In Iowa, political rivals aren’t enemies

Before Gordon and Monica Fischer publicly announced their endorsement of Illinois Sen. Barack Obama, the couple went through a peculiar Iowa ritual: the apology call.

It’s the Dear John letter of presidential politics -- by phone.

“At times you hope they don’t pick up,” said Gordon R. Fischer, a lawyer and power broker in Iowa Democratic politics. “It’s hard.”

Politics are so local and Iowans so polite that before announcing who gets their support, they call friends and associates with other campaigns.

Monica Fischer described how a conversation might start: “It was a tough decision. We have a lot of respect for -- insert candidate -- but we really felt this year that Barack Obama was the person we most wanted to get behind.”

It typically ends, she said, on an upbeat, forward-looking note: “We really look forward to working with you after the caucus.”

In other words, can we still be friends?

She was nervous calling Tom Vilsack, for whom she worked when he was governor of Iowa. Vilsack had asked the Fischers to join the campaign of Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton (D-N.Y.), and Monica Fischer didn’t like to disappoint him.

“He was very understanding and, I guess, kind of let me off the hook,” she said.

Vilsack, for his part, said he appreciated the courtesy.

“It’s not easy for people to make that call to me,” he said. “It’s a sign of character.”

The apology call is just one example of Iowa polite. In this largely rural state, politics remains a civil affair, practiced with tact and geniality by voters and local politicians alike. The pundits and talk jocks, too, operate on a muted dial. At the golden-domed state Capitol, damning by faint praise is as ugly as it gets. There is no salty language on the state Senate floor and there are no “screamers” on the Hill.

Although Iowans ask tough questions during political events, candidates are rarely heckled or met with hostility.

“We just don’t like rudeness,” said Roxanne Conlin, the Iowa co-chairwoman of the presidential campaign of former Sen. John Edwards (D-N.C.).

Even by Midwestern standards, Iowans are polite, sometimes to a fault.

Honking is definitely impolite, and getting through an Iowa intersection can be a gridlock ordeal of smiling and waving: No -- really -- after you.

“Iowa polite is a real thing,” said Lynn Heuss, a Democratic activist who supports Edwards. “Politicians here are less likely to go for the jugular. Even Jan Mickelson” -- Iowa’s leading talk-radio host -- doesn’t get personal, she said.

Whereas the national political landscape can be a treacherous field of personal attacks and whisper campaigns, Iowans seem to have taken to heart Emily Post’s admonition that “manner is personality -- the outward manifestation of one’s innate character and attitude toward life.”

Or, as Heuss said: “Manners are about authenticity. People want someone who’s the real deal.”

Even former New York Mayor Rudolph W. Giuliani, who took off his kid gloves long ago, did it the Iowa way when he turned a presidential campaign faux pas into a positive story about his social graces.

Earlier this year, the Republican’s staff asked the owners of a family farm in the eastern Iowa town of Olin if they would host a campaign event.

Deborah and Jerry VonSprecken agreed.

However, days later, staffers called back to ask the VonSpreckens the value of their farm. Giuliani would not be coming after all, the VonSpreckens were told, because the candidate wanted to be able to criticize the federal estate tax, and their farm was not worth enough to make that point. The VonSpreckens, who had already cleaned and decorated their farm in anticipation of the GOP guests, felt slighted.

“I’m in a state of shock, very hurt and embarrassed,” Deborah VonSprecken told the local paper, the Anamosa Journal-Eureka.

Before long, the story had gone national. In the end, Giuliani went to the farm -- to apologize. The personal visit showed his good manners, clinching Deborah VonSprecken’s support for him, she said. “That was awesome, to take responsibility like that,” she said.

Historically, the state has offered lessons in civility.

Last year, Republican Rep. Jim Leach told state GOP strategists to stop sending out negative mailers about his Democratic challenger, Dave Loebsack; Leach followed up with an apology to Loebsack. For his part, Loebsack, who won the contest, took out television ads telling voters that Leach was a “good man.”

During the 2004 Democratic presidential nominating caucuses, Iowa voters picked Massachusetts Sen. John F. Kerry -- in part because they had become so disgusted with the mudslinging between then-Missouri Rep. Richard A. Gephardt and former Vermont Gov. Howard Dean, according to several political observers.

“Certainly, the negativity toward the end of the ’04 caucus created a significant shift in the final three weeks, and Kerry and Edwards were the main beneficiaries,” said Jeff Link, a Democratic strategist.

This year, the Edwards and Obama campaigns have tried to underscore how they differ from Clinton on foreign policy -- notably Iraq and Iran -- but without turning the campaign into personal attacks.

“Everyone paid close attention to what happened in ‘04, and are careful not to make the same mistakes now,” Link said.

Candidates need to watch not only their own manners but their staff’s too.

Iowans still remember Dean’s “storm troopers,” the volunteers of the 2004 campaign in orange hats who offended locals by being pushy and presumptuous at times, said David Yepsen, a longtime political writer for the Des Moines Register.

It’s hard to quantify how much any boorishness worsened Dean’s loss in the Iowa caucuses. But all the campaigns have been particularly mindful of Iowa manners after that, Yepsen observed.

“The way you work Iowa is to get out and meet people, so manners matter more,” said Dianne Bystrom, a professor of political science at Iowa State University. “If you’re not talking their language or wearing their clothes, it can backfire.”

At the Clinton Iowa headquarters near the Capitol, campaign director Teresa Vilmain runs a tight ship. Before anyone starts on the campaign, Vilmain, an Iowa native, gives them instructions on how to behave and look.

Since Iowans in general dress casually, jeans are OK, she said. “But the jeans have to be respectful.” In other words, nothing torn or shredded. “We teach them, ‘Clean your car; careful how you dress.’ This is serious business, so [they] should reflect that.”

After all, seemingly small transgressions like not respecting rules about when and where political signs can be put up can turn a neighborhood against a candidate.

Not unlike the round of calls Gordon and Monica Fischer made in alerting their friends and associates of their endorsement plans, Link recently did his own round of apology calls. The news he delivered to personal and political friends: He would be endorsing Edwards. A gesture of politesse, yes, but it was also an act of self-preservation.

“Once the circus leaves town in January,” he said, “we all still live here.”

louise.roug@latimes.com