Ronald Reagan’s Farewell: The Power and the Glory

The last temptation of Ron. . . .

He gave in to his deep desire to charm and persuade once more. While delivering his farewell address as party leader, his spirit seemed to descend from the podium and embrace the delegates attending this week’s Republican National Convention in the New Orleans Superdome.

And the delegates melted.

here was something at once seductive and religious about Monday’s convention opening that TV anchors repeatedly titled “Ronald Reagan’s Night,” an evening where the President displayed his humanity and political divinity.

Surely speaking for the minority, ABC floor reporter Jeff Greenfield gave Reagan’s speech only a C.

“I think Ronald Reagan has done much better,” said Greenfield, himself a former political speech writer. But he added: “These delegates would have cheered for him if he read a phone book.”

That’s the point. As always, it wasn’t what Reagan said that mattered, or even how he said it. He did indeed seem tenuous at times, and he made mistakes, once saying facts are “stupid” when he meant “stubborn,” and another time saying “liberal” when he meant “local.” Nor was he a rousing speaker, typically lacking fire and a strong voice.

Once again, however, Reagan had what no other speaker has. He had . . . himself. There is a critical moment early in every Reagan TV speech when his physical presence begins to eclipse his words, when you begin watching more and hearing less, feeling more and thinking less.

Look and mood completely take over. That presence on TV--just the sight of him cocking his head with his sincere grin and lopsided hair--is still worth a thousand words and millions of votes.

Reagan is the only movie star who became a good actor after he retired from the screen. That easy theatricality glowed luminously in Monday night’s gorgeously produced propaganda film on Reagan that was shown in the hall before his speech but that only CNN and C-SPAN ran in its entirety. NBC aired only the end of it, while CBS and ABC made a better decision in running portions of the film within the context of critical analysis by Bill Plante and Greenfield, respectively.

What a film. What a pile of corn. What an effective pile of corn. Narrated by Reagan, it sentimentally and melodramatically toured his presidential life, stressing the positive and omitting the negative. If about anyone else, it would have been laughable. But Ronald Reagan has given corn a good name.

The ending was simply incredible. Ron about Nancy: “I can’t imagine life without her.” Violins. Close-ups of the beaming couple hugging, then a long shot of them strolling toward the woods as she gives him a playful kick.

If only they were really this perfect. If only America were really this perfect.

In airing only segments of this weepy, adoring political statement, the networks were expressing their independence and determination to resist the propaganda winds of the Republican National Committee.

But of course they had already bent to manipulation by Democrats and Republicans in this political season, long before the parties’ national conventions. And they had done some manipulating themselves, using the candidates’ inevitable media events and photo opportunities to fill air time during the marathon campaign.

So, in a sense, the parties’ national conventions are merely pit stops in the same process, one that gives each side an opportunity to polish images in the absence of real news.

“Ronald Reagan’s Night” surely wasn’t a news night, unless speculation about Vice President George Bush’s choice for his running mate--and when he would announce his choice--qualified as news.

His aides were saying it would be on Thursday. But cut quickly to CBS correspondent Diane Sawyer on the podium, who said, “We hear up here” that Bush may announce his choice on Wednesday (today) instead of Thursday. Yes, when there isn’t any news, everything becomes news.

Take the convention floor, as another example, where ABC’s Lynn Sherr had found two delegates from Washington (a stronghold of former GOP candidate Pat Robertson) whose names, she said, were on a GOP blacklist of delegates who “should not come into contact with the press.”

Sherr asked them if they minded being on the list. They didn’t seem to mind. She asked them why they were on the list. They didn’t seem to know. Sherr didn’t know either. In the ABC skybooth, Peter Jennings and David Brinkley said they didn’t know either. That made it unanimous.

Well, no one ever said being a floor reporter at a political convention was easy. ABC’s Greenfield, who’s new to the job, compares it to “doing live coverage of the running of the bulls at Pamplona.”

That analogy seemed to apply Monday. “I’m stuck here in the middle of a mob scene,” CBS correspondent Leslie Stahl reported from the floor during a massive demonstration for Reagan.

The President fared better on this night than did another old soldier. There, inside the CBS skybooth above the convention floor, Walter Cronkite sat opposite Dan Rather, as he had at last month’s Democratic National Convention in Atlanta.

Apparently aimed at presenting an image of fusion between CBS News past and present, these awkward Dan-and-Walter chats instead are painful to watch, the words of both men bursting like fat, empty bubbles.

Rather suggested that Reagan’s active participation in Vice President George Bush’s presidential race would lessen the campaign burden of Bush’s running mate.

“Yes . . . I suppose you could say that,” said Cronkite, weightily. On the other hand, Cronkite added, if Bush picks a running mate skilled at campaigning, “We’ll know that.” But if Bush picks a running mate less skilled at campaigning, he continued, “We’ll know that, too. So we won’t know the strategy until we know the man.”

“And,” added Rather, “as Diane reported from the podium, we might-- might --know that as early as Wednesday night, certainly no later than Thursday morning.”

Thank you, Dan and Walter, for one more enlightening exchange.

This is a curious public rapprochement between two men who have been reported, at various times, to be antagonistic toward each another. On the screen, at least, Rather now seems almost worshipful of his predecessor, ascribing to him the wisdom of the ages.

At one point, Cronkite described Reagan as the most successful Republican President since Abraham Lincoln. On CBS, at least, that made it official. In mentioning Reagan a little later, Rather added this was the same man “who Walter Cronkite described as the most successful Republican President since President Lincoln, a few minutes ago.” Call the wire services.

Not that cheering GOP delegates in New Orleans needed reminding of Ronald Reagan’s special qualities, for they had been there that evening when the saint came marching in.