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

by Shirley, Craig

  Carter was on the defensive over Social Security, pledging not to change the system or the relationship between Social Security and Medicare. Then he attacked Reagan again—one time too many as it turned out. “Governor Reagan, as a matter of fact, began his political career campaigning around this nation against Medicare.” Carter added a few perfunctory comments about national health insurance and then finished by saying, “Governor Reagan again, typically, is against such a proposal.”75

  Howard K. Smith turned to Reagan and said, “Governor?”

  Reagan had had enough. Emitting a low chuckle, he turned to his right, smiled his famous crooked smile, looked at Carter, and delivered his immortal line:

  “There you go again.”76

  The audience forgot the earlier admonition to be silent, and laughter rolled across the Music Hall. The Gipper had just thrown his famous thundering counterpunch.

  Reagan then detailed how he had favored another plan, offered by the American Medical Association, based more on the marketplace than on the incompetence of government bureaucrats, but nobody was really listening to the rest of Reagan's reply, as heads huddled together and people whispered about the debate. Carter, smiling, hesitated in his response and went back to the safety of vilifying the Republican Party as being heartless, unlike the Democratic Party, whose historical commitments “to the working families of this nation have been extremely important to the growth in their stature and in a better quality of life for them.” He peevishly criticized Reagan for quoting Democratic presidents, as if Reagan had taken his ball away on the playground. In his next response, Reagan replied to this complaint by saying, “I was a Democrat. I said many foolish things back in those days.”77 The audience couldn't help themselves and laughed again.

  Barbara Walters asked Carter about leadership and why he thought Reagan should not be president. It was one of the few times during the debate when Carter smiled. The president deadpanned, “Barbara, reluctant as I am to say anything critical about Governor Reagan, I'll try to answer your question.”78 Ripples of laughter came from the audience at Carter's uncharacteristic wit.

  Other than that, throughout the evening, he'd been stern, trying to convey a seriousness of purpose. He quickly reverted to that mode, swinging into yet another attack on Reagan, saying that his opponent posed a danger in that he represented, on some key issues, “a radical departure … from the heritage of Eisenhower and others” in the Republican Party. Carter also snuck in a cutting remark about how Reagan had “been running for president, I think, since 1968.” In concluding, he returned to the warmonger theme, attacking Reagan once again for “careless” and “belligerent” attitudes.79

  Walters turned to Reagan and asked why he should be president and why his opponent should not. She noted that Reagan “may be equally reluctant to speak ill of your opponent.” Reagan replied, “Well, Barbara, I believe that there is a fundamental difference. And I think it has been evident in most of the answers that Mr. Carter's given tonight that he seeks the solution to anything as another opportunity for a federal government program.” Reagan swung into his federalism view of government, saying that Washington “has usurped powers and autonomy and authority that belongs back at the state and local level. It has imposed on the individual freedoms of the people, and that there are more of these things that could be solved by the people themselves if they were given a chance or by the levels of government that were closer to them.”80

  Somewhere, Thomas Jefferson was smiling.

  Reagan finished his response strongly, stating his belief that “millions of Democrats … are going to vote with us this time around. Because they too want that promise kept. It was a promise for less government and less taxes and more freedom for the people.”81

  Carter flailed desperately in his rebuttal. “I mention the radical departure of Governor Reagan from the principles or ideals or historical perspective of his own party.” He went after what the Democrats thought was Reagan's weakness, his opposition to the Equal Rights Amendment. Carter made a good case for the amendment and the GOP's historic support of the idea. Reagan answered, not well, but adequately, discussing his support for full rights for women while governor of California.82

  With time running out, both men meandered further. Carter went through a litany of items such as deregulation of trucking and airlines, as if he was mentally checking off a list of things to throw out there in defense of his four years in office. Reagan oddly went back to the Equal Right Amendment, as if he wasn't satisfied with his first answer, and then did his own checklist, as he reminded the viewing audience that he'd been a union president and still carried a union card.83

  That was the end of the questioning. The time had come for the candidates' closing statements.

  IT WAS NOW 11 P.M. on the East Coast, and each candidate would have three minutes to give his summation. Carter went first. He opened with praise for the League of Women Voters and the city of Cleveland, as befitting any good guest. The president made clear to the American people his belief in the “stark differences” between himself and his California opponent. He spoke of peace and fairness, of the loneliness of the presidency and how he'd fought to keep America out of conflicts with other nations. He did not speak of the economy, jobs, or inflation.84

  The verdict of the American people was at hand and Carter made his best case. “The American people now are facing, next Tuesday, a lonely decision,” he said. “Those listening to my voice will have to make a judgment about the future of this country, and I think they ought to remember that one vote can make a lot of difference.” For a moment, Carter had regained some of his old form and almost had the people again, but then he reverted to the lecturing schoolmarm, talking about how one vote per precinct put JFK in office in 1960 and how the lack thereof kept Hubert Humphrey out of office in 1968.85

  He concluded by speaking of human rights and American leadership in that world: “To stay strong, to stay at peace, to raise high the banner of human rights, to set an example for the rest of the world, to let our deep beliefs and commitments be felt by others in all other nations, is my plan for the future.”86

  In another era, another time, another economy, it might have sufficed, but this was 1980 and the American people couldn't save the world until and unless somebody saved their own country.

  At this point Americans had suffered through seventeen long, horrible years. They had lost a golden champion, cut down by an assassin's bullet in Dallas. They had lost a war, the first in the nation's history. They'd lost another president, because of his corruption and contempt for the Constitution. They were losing a so-called Cold War to an Evil Empire. They were losing their jobs, they were losing their homes, and they were losing the value of a hard-earned buck. The country had lost the respect of its former allies and earned only the scorn of enemies. Years of bad news piled atop more bad news had battered the “can-do” American psyche into the ground.

  RONALD WILSON REAGAN HAD traveled the length of breadth of America for more than forty years, seeing the best—and the worst—of his country and his fellow countrymen. After all these years, after listening—really listening to tens of thousands of his fellow citizens, especially over the past four years—he knew their hearts, he believed in their goodness, he felt their pain, and he desperately wanted to do something about their plight.

  He hadn't only spoken with and listened to Americans. Other politicians sloughed off their mail to factotums to answer. Not Reagan. He read his mail. Not all of it, to be sure, but enough to gain an understanding and perspective that eluded other politicians. Reagan called himself a “citizen politician” and he really believed it.87

  In those letters, Reagan read of joy and sorrow, of gain and loss, of hopes and dreams, of life and death. And to each, Reagan answered—not with a dashed-off note, but often with long handwritten letters, tender letters offering advice, offering counsel, articulating his philosophy, giving solace.

  He also read through a file of new
s clips prepared for him each morning by his staff. The file contained the news of the day, coverage of Carter, himself, world events, and the like, but what he was most interested in were the other stories, often from small-town newspapers, about the American people. About blue ribbons awarded at livestock shows, about boys winning Eagle Scout, about the charity of Girl Scouts, about unselfish and heroic deeds performed by what he called the “quiet, everyday heroes of American life.”88 Reagan believed America was a great country because America was a good country.

  Through all this Reagan gained an insight and honed a political philosophy that was based upon the most fundamental creed of the founders: That power should reside with the many people and not the few elites. That power should flow upward and not downward. That elected officials were truly “public servants” who had a solemn compact with those who put them into power. And that the first obligation of the national government was to secure the peace and freedom for those who allowed them to govern.

  He understood the quintessential American because he was the quintessential American. He'd never forgotten where he'd come from.

  Ronald Reagan, age sixty-nine, now stood before the American people, exactly in the place he wanted to be and in the moment he wanted to possess. Now was his chance to make the case he'd always wanted to make since that time long ago when he was a dreamy boy whose ambition was to one day save others.

  As the camera ever so slowly moved in for a close-up, Reagan began his remarks by thanking the “ladies” of the league and expressing his regret that John Anderson couldn't have been on the stage that night. He moved quickly into his closing argument to the American people:

  Next Tuesday is Election Day. Next Tuesday all of you will go to the polls, you'll stand there in the polling place and make a decision. I think when you make that decision it might be well if you would ask yourself:

  Are you better off than you were four years ago?

  Is it easier for you to go and buy things in the stores than it was four years ago? Is there more or less unemployment in the country than there was four years ago? Is America as respected throughout the world as it was? Do you feel that our security is as safe? That we're as strong as we were four years ago?

  And if you answer all of those questions yes, why then I think your choice is very obvious as to who you'll vote for.

  If you don't agree, if you don't think that this course that we've been on for the last four years is what you would like to see us follow for the next four, then I could suggest another choice that you have.

  This country doesn't have to be in the shape that it is in. We do not have to go on sharing in scarcity, with the country getting worse off, with unemployment growing.

  We talk about the unemployment lines. If all the unemployed today were in a single line, allowing two feet for each one of them, that line would reach from New York City to Los Angeles, California.

  All of this can be cured. And all of it can be solved.… I know that the economic program that I have proposed for this nation in the next few years can resolve many of the problems that trouble us today.…

  I would like to have a crusade today. And I would like to lead that crusade with your help. And it would be one to take government off the backs of the great people of this country and turn you loose again to do those things that I know you can do so well, because you did them and made this country great.

  Thank you.89

  36

  MELTDOWN

  “Ask Amy, She Knows.”

  At the conclusion of the debate, as at the beginning, Ronald Reagan walked across the stage and met President Carter at his podium. The president was bending over, picking up a piece of paper or perhaps trying to undo his microphone wire. When he saw Reagan he stood up, clasped Reagan's right hand with both of his, and smiled genuinely, as if he had just discovered newfound respect for his adversary.

  The Reagan and Carter families and friends gathered on the stage, smiling and mingling. The contenders were hugged and kissed by their wives. Nancy Reagan was the first one on stage to greet her husband. Mrs. Reagan had been opposed to the debate, worried about what Carter might do to “Ronnie.” It was one of the few times that Reagan did not seek her counsel.1 Now Mrs. Reagan was beaming. Reagan, too, seemed pleased with how things went. He told friends of the encounter, “I've examined myself and I can't find any wounds.”2 The next day he would say he hadn't been nervous about being on the same stage as the president, quipping, “No, I've been on the same stage with John Wayne.”3

  President Carter and First Lady Rosalynn Carter left the hall. They forced smiles, but in his diary the night of the debate, Carter memorialized his contempt for Reagan: “Reagan was, ‘Aw, shucks, this and that. I'm a grandfather, and … I love peace,’ etc. He has his memorized lines, and he pushes a button and they come out.”4 Carter's media man, Gerald Rafshoon, had written a memo back in July saying that the cornerstone of the campaign should be, “Carter Is Smarter Than Reagan”; the president would not let the idea go.5 But at least Carter was not as cocksure as he had been before the debate, which he walked into completely confident in his ability to obliterate Reagan. The morning after, when asked whether he had won the debate, Carter surprisingly said, “It's hard to say.”6 Years later, Carter maintained that the debate was “a standoff,” because “my folks thought I won … his folks thought he won.”7

  Carter's mission had been to “make Reagan the issue,” and unfortunately for the president, he succeeded beyond his wildest expectations. More than 105 million people had watched the debate, according to Newsweek, making it by far the most viewed debate in American history.8 Those millions of viewers had learned that the Californian was not a mad bomber, he was not an empty suit, he was not a mean man who would throw old people out into snow banks, he was not a bigot or stupid. They discovered a man far different from the one portrayed by the Carter campaign; Rafshoon's July memo, typical of the way the president's men dismissed their opponent, contemptuously referred to Reagan as “too old, not smart, too simplistic, doesn't read, naieve [sic], inexperienced, right-wing.”9 Instead, viewers saw a man of humility but self-confidence, a conservative who believed that compassion came from the home, the church, and the community and that it could not—and more importantly should not—be imposed by governmental fiat.

  Carter had been right when he said that there were “stark differences” between the two candidates.10

  But many of the elites—a.k.a. the “Beautiful People”—were not sure how to respond. It couldn't be possible that Ronald Reagan—that actor—had beaten President Carter, could it? Nawww.

  Therefore, like the townspeople in the tale of The Emperor's New Clothes, they scurried to the safety of their elitist friends to say that President Carter had won the debate because other members of the elites said Carter won the debate. “All the people throughout the city had already heard of the wonderful cloth and its magic and all were anxious to learn how wise or how stupid their friends and neighbors might be.”11

  In their postdebate analysis, CBS correspondents Dan Rather, Lesley Stahl, and Bill Plante all chatted up Carter's performance. In the minority were Walter Cronkite and Bruce Morton, who were mildly impressed with Reagan, but only because he had not screwed up. Jack Germond and Jules Witcover agreed and wrote backhandedly that Reagan hadn't done “anything stupid.”12 The next morning on the Today show, anchor Tom Brokaw dwelt favorably on Carter's handling of the SALT II issue.13

  The Washington Post gave additional comfort to the elites the morning after as David Broder wrote in a story headlined “Carter on Points, but No KO” that Carter had kept Reagan on the defensive throughout. “In a confrontation where most of the time was spent on Carter's preferred issues—and not the economic record of the last four years, on which Reagan would have preferred to focus—the incumbent repeatedly managed to work in a partisan appeal to his fellow Democrats.”14

  The TV critic for the Post, Tom Shales, wrote, “As TV personality, Cart
er looked … basically unflappable. Reagan let himself be backed into corners by Carter punches to the face and body.”15

  In the Washington Star, the august Mary McGrory wrote, “Ronald Reagan showed the superficiality and insensitivity to such matters as the nuclear threat and race relations that makes people nervous about putting him in the Oval Office.”16

  Fred Barnes, a reporter for the Baltimore Sun, watched the debate and, like his peers in journalism, thought Carter had won. After the debate Barnes headed to Philadelphia to cover a campaign story, and while listening to Larry King's radio show during the drive he was astonished to find all the callers saying that Reagan had won.17

  The callers' response was no fluke. The New York Times had assembled a focus group made up of a cross-section of voters from the greater New York area, including many who before the debate had planned to vote for Carter or had been undecided. Not now. One pre-debate undecided voter, a woman from Connecticut, said Carter was “offensive and belligerent.” She was among those now leaning toward Reagan. Even some of those who said they planned on voting for Carter praised Reagan's performance and panned Carter's. A Rutgers professor from Brooklyn said of Reagan, “I had to hand it to him. He is very reassuring. He comes across so graceful. Without substance, though.” She complained bitterly about Carter's “self-righteousness, his hyperbole.” What's more, the group exploded in guffaws over Carter's assertion that he'd discuss nuclear policy with his daughter, Amy.18