A Quixotic Four-Star Foray

By Laurence I. Barrett/Washington

Alexander Haig commanded U.S. troops in Korea and Viet Nam, but perhaps his toughest tests under fire came as Richard Nixon's last White House chief of staff and Ronald Reagan's first Secretary of State. Haig, who has long nurtured presidential ambitions, once noted privately that the State Department was ill suited as a stepping-stone to the White House. "You come out bruised and scarred," he observed before his nomination as Secretary of State. Sure enough, by the time Reagan fired him in mid-1982, Haig was covered with contusions from bureaucratic brawls.

But Haig has never been one to slip quietly into the night. Last week he launched a quixotic quest to prove his own career forecast wrong, announcing that he was "throwing my helmet into the ring" for the 1988 G.O.P. nomination. At his debut press conference in New York City's Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, a genial Haig laughed off a question about his pugnacity by saying, "Inside this exterior of militant, turf-conscious, excessively ambitious demeanor there's a heart as big as all outdoors." Later, snipping a ribbon to open his Manchester, N.H., headquarters, he cracked, "I'm used to a bayonet, but today I have golden scissors."

The bayonet may be sheathed for now, but the harsh truth is that Haig is running on what might be called the vindication platform. Bitter at the Reaganauts for what he once called the "guerrilla campaign" against him as Secretary of State, he believes (correctly) that Iranscam is proof that Reagan indeed needed a strong foreign policy "vicar." Equally astringent on domestic policy, he castigates Washington's "fiscal flabbiness." He is likely to be the Republican most critical of major aspects of the Reagan record, foreign and domestic.

As a candidate, Haig boasts high name recognition and a resume that rivals George Bush's. But political professionals consider Haig's chances to be, at the very best, remote. "When you talk about all the Republican scenarios," says one independent G.O.P. strategist, "Haig's is the most improbable." His support in the polls hovers below the 10% range, and he is plagued by an army of negative public impressions. One reason is the lingering recollection of his overwrought performance in the White House briefing room the day Reagan was shot. His quavery assertion that "I am in control here" was an attempt to show that the Government was stable, but it was hardly reassuring to those watching.

Haig has no geographic or ideological base of support. The support he does have is mainly among boardroom Republicans. One unlikely backer is Comedian Mort Sahl, who appeared at a Haig fund raiser on the eve of the announcement and later quipped, "I'm the head of Radicals for Haig in Beverly Hills." If nothing else, a Haig campaign -- with its promise of exuberant intensity and occasional mangled jargon -- should make for good copy.

Haig seems to be running in part because he senses a deficit in his own life. At 62, growing tired of his current trade as a business consultant and lecturer, "he has this sense," says an ally, "of being on the outside looking in." His candidacy gives him a large audience for his I-told-you-so message about the conduct of foreign affairs. And even if he makes little progress, the publicity can only fatten his bookings on the lecture tour.