Early Democratic Hopefuls Betting Bush Will Stumble : Politics: ‘Free thinkers’ enter race as President’s strength discourages major party figures from running.

“This is not your normal run of Democratic candidates,” former Massachusetts Sen. Paul E. Tsongas says of himself and the other seekers after the 1992 Democratic presidential nomination. “There are a lot of free thinkers, a lot of people who are unpredictable.”

Tsongas’ assessment, widely adhered to among party leaders and independent analysts, points up the two overriding realities governing the Democrats’ prospects for regaining the White House after five defeats in the last six elections.

The first is that President Bush is currently so strong that the best known and the most established Democrats have been discouraged from entering the race, and even the less prominent candidates have greatly delayed kicking off their campaigns.

The second reality, which is drawing Tsongas and his rivals into the fray, is that the circumstances now making Bush seem invincible could change--enough to make the Democrats competitive in next year’s battle. Although the events in the Soviet Union have dominated the spotlight--and buoyed the President’s standing--voter uneasiness over the precarious state of the economy remains high, and events could turn against Bush in other arenas as well.

And party professionals believe that the current crop of contenders will gain stature with time and exposure. “When you are running against an incumbent President, you always start off looking small,” said Michael Ford, a veteran of the Walter F. Mondale campaign. “All these guys are going to seem bigger once they start running.”

Meanwhile, because of the relative obscurity of the candidates, the brief time they have had to prepare and the limited financial resources they can command, uncertainity prevails about how the campaign will be waged.

“It’s like the world before creation, unformed and void,” said pollster Mark Mellman, an adviser to the 1988 campaign of Tennessee Sen. Albert Gore Jr., one of many prominent Democrats who chose to watch the 1992 campaign from the sidelines.

So far, only three nationally prominent Democrats have formally announced their candidacies: Tsongas, who declared last April; Virginia Gov. L. Douglas Wilder, who took the plunge last week, and Iowa Sen. Tom Harkin, who followed suit last Sunday.

Expected to declare themselves shortly are Arkansas Gov. Bill Clinton, Nebraska Sen. Bob Kerrey and former California Gov. Edmund G. (Jerry) Brown Jr.

A possible late entrant, Oklahoma Rep. Dave McCurdy, like Clinton a leader in the centrist-minded Democratic Leadership Council, said last week that he was “seriously considering” seeking the nomination.

And other possibilities include New York Gov. Mario M. Cuomo, although he insists he has no plans to run, and the Rev. Jesse Jackson, although many believe he will choose to be host of a television talk show instead.

About all that is clear about the field is that none of them can be considered a front-runner in the race for the nomination. And all of them start out as decided underdogs when stacked up against Bush.

The President’s standing in the polls, which soared to record heights last February after the 100-hour triumph of the Gulf War, remains high. And his lead in polling matchups against Democratic presidential possibilities is of historic proportions.

A July survey taken for the Wall Street Journal and NBC News showed Bush beating Cuomo, the top choice of Democratic voters, by a margin of 60% to 30%. Only once since presidential polling began in 1936 has either party been that far ahead at this stage of the quadrennial--in 1951, when Dwight D. Eisenhower led Harry S. Truman by more than 2 to 1. (Truman opted not to seek reelection.)

But, as Democrats know only too well, poll results can change with time. In October of 1983, a Gallup poll showed Republican President Ronald Reagan trailing Democrat Mondale by 44% to 50%. In the election, Mondale carried only one state--his own Minnesota.

Anyway, Democrats say being an underdog and an insurgent could turn out to be the key to success in 1992, pointing to Truman’s upset victory over Thomas E. Dewey in 1948.

“We are a nation that loves underdogs,” said Larry K. Smith, who helped plan the early strategy for Gary Hart’s 1984 campaign.

And, despite the poll results in Bush’s favor, Democrats cite other numbers that they contend demonstrate his vulnerability unless the economy, now struggling to emerge from recession, regains its Reagan era zip.

As evidence of public anxiety about the economy, they point to August declines in both the consumer confidence index of the Conference Board, a business research group, and the “consumer comfort” rating of ABC News and Money magazine. The latter dropped to -38 on a scale from +100 to -100, down from an average of -24 in 1990 and -11 in 1989.

Taking into account all the ifs and buts, the bottom line question remains: Can the Democrats defeat a war-winning commander-in-chief who has managed to ingratiate himself with nearly every sector of the citizenry?

“The answer is, if the election is tomorrow, no,” said Clinton. “Very few people could even carry their home states. But, when the country is clearly on the wrong track and people have figured that out, then there is an opportunity to offer an alternative.”

Whether Democrats can convince the voters, first, that the country is on the wrong track under Bush and, second, that they are the ones to chart a better course will depend greatly on who their candidate is. If they pick the right one, some analysts believe he can offset much of the political baggage that has dragged Democrats down to defeat in the past.

“They need to find a candidate who can stir up the country without laying himself open to a lot of negative ads,” said Brookings Institution senior fellow James Sundquist. “People don’t pay nearly as much attention to parties these days as they do to personality. I think the right candidate can surmount any party image that might exist.”

Meanwhile, party professionals divide the field of Democratic prospects into two tiers. On top, given the best chance of gaining the nomination, they place Kerrey, Harkin and Clinton, because all are current officeholders who have achieved a measure of national recognition. In the second tier are Tsongas and Brown, neither of whom has held office for nearly a decade, and Wilder, who has been governor of Virginia for barely 20 months. In addition, Wilder, as a black candidate, must contend with continuing racial prejudice, a factor that cut into his victory margin in Virginia.

Here is how the pros handicap the field on an individual basis:

BROWN: In some ways, Brown’s resume is more impressive than any of his rivals’. None can match his experience as two-term governor of the nation’s largest state, from 1974 to 1982, and two-time candidate for his party’s presidential nomination, in 1976 and 1980. Yet, at age 53, he has chosen to run not as a senior statesman but rather as an anti-politician, focusing on disillusionment with what he calls “the breakdown and corruption in our political system.”

Many Democrats believe that Brown’s indictment of “the forces of greed and narrow special interests” is a potentially powerful message. But some question whether Brown is a suitable messenger.

His six-year sabbatical from politics, part of which he spent studying Zen Buddhism in Japan and as a volunteer serving Mother Teresa in India, could refuel his old reputation as an oddball. Moreover, his abrupt decision to abandon his U.S. Senate candidacy may reinforce a perception of him as an opportunist.

CLINTON: As the lone white Southerner in the race, Clinton could lay claim to a solid base in Dixie. But he cannot afford to be dismissed as the Southern candidate, or he will suffer the same also-ran fate that befell Tennessee’s Sen. Gore in 1988.

Clinton’s link to the centrist Democratic Leadership Council, whose chairmanship he recently resigned, is another two-edged sword. His espousal of the council’s agenda of revisionist ideas on the role of government could help him with white-collar voters and yuppies. But these views make him suspect to liberal activists, who are particularly troubled by the implications of Clinton’s stress on “personal responsibility” for beneficiaries of federal aid, meaning aid could be made conditional rather than automatic.

The 45-year-old former Rhodes scholar also has a potential personal problem--allegations of womanizing made by political foes in Arkansas. Clinton has refused to discuss his personal life, saying only that his marriage is solid.

HARKIN: Fast emerging as the most forceful voice for traditional Democratic beliefs since the late Hubert H. Humphrey, Harkin probably has the clearest shot at capturing the vitally important liberal wing of the party. But he cannot allow himself to be painted into a corner on the left any more than Clinton can let himself be pigeonholed on the right.

Harkin prefers to bill himself as the candidate of the middle class rather than the underclass. “The traditional values of the Democratic Party are the strength of the middle class,” he argues, citing the idea of economic opportunity

Evidence suggests that the 51-year-old Harkin, who tends to be hot tempered and strong willed, is more of a maverick than a doctrinaire liberal. For example, he backs a constitutional amendment to balance the budget, an idea that is anathema to the left. “I think the amendment sends a strong signal,” he explained.

KERREY: As a Vietnam veteran who won the Medal of Honor and lost his right leg in combat, Kerrey would bring to his party as its nominee a built-in immunity against the perennial Republican charge that Democrats are not rigorous enough about guarding the national security.

The 48-year-old Kerrey’s hero status, along with his virile good looks and rough and ready manner give him a measure of charisma, enhanced by recollections of his romance with actress Debra Winger, back when he was governor of Nebraska.

More substantively, Kerrey is harder to categorize than Clinton and Harkin. His liberal voting record and his advocacy of national health insurance could pull in potential Harkin supporters, and his war record and business background could pull from Clinton’s white-collar base.

“Kerrey has the opportunity to cut across ideological boundaries,” said William Carrick, manager of the 1988 campaign of Rep. Richard A. Gephardt (D-Mo.).

TSONGAS: The bad news for Tsongas is that, despite having the campaign stage basically to himself for more than four months, this self-styled “economic Paul Revere” has gained little measurable advantage for his candidacy. The good news is that the entrance of other candidates will spur interest in the campaign and give him a chance to be heard before bigger audiences.

Tsongas’ assets are seriousness of purpose, leavened by self-deprecating humor, devotion to substance and recognition that the Democratic Party needs to change the way it addresses major issues, particularly economic policy. In addition, the 50-year-old Tsongas’ conquest of cancer adds a poignant, human dimension to his candidacy.

His chief liability may be his low-keyed manner. “He just seemed too diffident,” complained one Iowa state official after an uninspiring get-acquainted session with the candidate. In addition, party pros say, Tsongas’ prescriptions for economic cures--which touch on such matters as the exposure of corporate directors to shareholders’ lawsuits--are too technical and too oriented to business to capture the interest of Democratic audiences.

WILDER: His willingness to cut against the political grain helped make him the first black elected governor in the nation’s history. Not content with this achievement, the restless Wilder once again rejected conventional wisdom and thrust forward to the national stage, casting himself as an apostle of fiscal discipline.

“Government must live within its means lest it break the backs of the taxpayers” is the gospel he has been preaching. This message, combined with the aura of change that surrounds him as a black governor, offers him an opportunity to assemble the same sort of coalition of middle-class white and blacks that elected him governor.

But, with less than two years as Virginia’s chief executive under his belt, he may have a hard time convincing primary voters that he can deal with domestic and foreign issues on a presidential level. Another drawback may be his natural combativeness, underlined by his recent feud with Virginia Democratic Sen. Charles S. Robb. That could antagonize party leaders and voters alike.