The problem with a Republican ticket of Bob Dole and Michigan governor John Engler is the image it projects, says a close associate of Ohio governor George Voinovich. “What’s the picture? Two thugs.” Engler partisans give as good as they get. “The one thing the Republicans who’ve sniped at Engler have in common,” says Engler strategist Michael Murphy, “is they’ve raised taxes.” Meanwhile, GOP consultant Jay Smith, a pal of Sen. John McCain of Arizona, dismisses Engler and Voinovich as featherweights: “If you pick a garden- variety running mate like one of those Midwest governors — I don’t mean to denigrate anybody — you lose.”
The rule of thumb that you don’t campaign for the vice presidency has been violated beyond repair this year. At least a half-dozen prominent Republicans are running to be Dole’s choice. And several are running hard, dispatching allies to talk them up and snipe at rivals. Of course, no one admits to such a breathless quest, or to engaging in negative tactics. Former South Carolina governor Carroll Campbell “is not campaigning to be vice president as some others are,” harrumphs Campbell adviser Bob Rusbuldt. Nor is Engler “running for it,” claims Murphy. McCain has this to say about the phenomenon: “Some of those not running are sending out their resumes.” As for himself, perish the thought: “I’m not interested and don’t want it.”
What’s striking about the vice-presidential race is how public it is — and how nasty. Voinovich adviser Greg Stevens produced a 12-minute video touting Voinovich and sent it to 1,500 folks in the political community, including Dole. California attorney general Dan Lungren held a reception in Washington. Engler, exploiting his perch as president of the Republican Governors” Association, has flooded Washington with press releases (“RGA Chairman Governor Engler Praises Dole For Taking On Judicial Activism”) and a glossy brochure.
The new rule for vice-presidential politics is this: It’s not enough to play up your attributes — you must destroy your rivals. The trashing is usually left to aides, but Illinois governor Jim Edgar actually did it himself. “I don’t know how, particularly, John Engler finds the time he spends — an inordinate time to me — in Washington,” Edgar told Richard L. Berke of the New York Times. “Apparently, you can do that. I just haven’t been able to figure out how to do that. Nor do I really want to do that.” Edgar’s criticism was unusual. More characteristic was the sly mention to me by one candidate’s adviser of two unfavorable stories about Voinovich in Ohio newspapers. The adviser was only too happy to send them along, plus two others that won’t be found in Voinovich’s press kit.
Why has the quest for the vice presidency become such a full-blown affair? Three reasons. First, Dole wrapped up the Republican presidential nomination in early March, leaving little else for politicians and the press to dwell on until the conventions in August. “What else is there to talk about?” asks Stevens, the Voinovich partisan. Second, there’s a plethora of Republicans actively interested in being picked by Dole, and each needs to differentiate himself from the pack. And every candidate has a cluster of political consultants and advisers in his orbit ready to extol their principal and denigrate the others. “The veepstakes is a diversion for people with a lot of time on their hands,” says Murphy.
The person who transformed the vice-presidential selection process is not Dole or any of the hopefuls, but Stevens. Early this year, he took footage from a 1990 interview with Voinovich and his wife, Janet, spliced it together with news film, and produced a video called “Governor George Voinovich — Working Harder, Working Smarter.” Then last winter he sent a copy to every governor, member of Congress, and important Republican, as well as scores of political reporters. To pay for it, Stevens used funds from Voinovich’s burgeoning war chest for a Senate race in 1998 against Democrat John Glenn.
Voinovich supposedly has instructed aides not to promote him for the vice presidency. Stevens says he “acted in violation of that.” Still, Voinovich loved the video. “He’s still talking about it,” says Stevens. And it’s no wonder. It casts him as a conservative who not only rescued Cleveland from bankruptcy and despair when he was mayor in the 1980s, but also has saved Ohio taxpayers $ 4 billion. Despite Voinovich’s putative orders, Stevens continues to distribute the video and push the governor for vice president.
So does Sen. Mike DeWine of Ohio, who is not likely to be acting without Voinovich’s full knowledge. “We’ve never elected a Republican president without Ohio,” argues DeWine, “and I think Voinovich brings Ohio. The last poll showed Voinovich adding three points [to Dole] in Ohio. That makes the difference. The race will be within three points.”
DeWine takes the high road, declining to attack Voinovich’s competition. Stevens isn’t so finicky, eagerly zinging the other contenders. Engler? “He’s not as good a message-deliverer as George Voinovich.” Campbell? “He’s problematic because of his recent job” as head of the American Council of Life Insurance, a Washington-based trade and lobbying group.
But it was the video that stirred the other candidates in the top tier — Engler, McCain, Campbell — into action. Naturally, they denounced it (while probably wishing they had put one out first). “We;ve got a record, so we don’t need a video or other gimmicky devices,” sneers Murphy, Engler’s man. And, Murphy asks rhetorically, “do they have the pro-affirmativeaction, pro- gun-control, and tax-increase stuff in it?” For the record, the answer is no.
“Carroll Campbell is not going to be producing any Hollywood video on why he should be vice president,” says Campbell adviser Rusbuldt. Besides, only a small group of people will decide who winds up as Dole’s veep, says McCain- ite Jay Smith, and they already know Voinovich: “They don’t need a video.”
Engler has had more than a video bedeviling him. Because of his numerous and highly visible trips to Washington, his TV appearances, and the public- relations offensive by his allies, Engler had emerged by early April as the front-runner for the vice presidency. Or at least, he was the media-anointed front-runner. This brought a new level of scrutiny for which Engler was not prepared. The Detroit Free Press submitted a list of 20 questions about his personal life, which included: “Have you ever been in a fistfight?” Rumors about his draft status during the Vietnam war got into the press. Columnist Mark Shields hammered him for not serving in Vietnam. The Washington Times wrote about his divorce in 1987. (Engler remarried in 1990 and his wife recently had triplets.)
To cope, Engler had to establish what is, in effect, a campaign organization. His gubernatorial press secretary, John Truscott, would handle policy questions. Dan Pero, fresh from running Lamar Alexander’s presidential bid, would handle queries about personal matters like the divorce. Pero, now managing Michigander Jim Nicholson’s senatorial bid, is doing this as an unpaid volunteer. He ran Engler’s two successful gubernatorial campaigns and also introduced Engler to his wife. Aides were sent to examine Engler’s draft record to make sure his story stood up — “pro-active checking,” Murphy calls it. All they found was a “chronology” of his physicals and changes in draft status. He was categorized 1-Y for being slightly overweight.
Soon Engler’s plummeting prospects began to pick up again, partly because of a windfall. His former wife, Colleen, who now works for the International Republican Institute in Washington, saw a story about the divorce in the Free Press and called the reporter who wrote it. The result? “Cross off one potential obstacle to the unofficial and unacknowledged bid by Gov. John Engler for the Republican vice presidential nomination — a vindictive ex- spouse,” wrote reporter Dawson Bell. Colleen House was quoted as saying she was no longer bitter about the divorce and had voted twice for Engler for governor. Had Engler been unfaithful, as she had suggested in divorce papers? “That’s a question that only John can answer,” she said. “But does it matter to me now? Of course not.”
Engler’s strongest ally in Washington, Sen. Spencer Abraham of Michigan, happens to be Dole’s favorite GOP freshman. But Abraham hasn’t intervened with Dole on Engler’s behalf yet, nor has DeWine for Voinovich. Abraham is, however, happy to make the case to everyone else. Engler as veep would do three good things, he says. He’d bring Michigan, a swing state. He’d go after Democrats with incredible zeal. And he’d give the ticket the ability to argue that Republican ideas on growth and opportunity, which have succeeded in Michigan, are bound to work nationally. Joblessness, for example, has been lower than the national average in Michigan for 27 straight months.
The McCain candidacy has a completely different basis: He’s a war hero and Vietnam POW with whom Dole is strikingly comfortable. Since McCain was national chairman of Phil Gramm’s presidential campaign, his close tie to Dole is a bit surprising. But moments after he agreed in 1994 to back Gramm, McCain rushed to Dole’s office to promise never to say an unkind word about him. He kept his promise. Now, McCain aides also insist — and hope Dole and his senior advisers will be convinced — that McCain consistently advised Gramm to attack Patrick Buchanan, not Dole. He also is a defender of Sheila Burke, the chief of Dole’s Senate staff who often angers conservatives. “I’ve never known Sheila Burke to do anything that wasn’t at the direction of Bob Dole or in his interest,” McCain says.
If any Republican or reporter hasn’t heard of how McCain and Dole bonded during the debate last December over sending troops to Bosnia, McCain’s allies will quickly inform him. And it’s a compelling story. McCain backed Dole’s decision to support President Clinton and the deployment of 20,000 soldiers. That helped give Dole political cover. When Dole spoke on the floor, McCain sat in front of him in the parliamentarian’s section. Decades ago, Dole said, “I was wearing a John McCain bracelet proudly, a POW bracelet, and arguing with my Democratic colleagues not to cut off funding for the Vietnam war.” He sought “to derail those who would cut off funding while John McCain was in a little box over there in prison.” McCain was moved. Later, he sat in the front row when Dole debated presidential contenders in South Carolina (this was after Gramm dropped out), grinning whenever Dole looked his way in hopes of cheering him up.
Given his history, McCain doesn’t draw as much criticism as other veep contenders. “Arizona’s not a swing state,” says Murphy, downgrading McCain’s value to Dole. But, Murphy adds, “there’s a lot of respect for him in the Dole campaign. He’s an impressive guy.”
Carroll Campbell gets tougher treatment. “What,” asks Jay Smith, “does he bring? I don’t know.” Murphy argues that Republicans are “going to win South Carolina anyway. And Carroll Campbell, God bless him, doesn’t have legs in Tennessee.”
But, like McCain, Campbell has a Dole card to play. His role was critical in Dole’s breakthrough victory in the South Carolina primary in March. “Dole people will tell you the savior of their campaign was Carroll Campbell,” says Bob Rusbuldt, who runs Campbell’s political action committee, Victory America. That’s not quite what Dole people say, but they are grateful to Campbell. He also recruited a number of governors to the Dole campaign.
Campbell allies read from a single set of talking points when they discuss the vice presidency. Sure, South Carolina is a safe Republican state, but Campbell brings the entire South, where Dole is shaky today. “You can cherry- pick Michigan,” says Rusbuldt. “You can cherry-pick Ohio. Campbell brings you a whole region.” He’s the second choice of people who have another candidate. He’s pro-life but not offensive to prochoice people. But won’t his job as a Washington lobbyist detract? “That might be a oneday story, max,” Rusbuldt says. There’s a final item about Campbell that’s not in the talking points: President Clinton fears him. “They think a southern moderate is what people want,” says ex-George Bush operative Mary Matalin, who ought to know. She’s married to James Carville, Clinton’s political adviser.
Just below the top tier are three other potential running mates for Dole — Edgar of Illinois, Lungren of California, and Wisconsin governor Tommy Thompson. You can tell they’re part of the campaign because other candidates or their handlers take swipes at them. Murphy says Lungten is “actively campaigning while denying it.” Worse, “nobody’s heard of him.” Stevens says Lungren wouldn’t guarantee Dole carries California; after all, Lungren is only the state’s attorney general, not its governor. When Jay Smith, the McCain advocate, ran into Lungren in Long Beach, California, in mid-April, he addressed him as “Mr. Vice President.” Lungren “loved it,” says Smith.
In truth, Lungten has no illusions about being Dole’s pick, though it was Dole last year who initially mentioned him as a possibility. But this was done to jab California governor Pete Wilson, who was challenging Dole for the presidential nomination. Now, House speaker Newt Gingrich talks up Lungren, a Catholic and a conservative.
There’s only one person all the vice-presidential camps agree would be a powerhouse partner for Dole, and that’s Colin Powell. Backing him is safe because he’s not running, now anyway. Matalin says he won’t “unless he wants a divorce.” Dole needs to name a running mate who will make voters say, ” Mmmmm, that’s pretty interesting,” says Jay Smith, and he believes Powell would do that. DeWine, who backs Voinovich, says only Powell “changes the dynamics of the race in every state, including Ohio, overnight.” McCain says attracting Powell is still possible. It probably is. But my guess is if Powell takes even a small step toward running, he’ll face exactly what the other veep candidates have: more criticism than he’s ever experienced before.
By Fred Barnes