CAMPAIGN JOURNAL : Spies Work Enemy Turf in Race for Information

Jonathan Foster had barely settled into his seat at a recent press conference in Burbank when he was abruptly ordered to leave.

“You know the drill,” Foster recalls being told by an aide to Republican state attorney general candidate Dan Lungren. “You’ve gotta go.”

Foster reluctantly collected his tape recorder and note pad and marched back to his office--campaign central for Lungren’s Democratic foe, San Francisco Dist. Atty. Arlo Smith.

Foster is not a reporter. He is a spy.

“We are going to find out about what (Lungren) says sooner or later, so the faster we can get our two cents in, the better,” said Foster, a veteran of campaign espionage, having spied for unsuccessful gubernatorial candidate John K. Van de Kamp before joining Smith’s campaign.

“It is all public stuff. We would never go to headquarters and sneak around.”

Foster belongs to a small corps of campaign workers sprinkled among reporters at press conferences from Sacramento to San Diego who gather what one described as “counterintelligence” on the enemy.

They record speeches, keep track of reporters’ questions, collect opposition press releases and, above all, carefully document charges made against their bosses. A good spy takes notes quickly, carries spare batteries and tape cassettes and always knows where to find a telephone to call campaign headquarters.

“It is good battlefield experience,” said Dee Dee Myers, press secretary to Democratic gubernatorial candidate Dianne Feinstein and a former spy for Los Angeles Mayor Tom Bradley and Massachusetts Gov. Michael Dukakis. “I haven’t been out spying much this campaign because I have been with Dianne. But it is good training, and it is very useful to the campaign.”

Although campaign-style espionage lacks the intrigue of a John le Carre novel, a well-run network of loyal spies, Myers and others say, can be crucial in tight campaigns that are waged in large part through the news media.

Thanks to good intelligence gathering, candidates are able to devise damage control strategies and put favorable spins on allegations by opponents while reporters, fresh from a press conference, are still making sense of their notes. When reporters call for a response, it is ready.

“As soon as Pete Wilson has a press conference, nine times out of 10 there is a reason for a response,” said Jonas Hanelin, who keeps an eye on Feinstein’s Republican gubernatorial opponent. “By being there, it makes it quicker for everyone.”

Most spies have other jobs in the campaign--Foster is issues director for Smith, for instance, and Hanelin arranges Feinstein’s Southern California appearances. Ever image conscious, they generally dislike being referred to as a spy, secret agent, mole, 007 or any other name that betrays a penchant for espionage.

“This isn’t Watergate,” said James Lee, Wilson’s deputy press secretary and top spy. “It is hard to do spying when most of the political reporters of the state are present. There is not a lot left to the imagination.”

Most campaign spies, indeed, are well known--and generally tolerated--in opposing camps. Myers and Lee talk to each other at events, and Myers said Feinstein has an open-door policy at her press conferences. Wilson’s campaign, in turn, accommodates Feinstein spies.

“You want to stay friendly with other staffers even if they are on the other side because you never know if you will end up on the same side as them,” said Hanelin, who a few months ago was spying on Feinstein, his current boss, for Van de Kamp. ‘We don’t try to hide from each other.”

Spying, however, is not always so genteel. Foster said he has been kicked out of several of Lungren’s press conferences, even though the Smith campaign has not restricted access to its events. In such cases, more sophisticated espionage techniques become necessary.

At Lungren’s recent Burbank press conference, Smith’s campaign outsmarted its foes by sending two spies: Foster and an unidentified campaign volunteer. Foster would not confirm it, but he apparently was intended as a decoy.

When, as predicted, Lungren’s aide ejected Foster, the unsuspected backup spy clicked on a tape recorder and went to work.