Despite an All-Out Effort, Labor Comes Up Short

By Susan Tifft

But unions hope for a payoff next time ore than a year ago, the 13.7 million-member AFL-CIO took the unprecedented step of endorsing a Democratic presidential candidate, Walter Mondale, before a single caucus or primary had been held. The goal: to establish labor early on as the decisive element in the Democrats' bid for the White House. "If we do not do what we propose to do, we shall be reviled as toothless and irrelevant," said AFL-CIO President Lane Kirkland at the time. "If we succeed, we shall be condemned for daring to aspire to a share of power in our society."

Unspoken, however, was a third possibility: that the Democratic nominee might lose, with labor's support proving as much a hindrance as a help. That is what happened on Election Day. Up against a popular President and a humming economy, union leaders were simply unable to call home the once monolithic "labor vote." What is more, the union label alienated many of the swing voters--yuppies, independents and moderate Republicans--whom Mondale needed in order to defeat Ronald Reagan. "The public is looking for someone who works for them," says Political Analyst Alan Baron. "It doesn't mean they hate labor. It just means they want somebody who's independent."

Mondale had been endorsed by every major union except the Teamsters, who opted for Reagan. After stumbling badly in the early primaries, Mondale relied on union money and muscle to grind down Gary Hart in New York, Pennsylvania, Illinois and Michigan. "Without labor, we would not have been the nominee," admits one Mondale strategist.

But the effort left a sour taste. "We paid the penalty of being labeled a special-interest group," says Douglas Fraser, retired president of the United Auto Workers. Labor's all-out embrace also reinforced outdated expectations that its members would vote as a bloc. "The fact that people expect labor to deliver a unified vote is ridiculous," says Sam Fishman, president of the Michigan AFL-CIO. In 1964, 73% of labor households voted for L.B.J.; by the time Jimmy Carter ran for re-election in 1980, the Democrats' share of the union vote had dropped to 50%. "I don't even read the stuff they send me," says Robert McConnachie, a Reagan sup porter who belongs to the American Federation of State, County and Municipal Employees in Avon Township, Mich. "They can't tell me how to vote." Just as important, a dwindling percentage of the work force is in the labor movement. According to the Bureau of National Affairs, a private research group, 17.9% of the work force was unionized in 1982, down from 24.7% in 1970.

Many union members picked Reagan for the same reasons other voters did: his sunny optimism and his stands on pocketbook and patriotism issues. Ironically, by negotiating ever higher wages, many unions have helped their members climb into the middle class, where they perceive their economic interests to be better served by the G.O.P.

Reagan's stand-tall image also held appeal. When Geraldine Ferraro asked workers in a Belvidere, Ill., Chrysler plant why they planned to vote for Reagan, they said they feared Mondale would reinstate the anemic foreign policy of the Carter Administration. Says Fraser: "The macho factor was important."

To combat the well-organized incumbent, labor supplemented its usual campaign tools--phone banks, flyers, canvassing--with an array of high-tech methods. "They've moved into the 20th century politically," says Washington-based Labor Consultant Victor Kamber. "Now they use direct mail and laser-printed letters. They show videodisks in union halls." Two years ago, aided by computers, the AFL-CIO started to pinpoint unregistered members and sign them up. In Alabama, registration among members in one Sheet Metal Workers' local shot from 40% to more than 90%. Last month, AFL-CIO President Kirkland took to the road in a "solidarity van," going on a two-week, get-out-the-vote odyssey across the industrial Rustbelt.

The fact that labor's love lost in spite of this intensive mobilization drive (estimated worth: $40 million) seems not to have sparked much soul searching among union leaders. They roundly reject the notion that labor forced an unelectable candidate on the Democratic Party or that they bear any responsibility for his defeat. If anything, they say, Mondale dug his own grave by not campaigning directly on labor issues. Many union officials maintain that the interest ignited by the early endorsement greatly strengthened their political apparatus. "The process produced its intended result," says AFL-CIO Spokesman Murray Seeger. "It's given us a kind of excitement, a kind of unity we never had."

In the view of union leaders, Mondale's defeat is only a temporary setback. "Labor will take a black eye on this," admits Kamber. "But four years from now, when it backs a winner, there will be stories about its amazing comeback." Indeed, the union brass seems eager to make early endorsement an established policy. "I haven't found anybody saying it shouldn't have been done," says Richard Murphy, legislative director of the 650,000-member Service Employees International Union. "I hope we do exactly the same thing next time." The danger, of course, is that the unions will keep choosing candidates who are able to win the primaries but not the general election.

For the moment, most experts do not believe that will happen, largely because of the lessons those outside labor may learn from Mondale's 1984 defeat. "Future candidates would be crazy to go after a labor endorsement before the primaries," says William Schneider, an elections expert at the American Enterprise Institute. Concurs Analyst Baron: "Labor has clearly reduced its clout in the party in the future. A lot of state chairmen who were skeptical, but went along, are now saying, 'We won't let them do that to us again.' " --By Susan Tifft. Reported by Jay Branegan/Washington, with other bureaus

With reporting by Jay Branegan