Lavishly Courted Voters to Decide : Iowa’s Epic Campaign Finally Nears the End

Finally.

Those who guessed it would never end guessed wrong. The epic campaign for Iowa concludes Monday, and the most sought-after and lavishly courted voters in the history of the Republic get their say in the race for President.

Stand back and sing it out again: Finally.

Candidate-for-candidate, voter-to-voter, there has been nothing like it.

Democratic Rep. Richard A. Gephardt of Missouri has been working the state intently since April, 1985. Republican Vice President George Bush began grooming his organization way back in 1980.

Six other major Democrats and five more leading Republicans make up the presidential baker’s dozen. And all but two are aching for something from Monday night’s caucus voting. Maybe it’s to be lifted into the ranks of the contenders. Or, a good bounce into the New Hampshire primary the following week.

Beating the other guy is only one way to win. The other is to beat expectations.

Only Tennessee Sen. Albert Gore Jr., a Democrat, and former Secretary of State Alexander M. Haig Jr., a Republican, found the going so unfavorable that they pulled out to fight again in a subsequent battle.

Those who stayed found Iowa a hardened, demanding and, yes, self-absorbed state.

Part of the campaign became an endurance contest to see who could visit all 99 of Iowa’s counties. Gephardt did, and between them, Republican Sen. Bob Dole of Kansas and his wife, Elizabeth, did too.

Candidates measured their time on the stump here not in days or weeks, but months. The Des Moines Register newspaper ran a box score of how many days each candidate spent here, and was ready with bare-knuckle editorial-page rebuttals to critics who questioned when enough was too much.

After all, not just tradition underlies voting here. It is the law of the state of Iowa for it to vote first--even if that vote is in a caucus rather than a regular primary.

A caucus is nothing but a neighborhood meeting of the political parties, Democrats in one spot and Republicans in another. On Monday, the gatherings convene at 7 p.m.

In this voting for each party’s nominee, the great imperatives of Iowa are two: human nature and Mother Nature. Monday’s forecast was for lows from 10 below to 10 above, with a chance of snow. This raised the possibility of a reduced turnout among the elderly and constituencies who are only casually committed.

“Some of my older people are warning me if it’s 10-below Monday, they can’t handle it,” says Sanny Thompson, coordinator for Bush in Marshall County.

Otherwise, virtually any Iowan with grit enough to face the chill and with the disposition for political assemblies can attend.

Stand Up for Candidate

Democrats do their voting in the open for all to see, literally “standing up” in groups for a candidate. Republicans cast secret ballots.

The results will be a measure of participants’ preferences only. Actual nominating delegates to the national conventions will be chosen in the summer, and they may or may not reflect the results of Monday’s voting.

Critics of the Iowa system delight in noting that recent elections in Haiti were considered a failure of democracy in part because only 30% or so of the voters participated. Here, only 20% of the voters take part--perhaps 120,000 in each party.

Still, driven by overpowering curiosity to finally find some winners and losers in this campaign, more than a few reporters set up residence in Iowa long enough ago that they could legally vote in the caucuses.

By today, an estimated 2,500 journalists are on hand--enough to put one in each of Iowa’s 2,487 caucus precincts. Reporters are frequently seen reporting stories about the work of other reporters. Anyone in downtown Des Moines without a chain full of passes and credentials around his neck is fair game for TV crews stationed all over town hungry for person-on-the-street interviews.

Half of the nation’s supply of trucks capable of beaming remote television signals to satellites are said to be on station here for the newscasters to proclaim: “Live from Des Moines!”

Elusive Rooms, Cars

Hotel rooms and rental cars are as difficult to find as a natural suntan.

In past elections, Iowa got famous--or notorious, depending on how you look at it--as a place where a surprise can happen, such as Jimmy Carter’s unexpected second-place finish here in 1976 (“uncommitted” took first place).

Perhaps the memorable dynamic this time will be the phenomenon of debates. As never before, this became the campaign of debates. Depending on one’s definition of debate, Democrats had nearly 20, of which 10 were in Iowa. Republicans had fewer than half as many. Frequently, the encounters lasted two hours.

With the Democrats and Republicans having more agreement than disagreements among themselves, it proved to be a repetitive, numbing experience. Some campaign watchers suggested the interminable debates contributed to widespread impressions that the field of candidates lacked stature.

Through it all, Iowa prided itself on being one of the last great showcases of “retail” politics in America. Iowans do not buy their politics from TV, they sniffed.

But that reputation may suffer, thanks to Gephardt. His closing campaign of emotional, populist-flavored television advertisements coincided with his recent explosion in the polls. Ed Campbell, former state Democratic Party chairman, says of Gephardt’s surge: “It could only be his TV.”

The famous maxim of Iowa has been: “Organize, organize, organize, and get hot at the end.” It may need rewriting to “. . . get hot on TV at the end.”

Among the Democrats, Gephardt probably tailored the crispest message for Iowans--laden with anti-Establishment sentiment and offering the promise that action by the federal government can stop the flow of jobs and U.S. capital abroad.

But in fact, the Missouri congressman is only the latest to sweep to the front of the Democratic pack.

“It’s been a Baskin-Robbins kind of campaign, where we had a flavor of the month, almost,” said Phil Roeder, press secretary for Iowa’s Democratic Party.

For a while, Sen. Paul Simon of Illinois ruled the roost with his I’m-an-average-Democrat-and-proud-of-it pitch. Gov. Michael S. Dukakis of Massachusetts caught sight of the top of the pack with his well-financed organization and an aura of administrative competence.

There was a time when the Rev. Jesse Jackson’s crowds were the largest of any Democrat, listening to his appeal for the disaffected of Iowa. Former Gov. Bruce Babbitt of Arizona became a favorite of issue-minded Washington journalists for his attention to details, such as how to really balance the budget.

Hart Once Led

And, of course, Gary Hart led the polls twice--first as the Establishment front-runner spreading New Ideas, and later as the rebellious outsider trying to arise like the phoenix from the ashes of personal scandal.

In the Republican race, Dole played the experiences of his Midwestern background with the slogan directed at Iowans: “He’s one of us.” He has steadily led the polls. Bush emphasized his Washington experience, all the while saying he can survive a defeat here while Dole cannot.

Even as the friction between them glowed hot, however, both plowed the same Republican ground, the moderate old guard.

Increasing Political Power

This was not true of the enigmatic former preacher Pat Robertson. Established Iowa Republicans have for several years watched warily the increasing political power of conservative evangelicals. Robertson’s candidacy will be the most important test yet of the strengths of these factions.

Rep. Jack Kemp of New York feverishly worked special-interest groups, from gun owners to Social Security “notch babies”--those recipients born from 1917 to 1921, who receive lower benefits than their elders. And former Delaware Gov. Pierre S. (Pete) du Pont IV was the relentless iconoclast who challenged farmers to get off the public-subsidy payroll.

Apart from the candidates, the prolonged campaign became a trial of “Iowa--good or bad?”

The handshake nature of much of the Iowa campaign tended to ensure that at least some Americans have been able to gauge the character of the next President face-to-face.

The preponderance of Iowans are experienced and steady enough not to be swept away by sheer celebrity. Many seemed all bent over by the feeling that they carried a special responsibility for all the country--to administer job interviews to all would-be leaders of the Free World.

But among Iowans were the zealous who tended, over the months and years, to flavor the contest with policy minutiae and narrow demands. And there were plenty who tended to take themselves a little too seriously, grousing when the vice president’s Christmas card contained only a signature instead of a handwritten letter, or when a daughter got only a note instead of a phone call on the occasion of her engagement.

“Better to be criticized and examined than ignored,” said the Democratic Party’s Roeder.

Yes, but the nation showed it was happy to ignore Iowa when it could.

For example, when Time magazine placed Iowa on the cover of its Jan. 25 issue, devoting 12 pages to the campaign here, newsstand sales plunged 25%, according to the magazine.

Monday is bound to be different, however. Short of locking oneself in a bank vault or diving into the ocean in a bathyscaph, it will be downright impossible to escape the trumpets and drums of the long-awaited moment when Iowa votes.

Finally.