Rot on the Right

By LAURENCE I. BARRETT HOUSTON

Judging by the doctrinaire platform going before the Republican Convention this week, the conservative coalition that Ronald Reagan constructed 12 years ago seems as robust as ever. Just below the surface, however, the right wing suffers a mid-life crisis that threatens its future -- as well as the party's. The movement lacks an inspirational leader, a unifying cause and an external enemy big enough to outweigh its internal divisions.

A symptom of the malady: Pat Buchanan, who assaulted Bush from the right in the early primaries, is searching for a new label to replace "conservative." His sister and campaign manager, Bay Buchanan, explains, "We need something broader and more relevant. The movement was defined by what no longer exists, the cold war, and still uses a vocabulary now out of date." The fact that Bush gets diminishing credit for the U.S. victory in the cold war during his watch is a larger sign of rot on the right. "There's an amazing disconnect," says one of Bush's top campaign advisers, "between the President and conservative leaders. They can't forget that he didn't come out of their movement the way Reagan did." Nor does Bush get much respect for his vigorous pandering to right-wing concerns.

Reagan's great trick in 1980 was to unite the three main sects of "wingers": the better-dead-than-Red faction, whose main concern was fighting communism; the religious right, interested in moral issues such as abortion; and fiscal rebels for whom the great demons were high taxes and government regulation. Bush's cold-warrior credentials served as a visa when he crossed from the Establishment faction into Reagan country in 1980, but the fall of the Soviet Union has shattered the right's consensus on foreign policy. Bush admires pragmatic power-balance diplomacy of the Kissinger school. Others favor more crusading zeal, while still others want to curtail overseas involvement.

Buchanan's brand of neo-isolationism appealed to only a minority of voters during the primaries. Still, those who supported Buchanan's message managed to get his "America First" motto into the platform's final draft. Though proposals to phase out foreign aid and to castigate the Administration for granting China most-favored-nation status were voted down, the Buchanan camp did win a provision favoring tougher measures against illegal immigration from Mexico. The new plank supported placing "structures" along the border, a variation of Buchanan's idea of building frontier fences. "That's wacko," remarked Congressman Vin Weber of Minnesota, a conservative whose main concern is fiscal policy.

Weber belongs to the faction that has been pressing Bush to promote a bolder economic-growth program. After fencing over nuances with White House agents supervising the platform, the Weber group won a few concessions. One called for the "ultimate" repeal of the tax increases imposed in the 1990 deficit- reduction deal between Bush and Capitol Hill. That Bush went along with the compromise still rankles many conservatives, though others feel that the deficit would be even worse without it. Weber, who is quitting Congress, mourns the loss of fervor for Reaganomics. "It's discouraging," he says, "how little supply-side sentiment is left among elected Republicans."

Even more discouraging to Republicans of varying hues is Bush's surrender to the religious right on issues such as abortion, gay rights and pornography. Pro-choice advocates seeking even token concessions came away empty-handed. But they did get some support from yesteryear's conservative icon Barry Goldwater. The former Senator sent a letter from Arizona warning that the "convention will go down in shambles, as will the election," if the party clings to its adamant stand against abortion. Because Bush's most solid constituency now is the religious right, he cannot risk alienating it. Yet one of Bush's advisers concedes privately that "the social issues really aren't at the top of the President's agenda. What they do is let us provide contrast with Clinton."

Abortion is too narrow a cause to rally the old Reagan coalition. "It stands out now," says conservative analyst Burton Pines, "because there is so little else to galvanize the right. But it's really marginal." Pines is one of many ideologues who are cool to Bush -- "We'll vote for him holding our noses," he says -- and wonder where the next Reagan will come from. One subject of covert conversation in Houston is whether the conservative cause would be better served by a Bush victory or defeat this year. Another is which personality has the best chance of uniting the sects for the next election.

Dan Quayle appeals strongly to the social-agenda crowd, but has such heavy liabilities elsewhere that he could survive only if a second Bush term proved highly successful. Housing and Urban Development Secretary Jack Kemp, the optimistic supply-side advocate, draws the economic boomers and is politically correct on social issues. Texas Senator Phil Gramm has a strong regional base and conservative fiscal credentials but may suffer from the perception that he has cuddled up too snugly with the party establishment. James Baker is even more alien to the wingers than Bush. Baker would have a shot at the 1996 nomination only if parts of the right wing got so disgusted with the G.O.P. that they bolted to form a new party. Given the fractious mood, and the strong appeal of Ross Perot's aborted candidacy, that old idea could become reality after 1992.