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One Synergized, the Other Didn’t : STORMING THE STATEHOUSE: Running for Governor With Ann Richards and Dianne Feinstein, <i> By Celia Morris (Charles Scribner’s Sons: $25; 325 pp.)</i>

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<i> Byrne writes of her time as mayor of Chicago in her recently published book "My Chicago" (W.W. Norton)</i>

If elections were rational, logical and predictable, the tough but caring Dianne Feinstein would be governor of California and Ann Richards would be contemplating her political future. But elections are quirky, not logical, and a liberal Democratic feminist is governor of the conservative, predominantly Republican state of Texas, while Pete Wilson governs California.

Celia Morris provides an in-depth and entertaining contrast of the 1990 campaigns of Feinstein and Richards. Morris seems to understand that campaigns come to have a life of their own and that despite the media consultants, spin doctors, pollsters and other modern-day political necessities, the most insignificant thing can make or break the election.

Most elections are won or lost in the last three weeks. In the Texas election, Clayton Williams, Richards’ Republican opponent, had established himself as the successor to the traditional conservative politics of Gov. Pappy (Pass the Biscuits) O’Daniels. In one interview, Williams declared: “I am Bubba.” Three weeks before the election, Williams and Richards ran into one another at a campaign forum. Richards extended her hand and Williams refused to shake it. Now, Bubba and Pappy would have shaken the lady’s hand. Williams’ failure to do so, shown over and over again on the news and in Richards’ ads, undid his careful months of image-building.

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The half of the book describing the Richards campaign is warmly anecdotal. Morris is a Texan who clearly knows her state and its players. The reader is led through one of the nastiest primary fights and runoffs in Texas history. Richards, a recovering alcoholic, was forced to address charges by her opponents about illegal drug use, after which her negative rating rose above 50% and her confidence plummeted. Ultimately, Richards applied one of the tenets she had learned in her addiction-recovery process and “let go and let God.” After this, the campaign took off.

In one chapter, Morris provides a splendid example of what a good day in a campaign feels like to the candidate, the staff and the voters. Liz Carpenter, Lady Bird Johnson’s former press secretary, realized that the young Richards campaign staff, having entered the political process in the dry days of number crunches, negative advertising and focus groups, had never enjoyed a good old-fashioned Texas-style campaign event. Carpenter called on her friends Judy Moyers (Bill’s wife) and B. A. Bentsen (Lloyd’s wife) to organize an East Texas caravan, a traveling road show of music, song, speeches and barbecue. The Whistle Stop Caravan, described by Carpenter herself as a dog-and-pony show, ultimately delivered East Texas for Richards.

It seems amazing that in a state the size of Texas, a few quirky events like Williams’ rudeness and Carpenter’s road show can have such a big impact. The timing of both events was important, coming as they did in the last crucial weeks when the undecideds were making up their minds. Williams’ refusal to shake hands gave the undecideds a reason not to vote for him. Carpenter’s show showed them a positive and energetic candidate to vote for, a key difference in a season where most voters complained that they were tired of simply voting against candidates. Ultimately, Morris’ tale of the purgatory that Ann Richards went through to become governor leaves the reader amazed, awed and happy that the term in office is long enough for Richards to get a little rest.

Morris’ description of the Feinstein campaign is much less anecdotal. Feinstein is described as a “hands-on” type of politician. Morris clearly implies that while such obsession with detail is important in office, it can be fatal in a political campaign where the candidate’s energies are better utilized in more productive areas such as fund raising and vote gathering. We learn that Feinstein selected the “Tough but Caring” motto herself, but only one of the dozens of television ads she ran came close to illustrating how she actually perceived herself.

But there’s no persuasive logical explanation for Feinstein’s loss. Neither the Feinstein nor the Wilson campaign made any major gaffes or missteps; Feinstein’s just never picked up the life of its own that Richards describes as synergy.

Coming as it does after the richly detailed story of the Richards campaign, the Feinstein half of the book portrays the California race as a boring one. Feinstein came out of the primary leading Wilson in the polls, but her lead flattened out as the race lost its fizzle. Feinstein chose to image herself as blandly competent, rather than risk raising her negatives. Considering the closeness of the results, this was perhaps the most difficult call made in the course of her campaign.

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Both candidates failed to convey their visions of the future for the voters, and, according to Morris, Californians voted for Wilson because he represented the traditional, more comfortable type of governor. Since there were no shocks or scandals in the campaign, voters went back to tradition, and the traditions of California did not include women governors.

Exactly what caused the Richards campaign to win despite high negatives, inexperienced organizers and a fractured Democratic party will never be known, just as the reasons for Feinstein’s loss, despite an almost textbook-perfect campaign, are inexplicable. Once a campaign energizes, or, as Richards would say, “synergizes,” it becomes an uncontrollable force. The Richards campaign energized just in time. The Feinstein campaign, full of energy at the close of the primary, failed to recharge in time for the general election.

Comparisons are difficult. No two elections, no two states, and certainly no two candidates are easy to contrast. Feinstein and Richards are wholly dissimilar women who did--and should have--run wholly dissimilar campaigns. The irony of Celia Morris’ book is that, for more than a century, men have been running for the governorships of California and Texas, and no one has ever tried to contrast them.

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