A Scenario for Breaking the Gridlock

By WALTER SHAPIRO

The Democrats are sailing into uncharted waters in their inability to select a nominee. The following imaginary scenario illustrates the kind of high-stakes bartering that could occur in the frenzied weeks leading up to the convention.

June 9: As he waited for the five Democratic candidates, Paul Kirk mused that even the Pope has more divisions than the Democratic Party chairman. For weeks Kirk had been talking of leading a bandwagon of perhaps 400 super- delegates to the front runner. But after two days of working the phones, Kirk had only 208 commitments. If only Mike Dukakis had caught fire. Instead, he had staggered across the finish line more than 600 votes short of nomination.

There was an awkward formality to Kirk's unity meeting. A little nervous laughter broke out when Jesse Jackson asked, "Don't any of you want to be my Vice President? No heavy lifting, and I'll let you go to all the good ( funerals." But behind his smile was a clear understanding that Kirk's ploy was really a way to neutralize Jackson's clout. No way.

Kirk decided it was time to bluff it out. "The only way we can win in November is if we agree on a nominee right now. I'm ready to endorse Mike if someone will help me put him over the top." The silence that followed was almost as long as the primary season. "No deal," said Richard Gephardt at last. "I've given up my House seat for this race, and I'm $700,000 in debt. It does none of us any good, except Mike, to change the rules now." Kirk and the candidates spent the next hour arguing over what to say to the press.

June 18: Al Gore had been preparing for this summit for months. Every phone call, every chance meeting in airports, had been designed to lay the groundwork. Now, as Gore sat across the table from Jackson in Carthage, Tenn., he sensed that the nomination was in his grasp. "Jesse, this is what you've been fighting for all your life," Gore began quietly. "Unlike any other black in history, you have been given the power to choose the next President."

Gore was careful not to mention the vice presidency; that would be seen as pandering. The promise of consultation on jobs was implicit. There was no need to dwell on it. What Gore discussed instead was their shared Southern heritage and what it had taught him about race, poverty and man's capacity to change. There was a passion in Gore's voice that a Northerner like Dukakis could not have equaled.

"Somebody's been teaching you how to preach," Jackson said with sincerity. Gore, his eyes on the prize, smiled broadly. "But," Jackson continued, "I am both a man and a movement. As a man, I can give you my private backing. But as a movement, my power is lacking. My delegates have their own dreams, their own schemes. Even if I could deliver 500 of them, that would still leave you miles from victory."

June 22: "Our topic tonight is Democratic gridlock and how to break it," Ted Koppel declared at the beginning of a special edition of Nightline. "With us are all five candidates."

It was almost inevitable: a TV anchor trying to play modern-day power broker, using split-screen technology to seek the deal that had eluded Paul Kirk. First pairing Dukakis and Gephardt, Koppel relentlessly bored in: "Governor, would you accept the Congressman as your running mate if he would endorse you?" Dukakis answered with characteristic caution, "I would % certainly consider Congressman Gephardt, as well as Senator Gore, along with many other fine Democrats." Suddenly Gephardt was gone, and Gore was on the split screen. "Senator," Koppel intoned, "would you accept the vice presidency?" Gore remained unruffled as he answered, "Ted, as I've said many times, I would be uncomfortable anywhere but on the top of the ticket."

Zap. Gephardt was back. "I do think it would be possible," he said, "now that Mike has modified his trade stance, and if the convention desires . . ." His voice trailed off. The director ordered a close-up of Dukakis, silently doing the math once more; Gephardt, even if he could sway all his delegates, could not assure the nomination. "Forgive me, Ted," Dukakis said, "but really this is not the forum to be holding such conversations. As I've said before, I'll be talking with Dick and many others, but I don't think this is the place."

June 30: More than 200 delegates had chartered a special train to Albany to personally petition Mario Cuomo to save the party from chaos. Now they listened as Cuomo laboriously reviewed the Jesuitic logic that undergirded every statement he had ever made about running. "My resolve not to seek the presidency remains steadfast," Cuomo declared amid a chorus of groans and muttered imprecations. "But I have also always said that I do not have the vanity, I do not have the prideful stubbornness to turn my back on my party." As the applause died down, Cuomo hastened to make himself perfectly unclear: "My position has not changed. I will not actively seek the presidency. But neither will I forsake the needs of my party."

July 1: In the end it was a kind of tribal loyalty that swayed Gore. For more than a year, he and Dukakis had suffered together through a mad swirl of airports and motels, victories and defeats. Now they both risked losing all to the interloper from Albany. All Dukakis needed to hear was Gore's opening line on the telephone: "Mike, I hear you're looking for a Vice President."

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CREDIT: TIME Chart by Cynthia Davis; Odds and text by Walter Shapiro SOURCE: Associated Press, as of 3/18.

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DESCRIPTION: Number of delegates won by Michael Dukakis, Jesse Jackson, Albert Gore Jr., Paul Simon, Richard Gephardt and others; gives odds of election of each and short assessment of each candidate's campaign; faces of candidates are shown in black and white illustration mounted on dice.