Monday, Feb. 22, 1988

Pilloried For Pandering

By Richard Stengel

-- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Everyone -- except some voters, it seems -- loves to loathe Dick Gephardt. Since Iowa, the press has castigated him for his politically inspired conversion from a nerdy Mr. Inside to an Establishment-baiting Joe Populist. His rivals have jeered him as an inconsistent opportunist pandering to whims of a variety of special-interest groups. Others have derided him as a chameleon who darkened his blond eyebrows (otherwise they disappeared on television) and made himself into a populist prophet who would lead America out of economic servitude. Gephardt just grins: such criticism tells him he must be on to something.

Indeed, his critics dub him a master of the flip-flop, accusing him of committing the deadliest sin of American politics. As a House member he supported an array of measures that he now repudiates: the 1981 Reagan tax cut, the MX missile, an antiabortion amendment and a freeze in Social Security benefits. But Gephardt is unruffled by the charges of hypocrisy: "All great political leaders have changed their minds in response to changing circumstances. It's silly to be rigid on things when circumstances change."

In fairness, some of the transformation reflects an evolutionary tilt from right to left during eleven years in Congress. In the past three months, however, Gephardt has performed a dazzling political pirouette. It began last November, when he met with his aides to figure out why, after more than 100 days of campaigning in Iowa, he was losing support in the polls. Gephardt was frustrated and demoralized; he just wasn't connecting with voters. His technical speeches on trade were either boring or offputting. So Gephardt suggested using examples of American products that cost much more in Asia. This, he thought, would provide concrete evidence of what he meant by unfair trade practices. A diligent researcher went out and found examples of apples that would cost $5 in Japan if they could be sold there at all, and a Ford Taurus sedan that cost $76,000 in South Korea.

With help from Deputy Campaign Manager Joe Trippi, Political Consultant Bob Shrum, 44, an intense and brilliant veteran wordsmith in four presidential campaigns, went to work on a television ad that would bring Gephardt's theme to life. It showed a stern-looking Gephardt promising to force the Koreans to reduce tariffs on American cars, or "they'll soon learn how many Americans will pay $48,000 for a Hyundai." The spot hit the air in Iowa the day after Christmas and grabbed viewers by the collar. "What the TV did was punch through what I'd been saying for a year," Gephardt explained last week. "We finally got across that the trade bill isn't about protectionism; it's about fairness, a two-way street."

Over Christmas, Shrum began to cobble together a new stump speech that altered the tone of the Gephardt candidacy: the new Shrum speech zeroed in on the "Establishment" as the culprit for what was wrong with the country. The Establishment, Gephardt charged, was intent on sending jobs overseas, cutting Social Security and hacking up family farms for agribusinesses. It was a brazen act of reinvention: Gephardt's previous message touted his ability as a Washington insider to work within the corridors of power; now he was preaching the politics of resentment.

Suddenly the earnest, Howdy Doody-ish Midwesterner became an old-fashioned firebrand. He had found a voice that worked. "Dick has touched a deep-seated fear about the economic future of the nation," says Kirk O'Donnell, president of the Center for National Policy, a Democratic-oriented think tank. "This is powerful stuff."

The other candidates immediately blasted Gephardt for blatant opportunism. In New Hampshire, Paul Simon put on tough radio ads outlining issue after issue in which "Congressman Gephardt" said one thing while "Candidate Gephardt" said another. Michael Dukakis accused Gephardt of being "protectionist" and having 19th century ideas about trade. Even several of Gephardt's former staffers described his new persona as contrived. Don Foley, who quit as his press secretary three months ago, told friends, "Some days he doesn't even know who he is."

The new strategy comes easily to Gephardt because he, more than any other Democratic candidate, has an instinct to please, an inclination to tell people what he thinks they want to hear. Yet he is tapping a real well of discontent and economic nationalism. Such a message plays well in regions where times are hard and resentment is ready to be roused. But it is hardly a blueprint for governing.

With reporting by Michael Duffy/Manchester