Building to a Climax

By Ed Magnuson

Nation

The pace quickens as Carter and Reagan prepare to debate

The presidential campaign seemed drifting, confused, even as the pace of travel, speeches, TV pitches and endorsements quickened. Republican Ronald Reagan was still ahead, but he was not pulling away. His aides fretted about the tendency of undecided voters to place their bets on a past winner as the race turned into the home stretch. Meanwhile Jimmy Carter was claiming that disaffected Democrats were starting to come home to the party, although there was no clear proof. Then, suddenly, came the startling news: the two candidates had agreed in principle to meet face to face in a one-on-one, make-or-break debate during the week before the election on Nov. 4.

The confrontation--long desired by a vast majority of the U.S. public--comes so late in the campaign that it poses a troubling question: Will the outcome, after more than a year of struggle to determine the next occupant of the Oval Office, be settled in just a few score unforgiving minutes of TV time? If either candidate makes a major mistake, there will be almost no opportunity left for him to recover, no second or third debate in which to recoup. With so many sharp differences between the two men on issues, personalities and styles of governing, should a potentially historic choice be made on the basis of which candidate flubs an answer or looks more presidential on a 17-inch screen?

Though the debate might be too much too late, the unique campaign pressures of 1980 seemed to compel the candidates to accept the invitation, offered by the League of Women Voters, to meet in a showdown session, tentatively set for Oct. 28 in Cleveland. Only one other possible event could be as pivotal to the election outcome as the TV clash: a deal between the U.S. and Iran that would bring the American hostages home before Election Day, presumably to Carter's great credit. Last week Iranian Prime Minister Mohammed Ali Raja'i raised that possibility at the United Nations when he told reporters that a decision by his country's parliament on the fate of the hostages was "not far away" (see WORLD).

The decision to debate, the fresh hope for the hostages, the speculation over whether or not the Reagan drive had lost its momentum--all added to a spreading feeling that the long campaign was rapidly building to a turning point. The week was full of ironies: Reagan did well barnstorming the country, but it was Carter who ended up with the best chance to exploit. Aside from the possibility of the return of the hostages--the "October surprise" that the Republicans have been dreading--Carter has been yearning for a head-to-head debate with Reagan and a chance to overcome the Governor's lead with a single incisive performance.

The opportunity opened up when Independent John Anderson fell below 15% in most national polls, the standard that had been set by the League for him to be included in any debate and that had put him onstage with Reagan on Sept. 21 when Carter refused to play. Before the League issued the invitation, Reagan's aides had been having their own debate for days. Some argued that Reagan should take part, that he could not sit on his lead and hope to win. They sensed what they called the "return of the native" syndrome: blacks, Jews, Hispanics and rebellious labor union members might flock back to the Democratic Party as the election neared. Others argued that Reagan should stay out; since he was leading, agreeing to the debate would be seen as a sign of weakness, or even panic. There was also the risk that Carter might score unexpectedly well or that Reagan might stumble, even though the Governor was as confident of his ability to handle the President as the President was of his chances of besting Reagan. Said one participant in the Reagan staff discussions: "It's an example of how indecision can be an art form around here."

In the interim, the Governor upstaged the President when they both appeared at a dinner honoring Al Smith, the former Democratic Governor of New York, that is an annual political ritual sponsored by the Catholic Archdiocese of New York. Reagan was relaxed, poking light-hearted fun at himself and wisely refraining from any cracks with a partisan bite, as required by the ground rules of the dinner. Quipped the Governor during an eight-minute speech: "There is no foundation to the rumor that I am the only one here who was at the original Al Smith dinner." (This year's is the 35th annual affair.) By contrast, Carter turned preachy in a 14-minute oration that included an attack on Christian fundamentalists who contend that God does not hear the prayers of Jews. Some of his jokes fell flat. Said Carter: "I will say publicly and for the record that I am not planning any October surprise. I can predict, however, that one of us is in for a very severe November shock." The crowd applauded Reagan far more warmly than Carter.

Meeting until nearly midnight at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel after the dinner, Reagan's staff argued again whether to debate Carter without Anderson. Earlier in the discussions, Aides Mike Deaver, Bill Timmons, Lyn Nofziger and Richard Wirthlin were all to some degree opposed. Undecided or uncommitted were Stuart Spencer, Bill Casey and Ed Meese. Favoring acceptance were James Baker and Ed Gray. Now the sentiment shifted and a consensus for accepting an invitation to debate was reached. Learning of his staffs recommendation, Reagan readily concurred.

When the League's anticipated invitation came, Robert Strauss, Carter's campaign manager, promptly and happily accepted. The President, Strauss said, would agree "to any reasonable format" in meetings with the League to be held this week.

Aderson, suffering probably the worst week of his slipping campaign, was understandably irate. He accused the League of having "buckled under to White House pressure." He asked: "What made anything sacred or sacrosanct about 15%?" He noted a Los Angeles Times poll placing his support at 16% and declared: "I am going to appeal to the court of public opinion to express the outrage I feel." While Reagan suggested that Carter might have to "examine his conscience" in bypassing Anderson, the Independent said bitingly: "While I appreciate Mr. Reagan's solicitude, I would not, after what I have observed in the campaign to date, leave much to Mr. Carter's conscience."

There were a few omens that Carter might be gaining ground. Some members of New York's Jewish community detected a gradual, if reluctant, shift back toward Carter among their group; the President must have strong Jewish support to carry a state he needs badly. Reagan still had an edge in Pennsylvania, although there was a slight trend toward the President. In Illinois, a Chicago Tribune poll showed that Carter had taken a lead over Reagan (34% to 29%, with Anderson at 12.5% and a vital 17.5% undecided). In Ohio, labor leaders seemed to be having some success in persuading blue-collar workers to support Carter; a New York Times-CBS poll showed the President within 2% of Reagan.

Still, the stirrings around the country were certainly not all in Carter's favor. With some justification, Reagan aides claimed they were gaining on the President in his native South. They were optimistic about Florida and Texas, and felt they might beat the President in Virginia, Louisiana, Alabama, Tennessee, Kentucky and South Carolina. The reason: Reagan's apparent strength among blue-collar whites.

Last week Reagan scored what initially seemed to be a notable coup: he got the backing of the Rev. Ralph Abernathy, Martin Luther King Jr.'s onetime righthand man, and the endorsement of the Rev. Hosea Williams, another black civil rights activist of the '60s. But neither Abernathy nor Williams is regarded today as a major leader by blacks. Scoffed Atlanta Mayor Maynard Jackson, a black: "When the Ku Klux Klan, Abernathy and Williams agree on the same candidate for President, that wins first prize for weird coalition of the year."

Reagan made a none-too-subtle pitch last week for the biggest voting group of all: the nation's women. He revealed that "one of his first" appointments to the Supreme Court would be female. But that single gesture was hardly likely to overcome a more general wariness among women about Reagan's ability to keep the nation at peace.

As the jockeying for position increased, the decision to debate became even more important. Carter, so eager to accept, professed to find great merit in the willingness of both candidates to gamble everything on one roll of the TV dice. Said he: "I don't think it's a matter of who will win or lose. The American people will win. It's not a contest to see who's the best debater or the best orator or the most professional television performer. It is to draw the sharp distinction on the issues."

Perhaps. But an eleventh-hour television debate might well fail to show those distinctions on the points that matter. The danger remains that only the better performer may "win"--and that his prize will be the White House. --By EdMagnuson. Reported by Laurence I. Barrett with Reagan and Christopher Ogden with Carter

With reporting by Laurence I. Barrett, Christopher Ogden

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