Carter Battles A Revolt

By Ed Magnuson

Billy and the polls stir new challenges

The political powers of the presidency are his to command. He faces no single challenger popular enough to rally widespread support. His carefully selected delegates will form a clear and comfortable majority at his party's convention. His aides control the convention machinery. Yet despite all that, one astonishing fact remained: only a week before the Democratic National Convention assembles in New York City's Madison Square Garden, Jimmy Carter was a President under siege who could not be certain that he would be renominated by his party.

To be sure, the odds still strongly favored him. But at a time when he had hoped to be polishing his convention acceptance speech and sharpening his attack on Republican Candidate Ronald Reagan, Carter was poring through tedious White House telephone logs, appointment books, memos, documents and his personal daily diary. His ignominious task: preparing yet another report on his dealings with Brother Billy's outlandish escapade as a foreign agent for the radical Arab state of Libya. Conceded Robert Strauss, the President's shrewd campaign director: "It's sad and tragic and debilitating." Added Strauss: "I'm not a Billy man. I've had about all of Billy I need."

Yet even as the Billy affair drew fresh headlines that threw the White House into what one staff member termed "total chaos," the President was hit by news that might ultimately prove even more damaging to his re-election chances. An ABC News-Louis Harris survey disclosed that the President's approval rating among Americans had fallen to 22%. No President has sunk lower in public esteem since such polling began in 1939. Even disgraced Richard Nixon had a 25% rating in the Harris poll shortly before resigning his office.

Americans responding to the poll castigated Carter on issue after issue: 89% criticized his anti-inflation efforts, 87% his handling of unemployment, 86% his management of the economy. Last December 66% of those questioned approved of his approach to the hostage crisis in Iran; the new poll showed that 79% disapproved. Fully two-thirds of the Democrats canvassed by Harris attacked his stewardship.

There was more bad news to come. California's Field poll showed Carter running third in the nation's most populous state. Reagan led with 51%, Independent John Anderson got 23%, and the President scored only 20%. In Philadelphia, once a bastion of Democratic machine politics, a private poll taken last week by supporters of Senator Edward Kennedy rated Reagan ahead, Anderson second and Carter last. Insisted a gleeful Paul Kirk, Kennedy's chief strategist: "Candidate Carter is on a mudslide."

The one-two punch of the polls and Brother Billy rattled Democratic officeholders from Capitol Hill to statehouses across the nation. Their fear: a ticket headed by Carter in November could drag them down to defeat. Control of the House, as well as the Senate, suddenly seemed in danger. Democratic Senator Robert Byrd, the majority leader, who has never been close to Carter, quietly sounded out party colleagues on Capitol Hill. There was enough worry about the President's slippage for some Senators to consider sending a delegation to the White House to urge Carter to step aside in favor of an unspecified "third man"--someone other than Ted Kennedy, who is widely viewed as too flawed and controversial to run much stronger than Carter against Reagan. But no Senator was willing to lead any charge down Pennsylvania Avenue against a President still favored to win the nomination.

Going into the convention, Carter has 1,982 delegates, 747 more than Kennedy and 316 more than he needs for the nomination--if they all vote for him. And that is the rub. Carter's forces back a proposed rule for the convention that would prevent a delegate from switching his or her first roll-call vote on the nominee (see box). As Democrats grew more and more disenchanted with Carter, this rule became the key issue for the convention, far surpassing Carter's or Kennedy's views on foreign or domestic policy.

The arguments over "an open convention" were generally couched in lofty rhetoric involving the delegates' "freedom of conscience" or, conversely, the need to keep "the solemn commitment" to the party's 19.5 million primary voters. But in fact the rules fight was a raw power struggle. Snapped a Carter aide: "It's not an ideological issue. It's a pure and simple attempt by Kennedy people to dump Carter."

There were signs everywhere that Carter's plummeting popularity was making many Democrats consider voting for an open convention. Kansas Governor John Carlin told Vice President Walter Mondale that Carter appeared "inflexible" and "heavyhanded" and that while he could well win the rules fight, the result would be a divisive convention and a "hollow victory." A majority of Carter's 23 delegates in Kansas were expected to follow the Governor's call for an open convention, although still supporting the President for renomination. In Illinois, which has Carter's largest delegation (his edge is 163 to 16 over Kennedy), Waukegan Mayor Bill Morris estimated that 25% were waffling on the Carter ticket and that another 25% would switch if they could find an alternative to Kennedy; up to 40 delegates now support the open convention idea. If Carter abandoned the rules fight, Morris predicted, "he'd be a big hero and win anyway. The delegates would love it."

While publicly ordering Carter delegates in California to stay with the President on the rules issue, State Treasurer Jesse Unruh, leader of the Carter forces in his state, privately urged the President's men not to insist on the binding rule. Former California Senator John Tunney, a Kennedy backer, charged that "party politicians in Washington don't sense the incredible subsurface tremors abroad in the country. They don't know how weakened Carter is." Claimed Pollster Mervin Field: "If Carter doesn't open the convention, the nomination will be all but worthless. It will only exacerbate the problems within the party."

Among others calling for an open convention is Colorado Governor Richard Lamm, an early and vociferous Carter critic who was expected to urge other Democratic Governors to back a free vote at a meeting in Denver over the weekend. Governors Hugh Carey of New York, Joe Brennan of Maine, Tom Judge of Montana and Arthur Link of North Dakota have announced an anti-Carter position on the rule. So too have Senators Warren Magnuson of Washington, J. James Exon of Nebraska and Don Riegle of Michigan. The Pennsylvania delegation, which backs Kennedy narrowly, 94 to 91, is overwhelmingly in favor of the open rule, 121 to 60.

In Washington, a group of about 40 Democratic Congressmen, most of them liberals, formed the Committee to Continue the Open Convention and named as its chairman Edward Bennett Williams, one of the nation's most respected criminal lawyers and a man not known for backing forlorn causes. With a $200,000 operating fund, the group set up an office in Washington and plans to have one in New York by convention time. Said Williams: "I think that if Carter gets the nomination from an open convention, he has a far better chance than if he emerges from a convention where the delegates are just messengers."

Slowly the evidence began to mount that the proponents of an open convention might have a slim chance when the delegates gather on Aug. 11. A poll taken by the Washington Post showed that 41% of the delegates surveyed favored an open convention. To reach a majority, said a key Kennedy strategist, "we have to convince the delegates that if they act like lemmings they'll end up marching off a cliff."

Carter is still favored by most of the delegates and could have avoided this controversy if several weeks ago he had followed his instincts and freed his people to vote as they wished. But as his Billy troubles grew and Kennedy stepped up his battle against the rule ("What has the President really got to fear?" Kennedy asked), Carter dug in harder, telling aides that he would look weak if he appeared to yield under pressure. Instead, Carter and Strauss preferred to gamble on a quick convention victory, seeking to set the rules debate for the opening day, and, if the President won, guaranteeing his nomination then and there. But this tactic also risks an early fight that Carter could conceivably lose, displaying major differences under the white heat of television lights. Almost as bad, Carter might win the fight narrowly but in the process unnecessarily arouse the resentment of a sizable minority of delegates--and emerge as the nominee of an embittered convention.

While Carter and his political aides struggled to keep control if the convention, he and his advisers also labored over the Billy battle. The President tried to get a step ahead of the multiplying investigations on Capitol Hill by appearing in the White House briefing room on Tuesday to announce that he was "willing and eager to respond in person" to any questions from a special Senate Judiciary subcommittee and "the sooner the better." He said he would send the committee a "full and complete" report on the subject this week, make it public at the same time, and answer questions from reporters in a prime-time press conference.

Insisted the President: "The complete disclosure of the facts will clearly demonstrate that at no time did my brother influence me in my decisions toward Libya or the policies of this Government concerning Libya and ... neither I nor anyone acting in my behalf ever sought to influence or to interfere in the investigation of my brother by the Justice Department."

The President wanted to get his case on record before the delegates convene in New York, although there was no chance he would appear by then before the subcommittee chaired by Indiana's Birch Bayh.

While Republicans would probably have preferred the investigation to go on as long as possible--the closer to November the better--the Democrats, who are in the majority, 5 to 4, set Oct. 4 as the deadline for the committee's report.

Bayh candidly admitted that members of Congress had sharply differing opinions about what should be done. "Some have already judged the guilt or innocence; some are for hanging, some want a whitewash. I think all my Republican colleagues want to skin the President. Probably some Democrats think we are going too far." But despite his desire to move quickly, Bayh urged caution. "We want to do this so neither side can say we are heating up or slowing down in order to affect the convention. We don't want to go charging out there like Keystone Cops and come out with a handful of feathers--unless this is all there is, feathers."

One feather soon fluttered across the President's desk. Justice Department documents indicated that Billy had claimed that Jimmy had shown him State Department cables about his 1978 trip to Libya, saying that he had been a fine good-will ambassador. After an embarrassingly vague White House statement claiming that "the President does not now recall" whether he had shown the cables to Billy, Press Secretary Jody Powell jubilantly passed around copies of the papers, which turned out to be harmless. In fact, they had been given to Columnist Jack Anderson 14 months ago in response to a suit brought under the Freedom of Information Act. Though the cables were far from secret, the episode did raise a question about the President's judgment: instead of telling Billy to have nothing to do with the Libyans, the President shared with him information that could have encouraged Billy's efforts (see following story).

The unfortunate fact that new disclosures kept dribbling out, just as they had the week before, raised new questions about what else might yet be revealed as time went on. Admitted one frustrated senior White House aide: "People are saying, 'God, can't you do better than this?' The answer is we're trying. We're not doing this because we're stupid. We know how badly it hurts."

Carter did his best to reassure nervous supporters. Greeting 20 congressional Democrats who had first been elected at the same time he won the presidency in 1976, Carter promised that there were no "major revelations" ahead in the Billy affair. He told the Representatives that if they felt his candidacy might hurt their reelection chances, he would not campaign in their districts.

Carter could take heart from an observation bluntly expressed by one of his political strategists: "They've got no horse." Translation: aside from Senator Kennedy, who has his own problems with the electorate, Carter's opponents have no real champion to rally around. The White House last week released a letter from Vice President Walter Mondale to a home-state Minnesota Congressman, James Oberstar. Wrote Mondale: "I am not a candidate for the Democratic presidential nomination this year and have no intention of becoming one. President Carter has won a majority of the delegates fair and square. He has my full support."

Next it was Secretary of State Edmund Muskie's turn. His statement was not quite so Shermanesque. Said he: "I accepted the appointment as Secretary of State to serve the country and to serve the President. I continue to serve the President, and I will support him all the way. I have a commitment to the President. I don't make such commitments lightly, and I intend to keep it." When reporters later questioned the firmness of his position, Muskie's famed temper flared: "If you will just listen to my words, it will still all those questions I see quivering on your lips."

Arizona Congressman Morris Udall disavowed any interest with a flourish of finality that may well set a new standard for statements of noncandidacy. Declared he: "If nominated, I will run [pause] to the Mexican border. If elected [pause], I will fight extradition."

That left Washington Senator Henry Jackson as the only potential candidate who seemed ready to jump into the fray. Carter's strategists, however, profess to have no fear of Jackson because they are certain that he does not have enough national, congressional or party support.

Meanwhile, Kennedy kept fighting hard for the nomination, although there was a growing conviction that if he won his battle for a free ballot, the delegates --in what would be one of the most ironic moments of the political year--might choose another man. Meetings between Carter and Kennedy aides to work out compromises for the convention came to nothing at first, although some "progress" was reported at week's end. Kennedy could end up waging spectacular floor fights on 18 platform issues. Said he of some of the petty procedural disagreements: "That grown men and women have to spend hours and hours on this type of detail is tragic."

Kennedy next made the most interesting political move of the week: he invited Independent Candidate Anderson to his Senate office. The two men later talked elliptically to reporters, but Anderson indicated that he would consider dropping out of the race if the convention nominated anyone but Carter.

Kennedy also called Ronald Reagan to report that, if nominated, he hoped he could join Anderson and the Governor in three-way debates. Receiving the call, Reagan aides suspected an impostor was on the line. They got Kennedy's private phone number, then his office number, called back on both and finally decided that the Senator was indeed phoning. Reagan said he had no objection to a three-way debate if Anderson was then a serious candidate. Reagan actually hopes that Carter will be nominated; he considers him the weakest possible opponent.

A the week went on, Carter was hurt by Senator Byrd's call for an open convention, but the President's fortunes in general seemed to rise. The White House won a notable convert: Douglas Fraser, president of the United Auto Workers and an early Kennedy backer, who apparently decided that any move to block Carter's nomination was fading. He refused to fight for an open convention and announced that he was ready to second the renomination of Mondale unless the convention turned to Kennedy. The powerful United Steelworkers Union was also preparing to endorse Carter this week.

Overshadowing in numbers and influence the Congressmen committed to an open convention, 107 House Democrats backed the tough new voting rule. The list included Majority Leader Jim Wright, Budget Committee Chairman Bob Giaimo, Foreign Affairs Committee Chairman Clement Zablocki and Government Operations Chairman Jack Brooks.

Carter's most cheering moment came on the last of a series of White House meetings he and his advisers have held for some 1,000 of his 1,982 delegates. Last week's group of 400 encouraged him more than he did them. "We want Jimmy! We want Jimmy!" they shouted as Carter and Rosalynn, smiling broadly, entered the East Room. "You've got me!" answered Carter, whereupon New York's Hazel Dukes shouted: "And we're going to keep you for four more years!" Chanted the audience: "Four more years, four more years!" Referring to the rules fight, Carter derided attempts to change delegates' commitment as "a travesty" and drew applause by declaring: "Let's not let the political bosses control our party any longer." Said he: " almost incomprehensible how a brokered, horse-trading, smoke-filled convention can be labeled open, and a decision made by 20 million Democrats in the open primaries and open caucuses could be called closed."

On Capitol Hill and among the Democratic Party's worried leaders, an old political adage was going the rounds last week: "If you are going to kill the king, make sure that he is dead." The political fortunes of Jimmy Carter are still very much alive.

--Ed Magnuson. Reported by Walter Isaacson and Christopher Ogden/Washington

With reporting by WALTER ISAACSON, Christopher Ogden/Washington

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