MARTIN F. NOLAN

A whiff of pragmatism at a GOP gathering in California

By Martin F. Nolan, Globe Staff, March 3, 1999

SACRAMENTO, Calif. - While the junior varsity scrimmaged here, the stars stayed aloof. George Walker Bush was in Texas. Elizabeth Hanford Dole was wherever top-tier candidates go to avoid wretches mired in single-digit misery.

Bush and Dole prosper in the polls because of name identification and also because they shun depressing events like a weekend hoedown of California Republicans. The party that delivered 11 nominees to the national ticket in this century once savored good times, but the Golden State electorate's rebuke to the GOP was thorough, extinguishing its high spirits.

They argued about abortion, which they always do. In the first contested election in 28 years for state chairman, a conservative candidate lost to a very conservative candidate. The same thing happened in the race for vice chairman. But the vote was closer than many expected, and the rhetoric lacked the barbecue flavor that usually accompanies such fratricidal rites. In this party the zealots have become zombies, and pragmatism, not Prozac, is becoming the drug of choice.

Many delegates ignored live candidates to focus on the absentee from Texas. Bush's candidacy is moving from a dangerous Mario Cuomo stage to an equally risky Edmund Muskie phase. In 1987, Cuomo was "Hamlet on the Hudson," undecided about whether running for president was more important than staying in Albany to wrestle the Legislature. Bush places a high priority on Austin, but is nudging closer toward a candidacy.

His entourage is swelling with strangers eager to fall in love before the first blind date. In 1971, Democrats also swooned over Muskie, the Maine senator whom they hoped would evict Richard Nixon from the White House. When Muskie faltered, his admirers were trapped inside the bandwagon.

A clutch of California Republican legislators here tossed a draft-Bush pizza party during the convention. The pizza was free -- important symbolism, since the event competed with a luncheon address by Steve Forbes, the New Jersey magazine heir who spent his own millions in 1996, much of it to bash fellow candidate Bob Dole.

Bush may pass on federal matching funds so he can compete with Forbes. Bush's fellow Texan, the late John B. Connally, tried self-financing in 1971 to no avail. But Bush's fans do not compare his candidacy to that of Connally, Cuomo, or Muskie. They hearken back to another native of Texas, Dwight D. Eisenhower, the last Republican president elected on his first try as a candidate. That was in 1952, as Lamar Alexander points out, hoping that his party will prefer a familiar face like his. Republicans are hierarchical and often favor experienced candidates and familiar faces, but maybe a familiar name will do, especially in desperate times. How desperate?

"I was Republican Party chairman in Fresno County at 27 years old in the year after Watergate," recalled Bill Jones, the secretary of state, one of the few Republicans to survive a statewide sweep by Democrats. "I've seen the bottom. This isn't the bottom."

The bottom seemed close to the dispirited delegates. Even at the vendors' bazaar, anti-Clinton T-shirts and buttons lacked the power to shock. Such material no longer amuses, while it grosses out the faithful. Reports on Clinton's behavior have robbed his foes of their righteousness.

Fringe groups are still sex-obsessed. The Young Americans for Freedom offered a loathsome leaflet that shows how effortlessly they can move from Red-baiting to gay-baiting.

But even paladins of morality can change. Bush has said he would answer "None of your business" to questions about his past personal life. I asked the Rev. Louis Sheldon of the Traditional Values Coalition about that response, and he replied, "As long as he doesn't lie." Sheldon, leaning toward Forbes, plans to visit Texas soon. As the preacher said, "I'm tired of losing."