lose in November.

ROBERT GRIFFIN, 52, one of Ford's closest advisers, earned new luster and is certain to be a Republican power no matter what happens in November. The Michigan Senator's adept direction of Ford's intricate convention floor operation was praised by the newly nominated President: "Bob, you did it again." Added Tennessee's Baker: "This is Bob Griffin's convention. He is the one who pulled it together."

Last spring Griffin was sent to Iowa to round up the delegate votes that won that state's crucial caucus for Ford. He also ran Ford's successful campaign in Michigan and devised the plan for the President to whistle-stop through the state.

In the campaign, Griffin will be a key strategist, and could be called upon for a larger role if Ford fails to close the gap opened by Jimmy Carter. Should Ford eventually win, his fellow Michigander and former House Colleague Griffin could have a key appointive post. More probably, he would choose to remain in the Senate, and move up to Republican leader next January.

The spotlight also played briefly on several other Republicans who were mentioned by White House insiders as potential Vice Presidents. Though they lost out, the fact that they were considered gave them national exposure that will help their careers. One so favored was San Diego Mayor Pete Wilson, a potential gubernatorial candidate in 1978, who quipped: "It can't hoit." William Ruckelshaus, former Deputy Attorney General, realistically assessed his chances for being No. 2. As Ford was settling on Dole, he closed the purchase of a house in Bellevue, Wash., near his new job as senior vice president of Weyerhaeuser Co., the forest-products giant. Three Governors also benefited from vice-presidential mentions: Washington's Dan Evans, who is leaving after a third term, is a Cabinet possibility, but more probably will accept a post in business or education; Missouri's Kit Bond, only 37, is favored to win re-election in November and establish himself more firmly as a party star; and Iowa's Robert Ray, a Ford friend, also could join the Cabinet. Ambassador to Great Britain Anne Armstrong will continue to be highly visible, her prominence enhanced by frequent mentions as Ford's running mate, though it is doubtful she was even seriously considered.

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