Senators: North Carolina, Minnesota

By Laurence I. Barrett

The contest between Republican Jesse Helms and his black Democratic challenger Harvey Gantt attracted more national attention than any other Senate election because it posed a primal question: Was Helms' brand of racial politics finally obsolete? In electing Helms to a fourth term last week, North Carolina gave a clear answer: not yet, not even in a state regarded as one of the most progressive in the South.

For liberals who had hoped to retire the Senate's most outspoken reactionary, the result was a harsh disappointment. Gantt in early fall appeared to capture the initiative. A former mayor of Charlotte and a successful architect, Gantt, 47, presented what he called a "noble agenda." It amounted to a genteel strain of liberalism emphasizing improved education, health care and environmental measures. He rarely used the terms black or African American and refused to call Helms racist. Instead, he labeled Helms "divisive," a euphemism Gantt hoped would deflect polarization along racial lines.

Meanwhile, Helms, 69, was a prisoner of the budget impasse in Washington. The numerous targets of his wrath -- homosexuals, feminists, welfare programs, artwork he considers obscene, diplomats he deems squishy -- continued to be handy foils for the legislator known as "Senator No." For a time, though, Helms' campaign seemed to lack the hard edge of his previous crusades. His early TV spots attacking Gantt as too liberal on issues such as abortion and gay rights fired up rural "Jessecrats" but not moderates and fence-sitters. Gantt raised enough money to match Helms' TV blitz in the final weeks and to gain an eight-point lead in mid-October polls.

But when Congress finally adjourned, Helms roared back to the state for 10 give-'em-hell days. He charged Gantt with betraying the black community by selling his stake in a TV station, an interest that had been acquired cheaply under a minority-business program. Next came an ad showing Gantt accepting a campaign contribution from Jesse Jackson. The state Republican Party then mailed out 150,000 postcards to residents of heavily black precincts warning that anyone who violated regulations by giving erroneous information while voting could spend five years in prison.

The most effective blow came eight days before the election. A widely broadcast commercial that was quickly dubbed the "white hands" spot showed the hands of a worker crumpling a letter of rejection. The narration: "You needed that job, but they had to give it to a minority because of a racial quota. Is that really fair? Gantt says it is." In fact, Gantt had said the opposite about quotas, but the ad put him on the defensive. His response -- "This time, don't be taken in by the sleaze" -- failed to quench the fear and resentment ignited by Helms' adroit strategy. Said Professor Merle Black of Emory University: "It was a 1990s version of 'Wake up, white people,' " a motto of white supremacists 40 years ago.

In order to win, Gantt needed a heavy turnout of blacks, who make up 19% of the state's electorate and normally vote Democratic. That he got. But Gantt also needed at least 40% of North Carolina's whites. There he fell short by five points. The fractious campaign produced a huge vote in white precincts and an overall total of 52% to 48% in Helms' favor. The margin, like the strategy, was almost identical to Helms' three previous victories.

With reporting by Joseph J. Kane/Raleigh