His Moonbeam Still Glows on Long Island : Brown: The former governor is playing by the self-effacing rules of his job as California’s Democratic Party chairman, but Ben Zwirn knows the magic is still there.

Since his election as California Democratic Party chairman early this year, Jerry Brown has remained pretty much in the background. That’s where state party leaders are supposed to remain, although few expected it of the former governor.

He tries to play his politics as straight and as dull as possible these days, in contrast to the off-the-wall approach he took while governor of California. During those eight years he acquired such mocking nicknames as “Gov. Moonbeam,” “the space cadet” and “the mad monk.”

Brown does his best to live down that reputation. He dutifully attends the kind of political gatherings that he once avoided. He promotes voter registration drives, and he works hard at persuading wealthy and loyal Democrats like San Francisco’s Ann Getty to donate big sums of money to support state party activities. He has managed to create something of a new Jerry Brown.

Whether the new model, even after possible further improvements, ever would be able to persuade a majority of voters to forget some of his previous liabilities and permit him to win high public office again remains a matter of debate. If he ever did regain a leading role on the national political stage, it would be an even more remarkable comeback than the one Richard Nixon accomplished following his defeat in California’s 1962 race for governor.

But Brown has shown he still has the capacity to surprise. He also retains a loyal band of supporters who look to the day when he may re-emerge as a more potent force in politics, and they’re not limited to California. Those of us who wrote him off in the past may someday have to eat our words.

Evidence that Brown’s name still exerts some magic could be seen in an unlikely place in this month’s elections and far outside California’s borders. Brown is given credit for helping elect a young New Yorker named Ben Zwirn to an obscure job in Long Island’s Nassau County. In a major upset, Zwirn became the first Democrat since 1917 to win the post of North Hempstead town supervisor.

Brown made an unusual appearance at a Zwirn fund-raiser a few weeks before the election. That speech attracted considerable local attention and, according to Bill Biamonte, the candidate’s campaign manager, fired up voters to give Zwirn the support he needed to narrowly defeat a four-term Republican incumbent in an area where the GOP has a big registration advantage.

Brown’s appearance, the only one he made outside the state in behalf of a candidate, helped Zwirn in several ways. He assisted in raising a lot of money and in focusing public attention on the campaign. Brown’s appearance also caused major New York Democrats, including the state’s governor, Mario Cuomo, to sit up and take notice of Zwirn and provide him with even more help.

The most interesting aspect about Brown’s role in the Zwirn campaign was what it revealed about the former governor’s continuing political assets.

One is the press’ continuing fascination with Brown, who gained considerable newspaper attention during his visit to Long Island. Some of this was reflected in a Newsday column describing him in these terms:

“In his newest incarnation, the 51-year-old Brown--balding, graying and slightly paunchy in an expensive, European-style suit--is no longer a political boy wonder. But he is still a curious, provocative, elusive man with Type A written all over him.”

No less important is the continuing support of a core of political activists who ardently believe that Brown still has a vital role in play in public affairs. Zwirn campaign manager Biamonte is one such believer. He counts himself as a Brown supporter since the Californian’s first run for the presidency in 1976.

Biamonte was only a high school senior at that time, but four years later, during Brown’s second try for the White House, Biamonte, by then a Nassau College student, worked hard as a campaign volunteer. By most standards, Brown’s 1980 effort turned out almost as dismally as some of Harold Stassen’s presidential ventures. Instead of being disillusioned by Brown’s failure, however, Biamonte became even more committed to politics and to the thought of Brown as a politician of the future.

“Every time I hear him speak, I learn something new,” Biamonte said recently.

Brown, in some circles, was derided for his 1980 campaign slogan, “Protect the earth, serve the people, explore the universe,” but Biamonte still views it as visionary. Even President Bush, Biamonte noted, has borrowed from the theme, giving at least lip service to the ideas behind it.

So this year, Biamonte, now 30 and leading the Zwirn campaign, had the idea that Brown might be willing to lend a helping hand. He checked with individuals in California close to Brown--”It’s like a little network,” he said--and found that he would be in the East in October to participate in the 25-year reunion of his Yale Law School class and to attend the annual Al Smith dinner in New York. He invited Brown, who accepted.

Cuomo, while praising the Zwirn campaign, said he was amazed that a dark-horse candidate for a town supervisor’s job could enlist the former California chief executive to work in his behalf.

“Hey, that’s an important man,” Cuomo said. “He could be President someday.”

Brown neatly skipped over the reference when it was repeated to him by a reporter: “Who was he talking about?” Brown asked. “Zwirn?”