But last Friday night Kemp got The Call in an airport holding room in Dallas. Dole was on the line, asking if Kemp would be his running mate.
It was the dramatic conclusion of a mating dance that had begun in earnest only two nights before, when Kemp was secret- ly hustled into a Watergate apartment through tunnels and back stairs. The meeting had been brokered by Scott Reed, who had once worked for Kemp and serves as Dole’s campaign manager. Kemp and Dole warily assessed each other. Dole said that any team has one leader and one supporting player, and that whoever he chose would have to know which was which. Kemp praised Dole’s new tax plan, but then launched into a frank discussion of their differing views on affirmative action and immigration. The next night, after wavering during the day over concerns about his family, Kemp told Reed that he’d take the job – if Dole himself offered it.
The deal remained shaky until the very end. Before Dole could make the final call, there was a major problem to be dealt with, NEWSWEEK has learned. His name was Pat Robertson, chairman of the Christian Coalition. There’s a river of bad blood between Kemp and Robertson, who both ran in 1988 for the GOP nomination that George Bush eventually won. The Kemp and Robertson forces fought bitterly, and Robertson’s allies had even raised questions about Kemp’s personal life. Robertson and his top lieutenant, Ralph Reed, had been assured two weeks ago that Kemp was not on the list. So Dole, sources tell NEWSWEEK, didn’t pick up the phone to call Kemp in Dallas until a flurry of pacifying calls were made to Christian Coalition leaders.
The Dole camp itself was divided over the pick until the last minute. Kemp was not the choice of the campaign’s professional consultants, nor of an older generation of Dole loyalists. The consultants argued that geography was more important than glamour. ““Do no harm, win a state,’’ advised one. Some Dole aides privately believe supply-side economics are pass. ““It’s not Dole, it’s not new and we’re not in a recession,’’ said a consultant.
Meanwhile, old Dole hands like Washington lobbyists Tom Korologos and Robert Lighthizer distrusted Kemp as a shameless self-promoter. ““Kemp is always a Kemp guy,’’ said one. Privately, they told each other that the Kempians were secretly dismissing Dole as a lost cause, and merely using the campaign as a launching pad for Kemp in 2000.
On the other side – the winning side – was a tight circle of young aides who’d formerly worked for Kemp, and who were now championing their old boss. They included Scott Reed, communications director John Buckley, issues adviser Kevin Stach and Washington operative Roger Stone. All are veterans of Kemp’s 1988 presidential campaign. They ridiculed the veep-selection process the ““old guys’’ had managed. It had produced three underwhelming finalists: Sen. Connie Mack of Florida, Gov. John Engler of Michigan and former South Carolina governor Carroll Campbell. ““Dole had said he wanted a “10,’ and not one of those guys was close,’’ said a Kemp loyalist in the Dole entourage. Who better to sell Dole’s new tax-cut proposals than Kemp?
In Congress it’s called ““final passage,’’ the last confirming vote. Now, with this surprising gamble, Bob Dole has begun his own final passage, the culmination of a career in politics that began nearly a half century ago on the back roads of western Kansas. Last week he was managing his fate in a style he employed for 35 years on Capitol Hill. He kept his own counsel, relished surprise and operated with a ruthless objectivity that allowed him to override personal animosities – his own and others’ – for the sake of the deal. Languishing in the polls, facing deep Republican doubts about his chances and his will to win, Dole electrified the GOP tribes in San Diego by naming a man he doesn’t like and with whom he has often disagreed – but who seemed the best choice available once Colin Powell made clear he would not run. True, Kemp is no down-the-line conservative. He supports affirmative action; he opposes a balanced-budget amendment and strict immigration controls. But he has a Reaganesque glow, a hopeful message and the energy required to give Dole a second wind.
With the Kemp choice, Dole showed he has a sense of history – his own and his party’s. At 73, in his fourth race for national office, Dole returned to his hometown of Russell, Kans., to introduce Kemp to the folks. A flag-draped stage was erected on the same spot where Dole, in a tearful ceremony in 1976, accepted President Gerald Ford’s invitation to be the GOP’s vice presidential candidate. This time there were no tears. Beaming like a proud papa, he introduced the former football star and congressman to a cheering Main Street crowd. ““This is day one of a great team effort,’’ said Dole.
Dole’s strategy is now clear. First unite and excite the base. Then begin reaching out for the fall. Earlier in the week, Dole had allowed his convention handlers to accept the most conservative GOP platform since Barry Goldwater’s in 1964. In so doing, he won the silence, or at least the lowered voices, of the Family Buchanan and its acolytes. Dole didn’t seem to care about the protests of pro-choice Republicans, whom he hopes to reach on economic grounds. Having pacified the GOP’s ““culture wing,’’ Dole hopes now to take flight with the help of the growth wing Kemp personifies. Kemp himself is no cultural warrior – the Christian right views him with some suspicion – but for that very reason he may be able to help Dole win over undecided mainstream voters.
Though silver-haired at 61, Kemp is avatar to the generation of the GOP, reared in the Reagan years on themes of tax cuts and social renewal. Even his foes concede that he really wants to bring minorities into a new ““Party of Lincoln.’’ The taciturn Dole chose a man known for inspirational rhetoric. The contrast was clear in Russell. As host, Dole gave a plain recitation of his campaign agenda – a 15 percent tax cut, an ““end to the IRS as we know it,’’ a promise of veto-wielding parsimony in the Oval Office. Kemp then stepped forth to provide cosmic context. Lower taxes and smaller government, he declared, will soon yield ““unimagined prosperity in our children’s future’’ by releasing ““the great potential of human freedom.''
But those who know Kemp well understand that there is a downside to his passion. The cognoscenti in San Diego were grumbling. Kemp is not known for his discipline. His eloquence veers into mere verbosity. ““We now have a man who can’t craft a sentence running with a man who can’t finish one,’’ said American Spectator editor R. Emmett Tyrrell with a chuckle. Among professionals – including those running the Dole campaign – Kemp is known to be a bad campaigner, easily distracted and unwilling to take advice. And though he is a model family man, he’s had to deal with his share of unsubstantiated, published rumors that there was once a wild side to his private life. ““Kemp’s great in the short term,’’ said a top GOP official. ““Beyond that, who knows?''
For now, Dole will take whatever ““short term’’ unity and excitement he can get. There will be some. In one media survey taken before he was tapped, Kemp was already the delegates’ favorite for the GOP nominee in the year. In the NEWSWEEK Poll, the only choice who would have provided massive help was Colin Powell. Nearly half the electorate – 45 percent – said they would have been more likely to support Dole if Powell had been the running mate. But Kemp was next, with 27 percent.
But the NEWSWEEK Poll also illuminates the tough road ahead. As the convention started, Dole was farther behind President Clinton than ever: 20 points (53 percent to 33 percent), with the third-party option at 7 percent. His tax plan has been greeted with rude skepticism: 70 percent said he’d proposed it only to win votes – not because he thinks it helps the economy. In fact, Americans say they’re more worried about the deficit (51 percent) than cutting taxes (33 percent).
While Clinton headed for vacation in Wyoming, his spin doctors descended on San Diego. Democrats immediately began distributing toy footballs printed with the words HAIL MARY PASS. Well aware of polls on the deficit issue – and the generally favorable economic news this year – Clinton’s crew got busy touting the president as a paragon of fiscal stability, and Dole and Kemp as ““radical’’ tax cutters. The Demo- crats rushed into print long lists of the issues on which Dole and Kemp have disagreed over the years. And they tried to undercut Kemp’s reputation for tolerance, noting that his views on abortion, gun control and gay rights are generally in tune with the ““culture war’’ right. ““He’s a good man with extremist views,’’ declared Sen. Chris Dodd, the Democratic Party chairman.
However Kemp affects the horse race, or the GOP, his selection is important for another reason. It speaks volumes about the decision-making methods of the man who chose him. Since surprising the world by leaving the Senate last June, Dole has shown a boldness – or a sense of urgent desperation – that few expected to see in a man his age. ““He’s thinking big,’’ said GOP polltaker Kelly Anne Fitzpatrick. ““First on the Senate, then the tax plan, now with Kemp.''
But typically, Dole waited until the last minute to decide he had to think that way. In his phone call to Kemp, Dole tried to make the choice sound like a long-held, deep-secret plan. ““You’ve been on my radar screen for 45 days,’’ said Dole, a comment quickly cycled to the press. But if that’s true, Dole had mentioned it to no one. ““Let me tell you, if this thing was in his pocket,’’ said GOP Chairman Haley Barbour, ““the pocket was zipped shut.''
Dole’s operations manual is simple and severe: keep your distance and keep your options open until moving at the last minute. The method worked in Congress. In a campaign it’s been exciting – and hair-raising. In the Oval Office, it could be worse. ““There’s no strategy in this campaign,’’ complained a Dole insider. ““We’re doing everything week to week.''
The first solid indication that Dole was serious about Kemp, NEWSWEEK has learned, came on July 23 – ironically, his 73d birthday. On that day, sources say, Dole called Trent Lott, the Mississippian who replaced him as Senate majority leader. Dole wanted to know about Kemp. Lott had served in the House with him, and was part of a coterie of Young Turks who formed the Conservative Opportunity Society in the ’80s. As usual, Dole sounded blas, asked guarded questions and hid his reactions. ““He was beginning to ask: “What about the quarterback?’ ’’ said a top GOP staffer. ““But he asked in a way that left you doubting whether he was serious.''
Dole had delegated his veep search to Bob Ellsworth, a friend from Kansas and the Nixon-Ford ’70s. In retrospect, it seems clear that this was busywork: Dole handled the ““heavy lifting ’’ himself. In any case, he was unhappy with the list that the Ellsworth team produced. Two weeks ago he began to seriously consider Bill Bennett. Dole and the conservative thinker had traveled to the Midwest and to Hollywood together, and Dole liked the idea that Bennett was well known, a major player, an articulate fellow. He asked Scott Reed to see if Bennett wanted to be seriously considered. ““We got to third base with Bennett,’’ said a Dole aide. But not to home. Bennett eventually gave his answer. He preferred his privacy and didn’t want the job.
A few days later, Dole unveiled a Reagan-style tax cut as the centerpiece of his campaign. The Democrats derided it, the public so far hasn’t bought into it, but the reaction inside the GOP was good. Dole was pleased. If supply side was still selling, why not enlist its first master salesman? Bennett had whetted his appetite for a star. ““Kemp isn’t about geography or ideology,’’ says GOP polltaker Frank Luntz. ““Kemp is all about charisma.’’ By early last week, outside advisers were making the same case to the Dole camp. On Wednesday morning, conservative journalist Bill Kristol made a telling point on a TV show: that candidates who pick obscure running mates tend to lose. Campaign manager Reed was on the phone to Kristol soon thereafter. ““Interesting,’’ Reed said, and began to discuss Kemp as a possibility. ““Oh, it’s hopeless,’’ said Kristol. ““Unlikely, but not hopeless,’’ Reed replied. Hours later, Dole and Kemp met at the Watergate – not at Dole’s place, but in a 15th-floor suite reserved for the occasion.
But in typical Dole fashion, his penchant for secrecy and last-minute maneuver left him with little choice – which is perhaps precisely where he wanted to be. His supporters inside the campaign are assuming that all the ““vetting’’ over the years – he ran in 1988 and was housing secretary in the Bush administration – are sufficient. There was only a hurried, cursory ““sweep’’ in the days before Dole’s self-imposed deadline for announcing his choice. ““There’s some concern here,’’ said a top GOP power broker in San Diego. ““But what could they do? It was him or a nobody.''
By last Friday morning, the deal was about done. Back home in Kansas, Dole was in Abilene, paying homage to one of his heroes, Dwight Eisenhower. Meanwhile, inside the Eisenhower Chapel, Dole’s aides were calling Kemp to make the deal official: yes, Dole indeed wanted him. Kemp, advisers told NEWSWEEK, continued to have some questions about staff, his role and his freedom to speak. But he was on board.
Kemp was told to stick to his plans, which called for him to make a two-day speaking trip to Orlando, Fla., and Dallas. But by the time he got to Orlando, word was out. Columnist Robert Novak, a longtime friend of Kemp’s, confirmed the story on CNN. On Kemp’s flight from Orlando to Dallas, a suddenly large and eager flock of reporters watched his every move from the seats they’d hurriedly purchased. He made phone calls. He watched the movie ““Sgt. Bilko.’’ He made jokes about football. Suddenly, almost unbelievably, he was back in the game in a way he hadn’t dared imagine in Aspen just three weeks ago. We’ll soon see if Dole was wise to call him him off the bench.
