Rendezvous with Destiny: Ronald Reagan and the Campaign that Changed America

by Shirley, Craig

  Howard Baker by this point had finally dropped out of the race after repeated weak performances, and two of his now unemployed aides, Doug Bailey and John Deardourff, told reporters they were signing on to the Ford campaign. Lowell Weicker endorsed the Ford candidacy, but most in the GOP viewed this as a mixed blessing at best.56

  In mid-March, Bob Mosbacher, a Bush confidant and fundraiser who nonetheless worshiped Ford, went into Dave Keene's office at Bush's headquarters. Mosbacher shut the door and said to Bush's political director, “While we have done a great job thus far, it is clear that only the president [Ford] is in a position to stop Reagan and that we must therefore figure out how to get Bush to step aside so that Ford can be convinced to enter the race.” Keene was livid. As he recalled years later, “I told Mosbacher the idea was absurd, and if he thought there was a chance in hell that I'd participate in such a scheme or support Ford over Reagan, he was nuts.” Keene, who had a temper like few men in politics, didn't stop there. His voice rising, he told Bush's fair-weather friend, “There are few times in life when one can say he made a real difference, but I could always look back on '76 and the fact that I'd played a role in ridding the nation and the GOP of Ford.” Keene followed with a string of obscenities about Ford and Bush's betrayer sitting there in front of him. Mosbacher left Keene's office and they never spoke again.57

  Keene later reflected, “The Bush campaign consisted of those who really thought Bush would make a good president and were supporting him for that reason; those who thought he'd make a stronger general election candidate than Reagan; and those who were simply using him because they hated and/or feared Reagan. Bush sometimes couldn't tell these folks apart.”58

  All the Republican candidates were forced to address the growing Ford rumors. Bush said Ford's entry would “complicate” things for him, but he kept telling people he didn't think Ford would get into the race. Anderson got off a good line when he said Ford should not “disturb his retirement.”59 Reagan kept his cool and showed off his wit. When reporters asked why Ford might be willing to give up the golf links for the campaign trail, Reagan quipped, “Maybe he's developed a slice.” Reporters laughed.60

  The next day, though, Reagan toughened up his message. “Frankly, I thought it was very thoughtless of him to say anything that could give comfort and aid to the enemy,” referring to Ford's comments that Reagan could not win.61

  Within a matter of hours, word leaked that it was official: Ford would get into the race the following week.62

  Ford went through a charade with the media, proclaiming that he was playing no role in the draft-Ford campaign. In fact, behind the scenes, he was taking and making phone calls and lining up support for his imminent entry.

  Reagan, however, was holding all the cards and he knew it. If Ford got in, it would doom Bush and Anderson, especially with the southern primaries coming up. They would divide the moderate GOP vote, leaving the conservatives for him. Asked whether he thought he could beat Ford, Reagan smiled and said, “Yep.” When pressed as to whether Ford would tarnish his own image by joining the race, Reagan quipped, “It's a nice thing to think about.”63 Reagan was practically begging Ford to run.

  RONALD REAGAN WAS IN Florida on the day of the South Carolina primary, but he still mangled both Bush and Connally in the Gamecock State. With help from his in-state organizer, an intense young man named Lee Atwater, Reagan took 54 percent of the GOP vote while Connally received 30 percent and Bush a paltry 15 percent. Reagan, helped by crossover Democrats, swept all six congressional districts and, with them, all twenty-five delegates.64

  Democrats voting for Reagan did so at their peril. The state Democratic Party chairman, Donald Fowler, warned that they might not be allowed to vote in his party's caucuses the following week. Conservative Democrats in the state found Fowler repugnant. Turnout was five times as high as the record previously set in 1974. A furious Fowler threatened that he would force Democrats to sign a pledge of fidelity, but loyalty oaths had been out of fashion in the South since Reconstruction.65

  If there had been a vote-buying scheme cooked up by either Bush or Connally, it had not produced. In one all-black precinct in Columbia, by 5 P.M. only two voters had shown up to vote in the GOP primary.66

  Connally failed even in his modest goal of keeping Reagan under 40 percent. He'd spent $500,000 out of his own pocket in South Carolina, but it was for naught. Big John put what was left of his campaign on hold and went home to Texas to “reassess.” He finally faced reality and referred to Reagan as “the champ.”67 Connally had been helped by one of the more creative media consultants, Roger Ailes, but even Ailes's powers could not stop the runaway train of Ronald Reagan. After thirteen months and millions spent, John Bowden Connally had nothing to show for his efforts save one lonely sixty-seven-year-old delegate from Arkansas, Ada Mills. She became known as the “$11 million delegate.”68 Toward the end of the road, Connally—who was all personal ambition—told a reporter, “I'm not consumed by personal ambition.”69

  Reporters mourned the demise of Connally. From his Stetson right down to his silver inlaid cowboy boots, he was always entertaining, always good copy, he always had a good joke, and he was a terrific public speaker.

  Prior to his withdrawal, Connally called Reagan to inform him of his decision. Reagan listened but wisely did not ask for his endorsement; instinctively, he knew this would not have been the proper time. There was no report of Connally's calling Bush.

  In the end, there was just too much of Connally for voters to swallow: too much Texan, too much wheeler-dealer, too much rumor and scandal and bravado. His campaign also spent foolishly, including furnishing and renting a lavish apartment in Virginia for his campaign treasurer. They had chartered expensive planes and expensive hotel rooms. His first manager, Eddie Mahe, was paid almost $9,000 a month. Of the $12 million Connally spent, about $10 million went to operations, staff, and consultants. Only about $2 million went into media.70 But there was another reason why Connally never took off:

  “What did us in?” lamented Connally's longtime aide Julian Read. “His name is Ronald Reagan. And he's been on the road and on television for years. He has a very solid, emotional constituency that we didn't penetrate. He just beat us.”71 Losing consultants never blame themselves and losing candidates never blame themselves.

  George Bush's foolish diversion into South Carolina—a decision motivated by his contempt of Connally—hurt his campaign badly. The original plan had been to bypass the state and let Reagan and Connally beat the tar out of each other and deplete their resources. Bush could then take on either a weakened Reagan or a resurgent Connally. Bush had unwisely gambled time, money, and people in an attempt to achieve an impossible win. The two Texans made the classic mistake of getting into an ugly spraying match with each other; GOP voters, repulsed by the brawl, went with Reagan.

  Reagan might have won South Carolina in any event, but the fight between Bush and Connally—with the Bush campaign producing seedy tape recordings of conversations between Connally's in-state and Washington staffers plotting a scheme to “buy” African-American votes in the state—pushed Reagan well over the 40 percent his campaign thought he'd get.72 Reagan smilingly called himself “cautiously ecstatic.”73

  BEFORE THE SOUTH CAROLINA primary, Bush had been competitive with Reagan in Alabama, behind just 45–39 percent, according to a Darden poll.74 He was shelling out several hundred thousand dollars, mailing the state heavily, and spending considerable time there. With Connally effectively out of the contest, Bush might have expected to reap some of the 10 percent support of his old antagonist. But when the ballots were counted on March 11, he was demolished in Alabama. Reagan, who had spent just a little over $30,000, took every county and received almost 69 percent of the GOP primary vote to Bush's 26 percent.75

  In Georgia the same day, Reagan did even better, winning 73 percent to Bush's paltry 13 percent.76 And in Florida, Reagan received more than 57 percent of the vote and Bush 30 percent.77 On th
e day, Reagan took 105 delegates to only 9 for Bush.78 It was especially embarrassing for Keene, who had billed himself in part as the Bush campaign's ace in the hole for the South.

  Alabama and Georgia allowed crossover voting, and conservative Democrats helped add to Reagan's handsome victories in each. Florida had a closed primary and Reagan still won handily there, which should have been a wakeup call to those who said Reagan was not the favorite within the GOP. When Reagan won in crossover states, critics complained that Democrats should not be allowed to decide the nominee of the Republican Party. But in the same breath they said Reagan had no appeal beyond the conservatives in the GOP.

  Reagan should have won Florida in 1976 and would have had he not unexpectedly lost New Hampshire to Ford and then stumbled on the Social Security issue in the Sunshine State. Reagan wasn't about to make the same mistake twice. This time he made it clear to the oldsters that the government-run pension plan would stay healthy if he was elected.

  Reagan had also gone hard after the Cuban-American vote in Florida. He charged that Carter had “eliminated a clandestine radio station that was broadcasting messages of freedom to Cuba.” He said “there was ‘excessive surveillance’ of anti-Castro refugees, and Cubans frequently were hauled up before grand juries.” Reagan laid a wreath at a memorial for the Cubans who had died in the Bay of Pigs invasion.79 Everywhere he went he was greeted with “Viva Reagan!” by the enthusiastic anti-Communists. He shucked his coat in the sweltering heat and told the crowd in Little Havana, “Our country still has an obligation.” Someone yelled out, “We are ready again, anytime.”80 He then plunged into the gathering of thousands.

  Bush limped back North after being bloodied in the southern primaries. But he was an extremely competitive man and turned away talk in his campaign to pack it in and call it a day. The good news was that Bush had beaten Reagan in Iowa, Maine, Puerto Rico, and Massachusetts; he still had money in the bank and more favorable terrain ahead in Illinois, New York, Connecticut, and Pennsylvania; he'd outlasted Bob Dole, Howard Baker, and John Connally; and he had become quite able on the stump, firing up crowds when he was moved to do so. The bad news was the specter of Gerald Ford getting in. In desperation, Bush suggested that Ford's age could be used against him, as it had been used against Reagan.81

  Bush was distraught that he never had the chance for a two-man race with Reagan. Just when it appeared he might finally get his wish, John Anderson had appeared out of nowhere. Each vote Anderson was taking was coming right out of Bush's back pocket, it seemed to Bush's advisers. In the weeks up to and after Iowa, Bush had become the media darling. After the New England primaries, the white-haired, bespectacled Anderson stirred the passions of the national media. Reagan had the conservatives, Anderson had the media, and Bush was left holding air. Bush's press secretary, Pete Teeley, said Anderson was getting “the kind of influx of publicity, money, enthusiasm and support that we had after Iowa.”82

  Anderson had bypassed the southern GOP primaries, knowing his message would not go down well there. He was waiting for the chance to take on Reagan and a weakened Bush in the March 18 primary in Illinois, his home state. He also was making plans for Wisconsin's upcoming primary, counting on the state's progressive Republican tradition. Anderson was clearly courting liberals; he took out a full-page ad in the New York Times with an open appeal to its liberal readers for campaign contributions. The title of the ad was “Why Not the Best?” No one seemed to remember that this was the title of Carter's campaign book in 1976. The ad was plastered with kind comments from the Beautiful People, including writers Sally Quinn of Georgetown and Tom Wicker of Manhattan.83 It also came to light that Anderson had signed a direct-mail fundraising letter for the National Abortion Rights Action League (NARAL), which planned to give the money to George McGovern, Morris Udall, and other pro-choice representatives.84

  TED KENNEDY HAD BEEN wiped out in the southern primaries, as Jimmy Carter took 183 delegates on his home turf.85 Carter humiliated Kennedy, winning 82 percent to 13 percent in Alabama, 88 percent to 9 percent in the president's native Georgia, and 61 percent to 22 percent in Florida.86

  The outcomes weren't surprising. Kennedy not only had low expectations for Florida, he also had low funds. Carter could claim 390 contributors of $1,000 in Florida to Kennedy's 84. Even in Palm Beach, a second Kennedy home, he had only five $1,000 contributors—and one of those was his mother.87

  Muhammad Ali worked the Sunshine State for Carter. “I'm here because I'm a brother. We got to pick the best of the whites and I say that is Carter.”88 On the eve of the Florida primary, the Carter administration announced that seniors would get a 13 percent cost-of-living Social Security increase.89 Carter had mastered the spoils system.

  A NEW ABC NEWS–HARRIS poll showed Ford to be favored over Reagan among Republicans, 36–32 percent. With independents thrown into the mix, Ford widened his lead over Reagan to 33–27 percent.90

  Tom Reed of the Draft Ford Committee held a press conference in Washington and released the names of one hundred prominent moderate Republicans who supported Ford's entry into the race. Reed's scenario for Ford to win the nomination, however, stretched credulity. His plan was for a Ford surrogate to run in Ford's stead in Texas, since the filing deadline had closed there, and then beat Reagan in the Lone Star State. In addition, Ford would have to beat Reagan in California. Reagan had beaten—or more accurately, crushed—the incumbent Ford in both states in 1976.

  Before sweeping the South, Reagan had wanted Ford to get in and divide the moderate vote. Now, with the momentum on his side, Reagan wanted Ford to stay out. Not because the former president might gain the nomination—there was little chance Ford could do this unless there was a brokered convention—but because a Ford entry into the race might marginalize Reagan. Nelson Rockefeller's late entry in 1964 had marginalized Barry Goldwater, preventing him from reaching out to middle-of-the-road voters in the general election.

  Ford continued to draw extensive media attention. He leveled Jimmy Carter, saying, “My sole, single purpose … is to get President Carter out of the White House.” Ford didn't stop there, telling a Republican audience, “The nation is in peril. Mr. Carter has forfeited his immunity at home. This country is in deep, deep trouble.”91

  Ford's attack was harsh, especially since he'd met with Carter that very morning and come out of it praising the president.92 But that was Washington. Kiss 'em in private and bash 'em in public. A Carter man returned the Ford fire: “He's going to get chewed up alive if he comes in. He's a nice man, but let's face it, his were do-nothing years.”93

  In his Washington Post column, David Broder pointed out the practical impediments to a Ford candidacy. Ford would miss filing in twenty-one primaries that would choose 908 delegates out of 1,994. Also, Ford's charge that conservatives could not win a general election drove men and women on the right up the wall. They'd had it thrown in their faces ever since the days of Goldwater and Bob Taft, and if Ford got in and actually stopped Reagan, the party would be split so badly that it might never be repaired.94

  Broder was one of the two or three best political reporters of the era. Soft-spoken, mannerly, but with a drive for the facts and boundless energy that few could match, he wrote long, thoughtful pieces that were considered “must-reads” in Washington. Even as Carter was sweeping away the Kennedy challenge and looking to stomp Reagan, Broder wrote a long piece in early 1980 about how Carter could be more vulnerable to Reagan than anyone realized.

  POSTMORTEMS ON THE SOUTH were all good for Reagan, mostly good for Carter, and awful for both Kennedy and Bush. Carter was now ahead of Kennedy in the delegate count, 283–145. Reagan had opened up a delegate lead over Bush, 167–45.95

  The presidential combatants descended upon Illinois, where new polls had Anderson surging into first place, Bush faltering, and Reagan moving into second place. It was the first midwestern primary and would also be a key battleground in the fall election.

  All waited with bated breath for
Ford's decision. Ford privately lamented that he was not getting the outpouring of support from around the country that he'd hoped for. He expressed a twinge of bitterness that few of the GOP officials he'd campaigned for had come out for his candidacy, especially key moderate governors Lamar Alexander of Tennessee, Dick Thornburgh of Pennsylvania, and John Dalton of Virginia.

  In a meeting with reporters over breakfast, Ford was clearly having second thoughts. “Reagan has the strongest base of support I've seen in politics,” he said.96

  Two days later, Ford held a subdued press conference outside his home in California with wife Betty at his side and declared, once and for all, that he would not run in 1980. Her recent victory over addictions to alcohol and pills was a factor in his decision, but his supporters were crestfallen. Only twenty-four hours earlier, they had been happily preparing to relaunch the USS Ford. Now it was “final and certain” that he would not run.97 Ford declined to endorse any candidate, but made it clear he intended on making it his business to defeat Carter in the fall. He choked up a bit during his remarks.