Political Fight : Cranston: A Man of Many Sides

Nine people sat in a room recently and listened to Sen. Alan Cranston practice a speech. One of those present, a debate coach, told the group how Richard Burton often practiced diction with a pencil clamped between his teeth to prevent the words from tumbling out too swiftly.

Cranston stooped toward his papers and stood up with a pencil in his mouth. He tried to speak, and his friends began to laugh. A man who rarely looks silly suddenly looked very silly. The senator laughed too, but then cut off the fun and returned to his speech.

There isn’t much fun these days for Alan Cranston, the liberal Democrat who has served California in the Senate since 1969. Facing what promises to be a tough reelection bid in 1986, Cranston has put himself on a grueling schedule to shut down speculation that he is in trouble.

Numerous Meetings

In addition to trying to improve his Senate attendance record, Cranston is holding numerous meetings with Democratic officials and supporters in California, presiding over a series of “community forums” designed to show that he is in touch with the voters and spending hours on the telephone asking for campaign contributions.

Cranston is also shifting positions on certain issues to fit the mood of an increasingly conservative electorate--sometimes to the dismay of longtime supporters.

Speculation that Cranston is in trouble centers on the following:

- Because they believe his liberalism is now out of favor in California, the Republicans expect to make Cranston the No. 1 target nationally as they try to keep their Senate majority in 1986.

- Although Democrats outnumber Republicans by 3 to 2 in California, exit polls have found in recent years that Republicans rarely voted Democratic, while Democrats often voted Republican.

- So many new Republican voters have registered in Orange and San Diego counties that Democrats say they no longer can count on their strength in Los Angeles and the San Francisco Bay Area to offset their dismal prospects in the southernmost counties.

Deadliest Word

When the race heats up and he is suddenly in the spotlight, Cranston may have to deal with the deadliest word in politics: “negatives.”

“You find negatives when you take a favorable rating of the candidate,” explains I. A. Lewis, director of the Los Angeles Times Poll. “Generally, the negatives of an incumbent--how un favorably he is viewed--should be no higher than 30%. A guy who has been around awhile naturally builds up some negatives. If they are really high it becomes very hard to conduct a campaign.”

A political consultant put it more simply: “The voters get down on you.”

It is a feeling that is hard to turn around, as former Gov. Edmund G. Brown Jr. learned when he ran for an open Senate seat in 1982. Nothing Brown could do--no amount of television advertising or relentless campaigning--could turn around his negatives. Republican Pete Wilson easily defeated Brown despite running a lackluster campaign.

Although few believe Cranston’s negatives will be as high as Brown’s, a Republican poll taken in California last year found that Cranston’s negatives had increased substantially, according to President Reagan’s chief consultant, Stuart K. Spencer of Newport Beach.

The senator’s own poll, taken last year, also found that his negatives had gone up, according to a Cranston adviser.

Cranston’s aides think this was inevitable because the senator has been around so long, but Mervin Field, director of the California Poll, traces the senator’s problems to his quest for the Democratic presidential nomination in 1984.

‘Perceived as Weak’

“Cranston started running early and got a lot of TV play,” Field said. “The California public got to know him for the first time. Two things subtracted from his image, in my opinion: The public never knew what to make of the nuclear freeze, the issue he stressed in his campaign, and secondly, he was on the tube more and people saw that he looked elderly and cadaverous even though, at 70, he is quite healthy.

“Suddenly he was perceived as weak by the political movers and shakers, and these people can affect a campaign. They have access to money and can encourage good primary and general election opponents.”

But even Cranston’s detractors hedge when asked if the senator has finally run out of luck. Ask them why they hedge and they talk about the things that got Cranston where he is today.

No, they say, Cranston is not charismatic. No, he does not introduce much major legislation. But, they say, echoing statements by Cranston’s friends, there are those other things about Alan Cranston.

‘Relentless’

More than one person has thought he had Alan Cranston’s attention only to see the senator fish around in one of his pockets for a note card and then write down something that had nothing to do with the conversation.

The notes Cranston is constantly scribbling are often transferred to his “lists”--stacks of long yellow pads on which the senator scrawls such things as the names of people to call, favors to ask or return, rumors to check out. They will probably never wind up in the Smithsonian, but the lists are one reason Cranston has been so successful as a politician.

“Alan Cranston always follows through,” said Mickey Kantor, a Los Angeles lawyer who ran Cranston’s 1974 campaign. “He’s the best staff person ever elected to the Senate, and that’s not meant as a pejorative.”

A former Senate aide was wondering once what made Cranston so successful. It wasn’t brilliance. What was it? He found out one day in 1978 when Cranston helped lead the fight to ratify the Panama Canal treaty:

Next Day’s Files

“When the vote was over, I walked with Alan back down to the office,” the aide recalled. “It was very late and a lot of us were trying to get out of there and go celebrate. Alan told me to call the tape (a recording that gives the Senate agenda for the next day). I told him what it said, and he put his briefcase between his feet and took out the files on the canal. Then he went over to a cabinet and put them away, got the files he needed for the next day and stuck them in the briefcase.”

Cranston is never more than a few feet from the briefcase, a huge black satchel that the senator crams with lists, files, books, telephone numbers and a pair of homemade booties that he wears on airplanes. Cranston is so afraid of being separated from the black satchel that he will rarely allow anyone else to carry it.

After years of watching Cranston roam the halls of the Senate, gauging support for legislation and negotiating compromises, congressional scholar Norman J. Ornstein sums him up this way: “He’s relentless.”

“Alan’s secret weapon is that he will outwork anyone--and I mean anyone,” said William Wardlaw, who ran the senator’s 1980 campaign. “People talk about how old he looks but while they’re talking, he’s traveling up and down the state making his phone calls.”

The Phone

A California political consultant likes to tell a joke about a plane that goes down with many Democratic officials and contributors on board. To their surprise, the passengers all go to heaven, where they are given rooms in a luxurious hotel. But just as they are settling down for a nap, every telephone in the place begins to ring. The guests answer and a voice says, “Please hold for Alan Cranston.”

Political observers say that few politicians use the telephone as effectively as Cranston.

“Cranston is the man with the pocketful of dimes,” says Los Angeles City Councilman John Ferraro. “He’s always on the phone.”

Cranston acknowledges that he usually wants something--money or help--when he makes his calls. But often he just wants to chat about what is going on.

Calls Various Groups

He not only calls Democrats in the Legislature and the Congress, he phones the leaders of various Democratic interest groups, from labor leaders and feminists to nuclear freeze activists.

“For many of these people, getting a call from a U.S. senator is special, it creates a lot of good will,” said Michael Gordon, former executive director of the California Democratic Party.

During a recent swing through California, Cranston carried around a long list of county supervisors who are Democrats. The phone calls went like this: “Hi, it’s Alan Cranston. I hope I have your support for 1986.” He charted the progress of his calls with color-coded check marks and plus signs.

Not every recipient of Cranston’s calls is excited to hear his voice on the line.

“Yeah, Cranston calls me once in a while, but there never seems to be a reason,” said former Gov. Edmund G. Brown Jr. “I can’t do that. I can’t call people unless I have something specific to talk about.”

Atty. Gen. John Van de Kamp says he too is amazed at how much Cranston uses the phone. Cranston often makes a preliminary call before phoning back to ask for what he really wants. “That kind of telephoning is pretty transparent,” Van de Kamp said.

Cranston made so many calls to longtime supporters during the presidential race that he wore out his welcome with some of them. In an effort to smooth feathers, Joy Jacobson, the senator’s chief fund-raiser, recently organized dinner parties in Los Angeles and San Diego for longtime Cranston givers and friends.

“Sometimes when Alan calls and asks for money they say, ‘Sure, I’ll send you a check,’ ” Jacobson said. “But then when I talk to them they complain, ‘The only time I hear from Alan is when he wants money.’ ”

Cranston isn’t fazed by such criticism. For though many politicians hate asking for money, he says he doesn’t mind it at all. It’s just another of his survival techniques.

‘Raising Dough’

Over the years Cranston has raised millions of dollars--mostly for his own campaigns, but also for those of other Democratic senators. Cranston’s technique is to raise a lot of money early to “scare off my opponents.” In the 1980 campaign, he had raised $1 million before any Republicans announced that they would like to take him on.

Cranston often spends entire afternoons sitting between two assistants who arrange the phone calls so that he will have one contributor to talk to and another on hold.

The senator calls it “raising dough.” He said in an interview that he doesn’t spend much time talking to people who can’t kick in $1,000, the maximum an individual may give to federal candidates in the primary and the general election.

“Some people are able to give the maximum amount, they’re accustomed to it,” Cranston said. “But people who can only afford $100 may have to think twice about it. It’s not worth my time to raise it in $100 amounts. I have to concentrate on the people who can max out.”

Mail Firm Hired

To go after the small donors, Jacobson recently hired A. B. Data, a direct mail firm in Milwaukee. Jacobson said she chose the firm because it was willing to tailor its solicitations to different constituencies. She said there was another reason too, one that shows how Cranston tries to cover all the bases.

“A .B. Data has the best list of Jewish givers in the country,” Jacobson said. “More than most groups, Jews have learned the connection between contributing and realizing your legislative goals. Now that we have hired A. B. Data, no opponent of Alan’s can get those lists.”

Jacobson said she had two possible opponents in mind: San Francisco Mayor Dianne Feinstein, who has hinted that she may challenge Cranston in the Democratic primary, and Rep. Bobbi Fiedler of Northridge, who has indicated that she may run for the Republican senatorial nomination in 1986. Both are Jewish and could be expected to turn to the Jewish community for financial support.

According to Jacobson, Jewish contributors are so important to Cranston that he lists them in a separate category even though their affiliations and interests qualify them for other categories.

‘Sued by Hitler’

The affection many Jews have for Cranston goes way back, according to Hal Kwalwasser, a lawyer who helps Democratic politicians make connections in the Los Angeles Jewish Community.

“Alan Cranston was sued by Adolf Hitler,” Kwalwasser said, “and he never fails to remind Jewish groups of this.” (Hitler published a sanitized version of “Mein Kampf” in America in the 1930s. Cranston, who had been to Europe as a journalist, published his own version in tabloid form that drew attention to Hitler’s most diabolical plans. Hitler sued for copyright infringement and shut down Cranston’s tabloid.)

More recently, Cranston has been a staunch supporter of Israel and is a member of “the lost cause”--an unsuccessful effort by some senators to block the sale of AWACS surveillance planes to Saudi Arabia in 1981.

Jacobson also said Cranston’s fund raising is enhanced by his service on the Banking, Housing and Urban Affairs Committee, a panel that deals with regulations and arcane tax code clauses that are of major interest to bankers and developers.

She said that by the end of February she will have raised $500,000 toward the $6 million Cranston thinks he must have for 1986. She said she also will have reduced Cranston’s $1-million presidential debt to less than $500,000.

Recently, Jacobson has tried to improve Cranston’s fund-raising contacts in the high tech community. The senator spoke at a luncheon in Irvine for electronics executives, who were told how Cranston had helped reduce the capital gains tax and how he wants to lower U.S. barriers on high tech exports.

As soon as the luncheon was over, the guest list went into a Cranston file entitled “Prospects.”

Taking Care of Business

As in his previous campaigns, Cranston is trying to put together endorsements by prominent Republican businessmen in an effort to scare off serious Republican opponents in 1986.

So far he has commitments from Howard Allen, chief executive officer of Southern California Edison, and Sanford Sigoloff, chairman and chief executive officer of Wickes Inc.

“I am a conservative Republican,” Sigoloff said in an interview. “I supported President Reagan. But I told Alan Cranston I will do whatever he needs me to do in 1986. He’s level-headed, and you need that on both sides of the aisle.”

How does Cranston get such testimonials? It’s quite simple, according to Jon Fleming, Cranston’s chief aide on tax matters.

“Business people are always coming to Alan about one thing or another,” Fleming said. “If you are a California senator you just come to expect it, because the state is so huge and has such a diversified economy. My friends on the (Senate) Finance Committee laugh when they see us coming. They say, ‘What kind of whoring job are you guys working on now?’ ”

In 1981, Southern California Edison and other utilities decided that they could improve their cash flow if they changed the way they depreciate their assets. That required a change in the tax code, and Cranston got it for them.

That left Howard Allen of Edison indebted to Cranston, whose positions on many issues are much more liberal than Allen’s.

Sided With Producers

“Oh God, I will probably be drummed out of the California Club for saying this,” Allen said, referring to the Los Angeles club dominated by lawyers and businessmen. “But if business people will work with Cranston he can be very helpful when you convince him that your case has merit.”

Two years ago, the major television networks wanted the Federal Communication Commission to give them more control over the syndication of reruns. But Hollywood producers who make the shows argued that the change, which required Senate approval, would be at their expense.

Cranston was on the producers’ side. He quietly called a few key senators and discovered the producers had enough votes to avoid a compromise that would have increased the networks’ clout.

“You can say that we lost because Cranston started making his calls,” said a network lobbyist who asked not to be named.

Many of the producers have written checks for Cranston’s previous campaigns and will be among the major contributors in 1986, according to Jacobson.

One Cranston aide recalled how Cranston helped a California steamship company save more than $700,000 on its taxes by sponsoring an obscure change in the tax code.

“After we did that,” the aide said, “we found that the company, which was owned by Republicans, had never contributed to Alan’s campaigns. They gave us a list of people to call for contributions. It turned out to be a very good list.”

But Cranston may have trouble putting together a list of business supporters for 1986. One reason is the higher unfavorable rating he got in polls taken after he ran for President.

“The business community will desert Cranston in a minute if he looks like a loser,” said Spencer, the Republican political consultant.

Cranston has also benefited in business circles from comparisons with the other senators California was sending to Washington. Sens. George Murphy and S. I. Hayakawa, both Republicans, were seen as ineffective. Democrat John V. Tunney was viewed as being preoccupied with foreign affairs. None of them was around long enough to have Cranston’s Senate connections.

But Cranston has more competition for the business limelight these days. Republican Sen. Wilson, elected in 1982, is trying to be as responsive to business as Cranston has been.

Still, Cranston always has his eye out for an angle, and he found one recently when he held forums around the state to discuss taxes and spending.

Virtually every businessman he talked to said the most important thing to them was predictability. At the end of the trip, Cranston turned to Fleming and told him to figure out a way to bring that up in the Senate.

The ‘Weasel’

Anyone who follows Cranston these days may wonder if this is the same Alan Cranston who sought the Democratic presidential nomination last year.

In the presidential race, Cranston was perceived as so liberal that he became a fringe candidate. But as he approaches 1986, his eyes are firmly focused on the mainstream.

Once very critical of President Reagan, Cranston was recently on the front row for Reagan’s inaugural speech, which he termed “inspirational.” And the senator rarely passes up a chance to say how eager he is to work with Reagan in his second term.

Once the leading advocate of a nuclear freeze, Cranston now says he will support research for the so-called “Star Wars” space defense system, an appalling notion to Cranston’s friends in the freeze movement.

Only a year ago Cranston was touting his record on the environment to liberal Democrats. Now he is not so sure where the public stands on some environmental issues and refuses to take a public stand in one of the hottest controversies in California--the proposed drilling for oil in Pacific Palisades.

During a recent appearance on KABC talk radio in Los Angeles, Cranston said the Palisades matter was a local issue and he did not want to get involved, leading an admirer of the senator’s environmental record to call the radio show and assail him.

But Cranston did get involved in the issue, as he later explained to a reporter. “I called the mayor (Tom Bradley of Los Angeles) and told him Armand was going to call him,” Cranston said, referring to Armand Hammer, chairman of Occidental Petroleum Corp., which wants to do the drilling.

“But I told Tom I was taking no position on the matter,” Cranston said, making a distinction that may require some explaining to the senator’s environmental supporters.

Cranston said Hammer asked him to call Bradley and he agreed because Hammer has been a longtime friend.

One of the ways Cranston has helped prolong his political career is by being very cautious. Sometimes this frustrates his more activist staff, according to Fleming, Cranston’s adviser for tax issues.

“We often want to state things in absolutes, but Alan always wants us to write in a weasel,” Fleming said. He explained that a ‘weasel’ is a hedging phrase that allows a politician to later change his mind if the political winds shift.

“Alan’s right of course,” Fleming said. “You never know how things are going to change.”

His Looks

Cranston likes to talk about how effective he is. But some of his advisers talk about something else as they prepare for the 1986 election--Cranston’s looks.

Although the senator runs in track meets and keeps up a grinding work schedule, he looks old--older than President Reagan, who is three years his senior.

Darry Sragow, a 38-year-old lawyer hired to manage the 1986 campaign, indicated that the one person Californians will not see in Cranston’s television ads is the senator himself.

And Cranston says he would like to name his 33-year-old son, Kim, as his campaign chairman. Why? “It helps give us a youthful image.”

In the presidential race, some of Cranston’s aides wanted to banish his wife, Norma, from campaign appearances because they thought she accentuated Cranston’s elderly looks. It is an idea that may come up again.

Norma Cranston, a bright and charming woman who is Cranston’s second wife, is five years younger than the senator. But she has Parkinson’s disease, which causes her to totter as she walks.

The senator would have no part of attempts to ban Norma Cranston in the presidential race, and he is not likely be more receptive to the idea in this campaign.

Recently, Cranston was presiding over one of his community forums. He smiled and gave a little wave toward a corner of the room. It was Norma. She wore a campaign button. It said, “Alan Cranston is MY senator.”