Move Over, Sam Ervin

By WALTER SHAPIRO

Young and restless politicians with one life to live, desperately searching for the guiding light to another world of national celebrity. A new soap opera? Not quite, but close. It is the televised Iran-contra hearings that will pre-empt the soaps this week.

Each of the 26 congressional inquisitors is well aware of the awesome power of television to make or break reputations. Back in the kinescope era, Freshman Senator Estes Kefauver starred in a dramatic series of organized- crime hearings; the next year he almost won the 1952 Democratic presidential nomination. The Senate Watergate hearings, of course, transformed Sam Ervin into a national icon and forever linked Howard Baker with the line "What did the President know, and when did he know it?" But the TV cameras can also be cruel; Watergate did little to enhance the political careers of the weaker performers.

What is a nervous Senator or Congressman to do? He has picked his best blue suit, his most sincere red tie and perhaps has even gone under the sunlamp in quest of a TV tan. His frenzied staff has churned out briefing books and questions. But even with all these preparations, an ineffective inquisitor could send millions of viewers straight to the refrigerator. To prevent Americans from pigging out on between-meal snacks, herewith some TV tips to help committee members mind their P's and Q-ratings:

Listen before you leap. Senator Joseph Montoya provided comic relief during Watergate by dutifully reciting the questions his staff had prepared, even if other Senators had already asked them. Always remember to ear on the side of caution.

The eyes have it. Reading questions aloud is boring, even on C-SPAN. None of the courtroom wizards on L.A. Law use crib sheets. Explains Dorothy Sarnoff, a corporate-image adviser: "When you read, we don't see the eyes, so we don't know what you're feeling."

The camera has the votes. Don't stare at the witness; even if he is a constituent, he's not likely to be a happy one. Play to the TV audience instead. Democratic Media Consultant Frank Greer suggests that you periodically turn to glare at the cameras and say, "But Colonel North, the American people want answers."

Passion plays in the afternoon. Take your cue from the soaps. The rule here is no guts, no glory. "Our characters," says Al Rabin, supervising executive producer of Days of Our Lives, "have to have the ability to wear their feelings on their sleeve. Don't be shy, show what's in your gut."

Try some Bartlett's and James. If only PBS and C-SPAN deem your performance worthy of coverage, it is cooler not to whine about it. Instead, haul out the quote books and show off your erudition for this upscale audience. Here, for example, is a useful phrase from The Spoils of Poynton: "The fatal futility of Fact."

Do not money the waters. Granted, the first stage of the hearings will focus on the secret funding network for the contras. But face it, the only people excited by the details of Swiss bank accounts are the Gnomes of Zurich. So let the committee counsels do this work for you. Otherwise, warns Republican Media Consultant Roger Ailes, "you could end up looking like a chief financial officer discussing the cash-flow management for the coming marketing season."

Know thy image. With memories of Sam Ervin's country-lawyer routines still fresh, the entire committee could wind up sounding like Hee Haw. Do not try to be folksy if Grandpappy was a Main Line Philadelphia lawyer. A congressional committee should be as varied as a World War II platoon. There are still fine roles available for a moralistic New Englander, a tough ethnic and a Jimmy Stewart-type Midwesterner. Above all, remember there is no such thing as a small part if it helps you get re-elected. And that, along with the pursuit of truth and justice, is part of these hearings.