MARTIN F. NOLAN

Will Bush deregulate campaigning?

By Martin F. Nolan, Globe Staff, July 7, 1999

SAN FRANCISCO - On the same historic day that a 1970s special prosecutor law lapsed, allowing the decriminalization of politics, one presidential candidate also achieved an ability to deregulate politics. George W. Bush, with $36 million in his kitty, can change the campaign finance system in a most effective way: by ignoring it and letting it fall of its own absurd weight.

When -- more likely than if -- Bush rejects federal matching funds, he will present a free-market solution to a public sector nightmare. To become a leader he can set an example by listing all of his contributors instantly on the Internet.

If he is to deregulate politics, he should emulate a successful federal agency. "Government should do a few things, and do them well," the Texas governor says in campaign speeches. While his rivals roam the labyrinth of loopholes that define the Federal Election Commission, a toothless bureaucracy that scares nobody, Bush could initiate a reporting system with the thoroughness of the Securities and Exchange Commission, an agency that can send people to jail.

Republicans have been campaigning against the wrong decade. Many GOP orators attack the libertine 1960s and propose posting the Ten Commandments. From a philosophical point of view, the litigious 1970s offer a more inviting target.

The Ethics in Government Act of 1978 expired on June 30, slowing the swarm of gumshoes dispatched by special prosecutors. A frenzy to improve other people's behavior -- a hangover from the Watergate scandal -- animated the campaign finance laws of the 1970s, which were premised on the belief that all money is evil. Despite loophole after laughable loophole, succeeding Congresses have pasted Pecksniffian idiocies onto an already ramshackle structure.

Other Texans have pioneered big-money innovations in politics. John B. Connally in 1976, H. Ross Perot in 1992, and Senator Phil Gramm in 1996 all shared a trait that Bush has so far stifled: a grating ego that couldn't squeeze into the Astrodome.

When reporters asked Bush how he raised all that dough, he replied: "A wonderful personality? That's what the pundits are going to have to figure out." Pressed, he became more serious: "People are going to have to develop a level of trust with anyone who seeks public office. That is really what leadership is all about. If people think that a candidate is going to be corrupted by a $1,000 contribution, they should not vote for that person."

Bush's haul is not "soft money," the unaccountable cash that has flooded presidential campaigns since 1988. This money has arrived according to the original 1970s rulebook. From 75,000 donors, the average check to Bush is $480.

In politics, the rich get richer. His Republican rivals must sigh at the media's focus on the favorite. Between Cedar Rapids and Des Moines, Bush was followed by 108 newsfolk in Iowa, more than some candidates ever see. "We've had 49 requests for one-on-one interviews in this 2 1/2-day trip," his communications director, Karen Hughes, said here. "All I can say is we'll be back to California many times."

His rejection of federal funds will set a historical precedent for early favorites and mark a clear philosophical divide between Bush and those who plight their troth to federal matching funds. He must do more if, as he says, he is "to develop a level of trust" with the people he wishes to lead.

Although he does not need speechwriting help, as his 18-minute chat before a ballroomful of eager listeners at the St. Francis Hotel showed, Bush can claim the mantle of Ronald Reagan in two ways. First, he can echo the Gipper's skepticism about the phrase, "We're from the federal government and we're here to help you." Second, by providing his donor list with names, addresses, and business interests to the press and everyone else in cyberspace, Bush can say to voters: "Trust, but verify."