March 4: Playing Second Fiddle

The press can tell you there are three ways to get into the public eye: be lucky, be important, or be a relative. Massachusetts has always struggled to gain peripheral attention for its primaries, while sister New Hampshire's contest stole the show. The Bay State is playing second fiddle again this year, benefitting only through association--the primary here is March 4, one week after the Granite State's. If you go by delegate counts, Massachusetts is more than five times more influential in awarding the presidential nomination than its northern neighbor. But who really cares about New Hampshire's 19 delegates anyway?

Massachusetts managed to appropriate its own share of the spotlight briefly in 1972 after years with a dogged Democratic reputation and not much visibility. The '72 primary gave Massachusetts a hefty ego boost--its majority vote for Sen. George McGovern, coming on the same day as his victory in Pennsylvania, clinched his nomination and extinguished Edmund Muskie's waning hopes. Of course, the Bay State went on to greater glory and better bumper-sticker copy ("Don't Blame Me, I'm From Massachusetts") as the only state to vote for McGovern over former President Richard M. Nixon in the general election that year.

But succeeding years have stripped away the silver-plated armor of Massachusetts voters, leaving only their tough Democratic nature exposed--and even that may be losing some of its sheen. In 1976, a cocky Jimmy Carter gathered a meager 14 per cent in a heavy snowstorm to finish behind Henry Jackson, George Wallace, and Mo Udall. Two years later, liberal Governor Michael S. Dukakis, who now teaches public policy at the Kennedy School of Government, lost in the gubernatorial primary to old-style Democrat Edward J. King. A Kennedy drubbing would deligh King, who beat liberal Republican Frank Hatch and took office last January. He has since become anathema to government officials who have a reputation to lose. King is actively campaigning for Carter, undoubtedly hoping for a mandate against Kennedy's policies to make things less pleasant for liberals in the state--especially Kennedy himself and freshman Sen. Paul Tsongas.

With a mere 20 per cent of the voters marking Republican ballots in '76, GOP candidates aren't likely to sink many hard-won dollars into a media blitz this year. If Bush wins (and with his well-oiled Massachusetts campaign machinery, he could capture 35 per cent of the vote), the victory will simply help him shift into higher gear and take in more contributions from his increasing number of college-educated, upper-income supporters. Others can write off the state beforehand and blame Bush's Andover and Yale backgroung for a strong New England showing.

Still, the bids for second and third place are potentially colorful, if the state's Independents, who form more than 40 per cent of its registered voters, paint the background. Under Massachusetts's unusual system, an Independents may pick either party's ballot when he casts his primary vote, and Independents may find the Republican race more exciting, especially if Kennedy does well in New Hampshire and looks like a shoo-in in his home state.

Although many Independents chose the conservative Wallace and Jackson in '76, especially in the Boston area, a growing contingent of college students and young adults registered as Independents may look toward John Anderson, the man-without-a-party liberal Republican. A third-place finish by Anderson is not necessarily just a gleam in his campaign manager's eye. After all, Ronald Reagan just doesn't care about the Massachusetts race, which is probably a good thing because Republicans who supported former President Ford in '76 wouldn't vote for the Californian anyway. And Sen. Howard Baker may all too easily yield third place--he has hired only four campaign staffers to work the entire state.

By and large, though, Independents are likely to weigh in on the Democratic ticket as they have in the past, and, as they have in the last 17 years of senate races, they are likely to vote for Kennedy--out of habit, if nothing else. Although Massachusetts voters probably won't be looking over their shoulders to New Hampshire (heavily blue collar and Catholic, despite liberals seeping across the line seeking lower taxes) to tell them how to vote, an especially poor showing by Kennedy there could prompt more active support in Massachusetts. But the Kennedy camp is wise to be wary of too much optimism--only two years ago Dukakis discovered the hard way that liberal supporters stay at home if they don't feel needed.

Kennedy not only has to win, he has to beat the percentages to leave New England with any self-respect, especially if Carter beats him by more than a 10-per-cent spread in New Hampshire. With Georgia and Florida only a week later, it will be almost impossible to soften the direct comparisons of Carter's and Kennedy's support on their own playing fields. But chief Kennedy pollster Gary R. Orren, former associate professor but the result of steady organizational work." Kennedy and Brown campus organizations began earlier than Carter's and have picked up support from previously uncommited anti-registration activists, he adds. "The Carter people have not stressed college students, this time or in 1976," Olivas concludes, "maybe after this they will change their tactics."

Olivas' professional counterparts are far less worried about reports of snowballing Kennedy momentum, and they minimize the effect of the senator's anti-Rose Garden barbs. "We have not witnessed any Kennedy charge since his speeches at Georgetown or Harvard. In fact, after the Georgetown speech, we got more volunteers just like Kennedy did, although he did get more," Flynn says.

Woodward believes the president's February 13 press conference, his only public response to the Kennedy charges, "had a positive effect on the voters. He (Carter) looked presidential in contrast to Senator Kennedy of late. Remember, Carter only said 'uh' once."

Carter's "presidential" performance included several exaggerated lunges at Kennedy. Questioned repeatedly about Kennedy's charges, Carter said his opponent had made statements "damaging to our country" and to the negotiations for the hostages in Tehran.

The media's interpretation of the Maine caucus results remains a touchy topic among the Carter troops. "We're sitting back and wondering how that could be a gain for Kennedy. How does that loss give him momentum?" asked Gallagher. Flynn jokes, "If we could take a string of 'losses' like that to the convention we would be in fine shape." These oversimplified responses ignore reality: Kennedy's dramatic personal appearances have revived his campaign after the Iowa disaster, while Carter has kept a grim vigil in the Oval Office.

Kennedy has also made gains by attacking the administration's performance on domestic issues. Without Carter on the stump--justifying and explaining why the inflation he has promised to bring down since 1976 continues to rise--staffers have had to rely on White House representatives and a deft combination of sidestepping and counter-punching. "We can only point out what they (the administration) are doing about inflation and energy and that they are long term problems. We also point out that the programs Senator Kennedy has proposed are unrealistic and actually fuel inflation," says Woodward. More specifically, the Carter people try to emphasize recent executive accomplishments, such as civil service reform and the creation of the Department of Education, while reminding voters that Carter has so far fulfilled his vow to supply the Northeast with home heating oil for the winter.

Despite their gallant stabs at cheerfulness, Carter's campaign directors in Massachusetts and New Hampshire realize that President Carter's absence has only added to the problems of preparing for the upcoming primaries. The incumbent president dropping by attracts large crowds and television cameras. Chip and Jack Carter do not. The excitement generated by a president not only makes headlines, but it also inspires staffers and volunteers to ring that final doorbell before the polls open. Recalling long hours of work over the past month, Olivas says, "The enthusiasm of having the president here certainly would have helped us. It gets pretty cold walking the streets of New Hampshire all alone.