Rockefeller’s Visibility Rises as ’92 Hopeful

Sen. John D. (Jay) Rockefeller IV (D-W. V.) traveled only 596 miles when he flew here from Miami last weekend seeking support for a possible presidential campaign. But it felt as though he had crossed the border between different countries.

On Saturday morning, Rockefeller toured a Miami shelter for abused and severely ill infants whose hopes were stunted before birth by mothers who used cocaine or could not afford medical care. By Saturday night he was raising money in the comfortable suburban home of an Atlanta attorney, a place of elegant antiques and long green lawns where anything seemed possible.

Candidates often veer between the extremes of society as they search alternately for exposure and money. But the contrast seems especially appropriate for Rockefeller--a politician who is defining himself on the national stage as an advocate for threatened children, yet who is indelibly stamped with the imprimatur of privilege.

Both elements of that combination are raising Rockefeller’s visibility in the nascent Democratic presidential race. Over the past month, he has received enormous publicity as chairman of the National Commission on Children, a federal panel whose late June report recommended a new $1,000 tax credit for every child, and the expansion of educational and health care programs for disadvantaged children.

But he may be attracting even more notice from activists intrigued with the prospect of a Democratic presidential bid from a man whose name is synonymous with wealth and more typically associated with the moderate Republicanism of his late uncle Nelson A. Rockefeller, the former governor of New York.

“Because of his name he does carry some star quality with him and that is helpful in the initial stages,” says one Democrat close to another potential candidate. “Whether he can sustain that is another question.”

Rockefeller, who is just entering his second term in the Senate after serving eight years as West Virginia’s governor, says he is still about three weeks away from a final decision on whether to seek the nomination. The key remaining concern, he says, is the disruption a race would cause for his family, particularly his wife, Sharon Percy Rockefeller, who is now president of the public television station in Washington, D.C.

“If you talk publicly about families and children, then you have to act responsibly privately in terms of families and children,” he says.

Despite those hesitations, Rockefeller, 54, is behaving like a man drawn toward the track. He has started raising money in several states--while holding open the possibility of using his personal fortune to finance a race--and has discussed the rigors of campaigning with Gary Hart, Walter F. Mondale and Jimmy Carter.

Last weekend, Rockefeller visited Florida, Georgia, Louisiana and Texas--part of an extended tour that will take him to 17 cities this month promoting both his presidential prospects and the children’s commission recommendations. “I see no reason for anything but encouragement,” Rockefeller says of his reception so far.

Even so, Rockefeller still seems more accomplished selling the commission than himself. At the Jackson Hospital Infant/Toddler Shelter Center in Miami, for example, Rockefeller lifted a tiny premature baby to his shoulder and gently stroked the child’s back as he asked a doctor precise questions about the infant’s care. In New Orleans, he let a family lead him away from his tour to visit their disabled daughter who was recovering from a spinal operation. “God bless you both for your perseverance,” he said quietly as he left the bedside.

In his private meetings with political leaders and fund raisers across the South last weekend, Rockefeller was just as earnest and personable, but less focused. He introduced himself and talked about economics, children’s issues, health care and his case against President Bush, though without anything resembling a clear progression from subject to subject.

“This guy needs work,” said one prominent Democrat who has seen Rockefeller in several private meetings. “In some ways he projects well; in other ways, like getting bogged down in details, he loses it.”

Many of the potential contenders for the Democratic presidential nomination are already organizing their message around a central core. Former Massachusetts Sen. Paul E. Tsongas, the only announced candidate, is calling on the party to work more closely with business; Iowa Sen. Tom Harkin is delivering venerable Midwestern populism at a paint-peeling pitch; Arkansas Gov. Bill Clinton is championing a drive to “reinvent government” with new approaches to social problems.

For Rockefeller, who left a State Department job to become a VISTA volunteer in West Virginia during the 1960s, the closest analogy appears to be a general call for the nation to pay more attention to domestic problems. His message is an unusual mosaic of ideas both liberal and conservative, old and new, assembled in a pattern that doesn’t always meet at right angles.

Rockefeller touches strong liberal notes, insisting that even costly programs to rescue disadvantaged children are essential to the nation’s future economic health. “The loss of productivity when kids don’t get training and education is a devastating price for America to pay . . . every kid has to be fought over,” he argues.

But Rockefeller also is comfortable with ideas that unsettle many liberals: He heartily endorses policies that demand greater personal responsibility from recipients of government aid, and repeatedly insists that the Democratic nominee must be able to say no to the leading party constituency groups. The fact that the children’s commission’s principal proposal for helping families was a large tax cut, rather than a new federal program, also represents a significant departure from recent Democratic tradition.

Rockefeller further spices this blend with an assertive economic nationalism that calls for tougher negotiations with European and Asian trading partners. “I think we are in a very serious, somewhat desperate struggle for national economic survival,” he says.

To some Democrats, the most surprising aspect of Rockefeller’s appearances over the past month is the fervor with which he criticizes President Bush. Despite what now appear long odds for any Democrat, Rockefeller seems genuinely eager to take on Bush--a man Rockefeller portrays as betraying a background not unlike his own with “cynical” political attacks on such issues as racial quotas.

“Whatever there was in what was a basically progressive Republican Teddy Roosevelt upbringing went down the tubes when he signed on with Ronald Reagan,” Rockefeller says. “Part of my disappointment in him is he simply ought to know better.”

As for his own gilded pedigree, Rockefeller says he doesn’t foresee it causing any difficulties if he decides to run--though it may take some time for Democrats to get used to the great-grandson of the founder of Standard Oil declaring “it’s time to stop worrying about the wealthy and well-connected.”

“I honestly don’t know if it would be a problem or not,” says Geoff Garin, who has done public polling for Rockefeller. “But remember, this is the party that is proudest of Franklin Roosevelt and John Kennedy (both from wealthy families), so a Rockefeller would be more in character than out of it.”