The Loneliest Long-Distance Runner

By WALTER SHAPIRO

Gary Hart's ritual declaration of presidential candidacy had been foreordained ever since he promised the 1984 Democratic Convention, "This is one Hart you will not leave in San Francisco." But in politics these days, choosing a suitably telegenic backdrop is often as important as the announcement itself. Hart wanted to keep it simple, making the brief statement from the front porch of his log-and-stone house in the Colorado mountains, 25 miles from Denver. His handlers preferred something more dramatic and expansive, with, of course, more room for reporters and TV crews. Caught between a rock and a hard place, the former Colorado Senator chose the rock, a picturesque stone slab in nearby Red Rocks Park.

There last week, evocatively framed by snow-speckled red-sandstone formations, Hart, 50, formally staked his claim to the prize that eluded him last time. His eight-minute speech, flawlessly delivered from memory, harked back to the cerebral themes of 1984: "I intend, as I always have, to run a campaign of ideas." Hart's central idea is his proclaimed ability to discern "the national interest" and his determination to pursue it. This sets up a refrain, as he compares his ideas to Reagan policies: "One choice is in the national interest, and that choice could not be clearer."

Far more compelling than rhetoric, however, was the visual image of Gary Hart: rough-hewn and handsome, dressed in a dark blue suit and trademark black cowboy boots, standing in splendid isolation halfway up a mountain. The lone political warrior towering above his rivals is precisely Hart's position nine months before the Iowa caucuses. It has been Hart vs. a still indistinguishable field ever since New York Governor Mario Cuomo decided to sit out the 1988 race. A Washington Post-ABC News preference poll of Democrats last month gave Hart 46% and Jesse Jackson 14%, with no other active or potential candidate registering above 4%.

Hart, who has built his political career as a grass-roots outsider running against the party establishment, lacks most of the hallmarks of a traditional front runner. Aside from the Colorado delegation, Hart's avowed congressional supporters could caucus under the same umbrella. Old-line party financiers who actively supported Walter Mondale in 1984 find Hart's diffident style difficult to accept. "Hart I can't see," says a prominent Southern fund raiser. "If I don't know who he is, I don't know how he can win." Labor leaders, who remember Hart's blistering attacks on Mondale's ties to special interests, are equally skittish. As Don McKee, a leading Iowa union official, puts it, "The name Hart doesn't come up among our rank and file."

There is an inescapable tendency, however, to exaggerate Hart's liabilities. At this premature stage, almost everyone following the Democratic contest -- the press, campaign consultants for rival candidates, and party officials who want to be wooed -- has a vested interest in a political horse race. Small wonder the conventional wisdom is filled with airy speculation about which Democrat might suddenly emerge from the pack with a Hart-stopping charge in Iowa or New Hampshire.

It may happen. Up to now though, Hart has run a gaffe-free campaign that provides scant fodder for his hungry rivals. Perhaps his only strategic error was to neglect the Iowa battleground for much of 1986. But Hart's Senate record wins Democratic applause, especially his consistent opposition to Reaganomics and his long advocacy of an oil-import fee. Hart's speeches have grown more evocative and thematic; technocratic details are now left to his position papers, which are voluminous enough to satisfy anyone's hunger for beef.

The only ripples in the calm waters of the Hart campaign are churned up by debris from his last campaign. Hart still owes creditors $1.3 million from 1984, and campaign laws allow him to separate this leftover red ink from his political coffers for 1988. But the lingering 1984 debt remains an annoying distraction. U.S. marshals made surprise raids on two Los Angeles-area Hart fund raisers last week, seizing the receipts on behalf of a small ad agency that is owed $165,900 from 1984. Hart's aides insist, with seeming validity, that 1988 campaign funds cannot be garnisheed. At week's end, however, the money remained in the marshals' custody.

Far more amorphous, yet potentially far more serious for Hart, are the lingering echoes from what is politely called the character issue. In 1984, underlying doubts about Hart's personality took the form of an overheated discussion of his name change (from Hartpence) and his frequent misstatements of his age. This time around Hart is plagued by vague rumors of womanizing, all advanced without a shred of credible evidence. It is no secret that Hart and his wife Lee endured two painful marital separations, the last one ending in 1982. Last week, prompted by a reporter's acknowledgment that the innuendos of infidelity were being subtly spread by aides of rival candidates, Hart suggested, "Sooner or later, someone has to write the story about how this is coming out of other campaigns." Hours later he tried to soften the point, saying he did not believe rival camps were spreading rumors. Nevertheless, the initial remark illustrated the dangers of a presidential candidate's uttering the truth. Instead of stifling the rumors, Hart's words prompted another day's worth of stories about them and about his critical response.

Forgettable flaps like this are what pass for news in the early days of campaign '88. Inevitably, Hart himself will become the issue. "That's the nature of being the front runner," says Paul Tully, Hart's political director. "You're going to get trashed." For the next six months, however, Hart's rivals lack a dramatic forum to get their views across; no debates, straw polls or other major media events are on the schedule. By the time Democratic voters turn their attention to presidential politics, Hart, still traveling alone, could well be within sight of the mountaintop.

With reporting by Laurence I. Barrett with Hart