The Political Interest

By Michael Kramer

For George Bush, abortion is the issue from hell. "You know how he deals with it," Republican National Committee chairman Lee Atwater told me shortly before he died last March. "He doesn't. You mention abortion to the President and he stares at the floor, fiddles with his glasses, paces around the room, trots out some old story to change the subject. Those who need to talk to him about it check his mood closely. If he's testy, you postpone the discussion -- and since there's no surer way to make him testy than to mention abortion, most often those discussions never take place."

Postponement is a luxury Bush can no longer afford. The President has already vetoed legislation broadening abortion rights five times, and a sixth, even more controversial proposal will hit his desk soon. This time the question concerns abortion counseling. Congress has voted to overturn the "gag rule," the federal regulation that forbids doctors at 4,000 federally funded family-planning clinics even to mention the abortion option to pregnant women. Another veto is expected, but the White House and Republican campaign advisers are split over the political repercussions.

The "let it be" school points to the President's sagging popularity and proposes that Bush avoid adding to his troubles by appearing to stifle free speech. This group would let Congress's action become law. The "stick it to 'em" school is led by White House chief of staff John Sununu, a longtime antiabortion activist. Sununu and his allies argue that a veto will protect Bush's political base. "There's no chance the right-to-lifers will defect to the Democrats if he signs the bill," says a White House aide. "What we're worried about is their staying home on Election Day. It is increasingly clear that we're going to need an energized pro-life vote in the '92 general election -- and possibly even before, if Pat Buchanan challenges the President in the primaries. This is no time to violate the old axiom. We've got to stay with the folks who brought us to the dance, and the pro-lifers are a large part of that contingent."

The gag-rule debate is only the latest skirmish in a war over abortion that could injure Bush severely. The ultimate battle will be joined if the Supreme Court overturns the landmark abortion-rights decision, Roe v. Wade, before next year's election -- an action some pro-choice activists would ironically welcome. Planned Parenthood, for one, is eager to throw the issue into the political arena as quickly as possible, and so is urging the high court to consider immediately Pennsylvania's restrictive abortion law, on the assumption that the conservative Justices appointed by Bush and Ronald Reagan would use the occasion to strike down Roe. Almost every Bush aide except Sununu is apoplectic at that possibility. The last thing they want is for abortion to become the campaign issue that tears the electorate apart; they've got enough trouble with the economy. Most observers believe the court will wait, but even if reconsidering Roe is put off until 1993, Bush will face another bruising fight over abortion at next summer's Republican Party convention in Houston.

A group of G.O.P. activists encouraged by Atwater's "Big Tent" philosophy -- the notion that the party can accommodate different ideological views -- are out to modify the party platform's antiabortion plank. As currently written, the platform asserts that "the unborn child has a fundamental right to life which cannot be infringed," a position that refuses to embrace exceptions for rape, incest or danger to the mother's life. "We are not going to roll over again," says Ann Stone, who heads Republicans for Choice. "We will continue to be somewhat civil, but we are no longer going to be silent."

Stone likes the pro-choice Republicans' chances because of the take-no- prisoners rhetoric of pro-life Republicans like Phyllis Schlafly and because of widespread revulsion against the tactics of Operation Rescue, the organization whose efforts to close abortion clinics in Wichita will expand to five other cities this week. Stone has already raised close to $1 million and hopes to have organized 250,000 "Choice Republicans" by January. She has cleverly cast the issue as one of freedom from governmental tampering with individual rights. "Schlafly would have you think that to be pro-choice means you must be pro-abortion," says Stone in her most successful fund-raising letter. Schlafly "doesn't believe a woman has the right to make this important decision for herself . . . As Republicans, we oppose government interference in our private lives."

A majority of the 1988 G.O.P. convention delegates were pro-choice. They supported the pro-life position out of loyalty to Bush. Most of those delegates will return next year, and Stone hopes this time they will vote their conscience. She is actively lobbying the '88 delegates, and she is chartering state affiliates to ensure that pro-choice Republicans challenge pro-lifers when the '92 delegates are selected. Insisting that "no one wants to hurt the President," Stone's suggested platform language would gracefully bow to Bush's antiabortion views while stating clearly that dissent from the President's stance can be tolerated by the party without recrimination. Sununu, naturally, is against watering down the pro-life provisions. In mid- September he stated that the President will accept "no change" in the platform. But on Oct. 8 Vice President Dan Quayle indicated that Atwater's Big Tent is both politically wise and consistent with Bush's thinking. Either Sununu or Quayle is wrong -- and Bush isn't talking.

This one could go down to the wire, with the President bending to the political winds as he perceives them at the time. All that is certain is that whatever position Bush finally adopts will be glorified as an affirmation of principle -- and that principle will be the last thing on his mind.