Daschle Faces Firmly Rooted GOP Rival

By local standards, this hamlet has been bustling lately. Not only has the car museum acquired a super-charged manure spreader, but a hometown boy is embroiled in one of the hottest political races in the country.

Signs supporting Republican John Thune have sprung up like cornstalks on lawns all around this prairie town of 560 residents, 50 miles south of Pierre.

Thune, a 43-year-old former U.S. congressman, is battling Democratic Senate Minority Leader Tom Daschle, who is seeking a fourth term. Aside from the presidential contest, some political analysts say, this is the most significant race in the country -- one likely to be settled by a thousand votes or less. And it’s expected to cost $25 million by the time it’s over.

Republicans here and on the national scene are eager to defeat Daschle, a longtime thorn in their side, saying it would be an enormous psychological victory over the Democrats. They have poured money into the state and bombarded the airwaves with commercials claiming the incumbent is two-faced for courting conservatives at home while voting with liberals in Washington. Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist (R-Tenn.) even traveled to South Dakota last spring to campaign for Thune.

Daschle “seems to have a split personality,” said Randy Frederick, who heads the state GOP. “He attacks [President] Bush in Washington, then runs commercials here showing him hugging Bush.”

Thune, who ran against U.S. Sen. Tim Johnson, a Democrat, in 2002 and lost by 524 votes, said Daschle’s effort to woo conservatives was disconcerting.

“He’s adopted so many conservative positions that I feel like I’m having a debate with myself,” Thune said. “Now he won’t even answer whether he’s pro-choice or not.”

Daschle, 56, was unavailable for comment. But his deputy campaign manager, Dan Pfeiffer, said the incumbent had been consistent.

“This is an absolutely absurd charge,” Pfeiffer said. “Tom goes to all 66 counties every year, he is incredibly well known. It is frustrating to Thune that he is unable to destroy Daschle’s record and credibility.”

He said Daschle was personally opposed to abortion, but doesn’t think criminalizing it is the way to address the issue.

“The reason this race is close is simple,” Pfeiffer said. “The state has 11% more Republicans than Democrats. Thune has locked down his Republican base, but unless he can get more independents and Daschle’s Republican voters, it’s impossible for him to win.”

Indeed, South Dakota has a strong populist strain and routinely sends Democrats to Washington. Both senators and its one congresswoman, Rep. Stephanie Herseth, are Democrats. The GOP, however, dominates state politics.

“There is a sense of putting the Republicans at the state level to watch the till and sending Democrats to Washington to fill it,” said Bill Richardson, political science professor at the University of South Dakota.

In three previous elections, so-called soft Republicans -- those less-partisan voters living in the more populous region east of the Missouri River -- have helped send Daschle to the Senate. Those living west of the river, in farming and ranch areas like Murdo, tend to be more conservative.

But with a nation polarized by the race between President Bush and Sen. John F. Kerry, some observers think the soft Republicans could harden this time.

“Every good contact I have there says the race is as tight as a tick now,” said Larry Sabato, director of the Center for Politics at the University of Virginia. “I thought Daschle’s incumbency would carry him, but I didn’t count on the overwhelming intensity of the presidential race -- which is redefining Senate races.

“If you go in and vote for Kerry, you will vote for Democrats; if you vote for Bush, you will vote for Republicans. Ticket-splitting used to keep Daschle alive, but polarization is so strong people won’t split their votes.”

Republicans have made Daschle’s opposition to a constitutional amendment to ban same-sex marriage a centerpiece of their efforts to unseat him. Thune supports such an amendment.

“We think the gay marriage thing is a big deal,” said Dick Wadhams, campaign manager for Thune. “Seventy-five percent of South Dakotans oppose gay marriage. It’s an issue where he is clearly on the opposite side of most people here.”

But Daschle supporters say that he’s one of the best-known senators in the country -- with a record of bringing money and resources into the state. They believe that electing Thune would reduce dramatically their state’s influence on the national level.

“I don’t think South Dakotans want to give up all that experience and clout in Washington,” said Judy Olson-Duhamel, state Democratic Party chairwoman.

Pfeiffer said it would be like taking out a veteran quarterback on the one-yard line and replacing him with a rookie.

“There is absolutely no question that replacing a Senate leader with a person who is number 100 in a body of 100 would hurt the state and put it at the back of the line,” he said.

People in this state of 764,000 get to know their politicians well, and consider themselves to be on a first-name basis. “Tom” and “John” are thought of as decent men with admirable records but differing viewpoints.

Each year, Daschle drives through every county in South Dakota to meet voters. While on the road, he often stops in Murdo, about halfway between Rapid City and Sioux Falls, to visit Dave Geisler at the Pioneer Auto Museum.

“You’re here just in time to see our latest acquisition,” Geisler said recently as an odd, rumbling contraption wheezed to a halt in front of his museum. “This is the world’s first 100 mph manure spreader. It’s really the hot rod of manure spreaders.”

The acquisition offered only brief solace to Geisler, 67, a Republican with a soft spot for Daschle but loyalty to the local contender.

“This is the race I prayed would never happen,” he said. “I like both of them, they are both good for South Dakota. It’s an impossible position for me.”

He took a deep drag on a cigarette.

“Tom works awful hard,” said Geisler, who is chairman of the state’s tourism board. “He’s around, he’s visible, he knows people. I have been a friend of his forever.”

And Thune?

“I was at his wedding, his high school graduation,” Geisler said. “John is the genuine article, the all-American boy.”

There was little fence-sitting at the local diner, where 75-year-old Ron Kenyon of Sioux Falls had stopped off for pie and ice cream on his way to Wyoming.

He was unabashedly pro-Daschle, pro-union.

“I’m against gay marriage, but it’s not an issue for me,” he said. “I think this race will be close, but Daschle will win. He’s done a lot of good for the state, and I don’t know what a new guy would do.”

Jim Miller shifted uncomfortably in a seat nearby. Then he launched into an attack on what he saw as Daschle’s antigun policies.

“The biggest thing Thune is up against is he doesn’t have the clout Daschle does,” said Miller, 73, from nearby Draper.

A few blocks away, Thune’s parents were having lunch at the Murdo Senior Center.

“John has always wanted to serve and to do what’s right,” said Harold Thune, 84, a retired schoolteacher. “He told me if the hard thing is the right thing to do, he’ll do the hard thing.”

His wife, Pat, 82, smiled at the thought of her son being senator.

“With John, what you see is what you get,” she said. “Still, politics is not the most important thing in life.”