Nation: LURCHING OFF TO A SHAKY START

IN Hubert Humphrey and Richard Nixon, the U.S. has two presidential candidates of proven competence, extraordinary experience in affairs of state and irreproachable private lives. Though neither has the particular panache or grace that commends one to a style-conscious age, each is nonetheless a man of some substance who, at least on paper, seems well qualified for the nation’s highest office. Yet both have lurched off on their campaigns with so uncertain and uninspiring a beginning that the electorate may justly wonder whether either can bring any illumination or imagination to the serious problems that face the nation.

In Humphrey’s case, the desperation of the underdog accounted for part of the poor performance. Uncertain of his flanks, overeager to please often-hostile audiences and skeptical fellow Democrats, the Vice President stumbled through a ghastly week, reviving an old concern that he may lack sufficient internal discipline for the White House. Nixon’s campaign, on the other hand, was dominated by the overcautious approach of a man determined to preserve a long lead by avoiding errors. While Humphrey reeled garrulously from one position to another, Nixon glided over issues with skillfully pleonastic evasions, often taking no stand at all. A whole generation of under-35 voters in the U.S. knows little and cares less about the old “Tricky Dick” label that Nixon has sought so hard to shed. Yet the image could well be revived if Nixon does not demonstrate that he has some guiding principles and that his positions are not entirely dictated by the latest polls of the public’s mood.

Bogging Down. Both Nixon and Humphrey are bedeviled by the third-party candidacy of George Wallace, who has read the polls every bit as carefully as they have but has gone considerably further in tailoring his campaign to suit the fears and angers of a disturbed country. Both men are apprehensive about what Wallace might do to them on election day. Yet neither has had the political courage to take on the pugnacious little Alabamian by condemning him for what he is—a demagogue who has touched a nerve with his “law and order” theme.

In his first full week of campaigning, Humphrey managed to summon up every demon that has beset him this year: his inability to focus on the essential, his failure to re-establish his independence of Lyndon Johnson, his lack of an efficient campaign organization, his troubles with the dissident Democratic left. Though not really prepared to mount a major campaign swing—Larry O’Brien had barely taken over as manager of a badly disorganized Democratic machine—Humphrey was dispatched willy-nilly to Pennsylvania, Colorado, California, Texas, Louisiana, Michigan, Delaware and New Jersey. Tired when he started, he made as many as nine speeches a day. Advance arrangements were sketchy, crowds at some major stops thin or indifferent. In Philadelphia, the sparse crowd gave a bigger hand to Comedian Joey Bishop, a home-town boy who was traveling with Humphrey, than it gave to the candidate. Hecklers turned up at most stops, toting anti-Viet Nam placards (“SHHHAME,” said one) and catcalling. Humphrey gamely quipped that “boo” means “I’m for you” in the Sioux language, “but somehow I don’t sense it that way today.”

Almost immediately he bogged down in a swamp of inconsistency and vagueness. He seemed uncertain about what to do about the present “temporary” 10% income tax surcharge. He observed that he could have “embraced” the anti-Administration Viet Nam plank offered at the convention, insisting that it was only “mildly different” from the statement that was accepted. Actually, the two versions differed considerably in tone and parted ways completely on the question of whether to stop bombing North Viet Nam immediately and unconditionally. Humphrey had to back down.

Cruelly Direct. Humphrey made his worst blunder in Philadelphia, where many another road show has bombed, when he offhandedly remarked: “I would think that negotiations or no negotiations, we could start to remove some of the American forces [from Viet Nam] in early 1969 or late 1968.” Lyndon Johnson whomped his Vice President hard. The next day, he flew down to New Orleans to deliver a lectern-pounding speech before the American Legion that completely undercut Humphrey. “No man,” declared the President, “can predict” when American troops will be brought home. It was a cruelly direct contradiction, even though the White House later denied that there was any intentional rebuke. “Occasionally,” said Press Secretary George Christian, “you are going to see what might appear to be conflict.”

Humphrey compounded his error in Houston. Dramatically waving a local newspaper that carried a story about a Marine regiment returning from Viet Nam, he insisted that the report proved his point. The Vice President had read only the first paragraph; the second reported that the movement was a routine rotation of forces rather than an actual reduction. Once again Humphrey looked silly—this time without an assist from Johnson.

Risky Course. No candidate can be completely consistent or consistently compelling, but he must at least have a favorable ratio of successes to flubs. Out of uncertainty rather than opportunism, Humphrey has switched positions all too often lately. He dithered in choosing sides over the disorders during the convention in Chicago. He talks at once about the “new day” acoming and his loyalty to Lyndon Johnson’s old days. Sometimes he seems to be edging toward a softer stand on Viet Nam, only to jerk back at a growl from Johnson. “I say things sometimes that I wish I hadn’t said,” he confessed at week’s end. “But that’s me.”

Considering the dire condition of his candidacy, some wonder why he does not break with Johnson entirely and speak only for himself and of the future. To be sure, this course invites serious problems. Humphrey is not only in basic agreement with most Johnson policies, but has announced his support so loudly and so often that an obvious break might raise further questions about his political stability and his credibility.

Eventually, Humphrey may be compelled to take that risk. As things stand, the Democratic Party is in its worst shape since 1952. Edmund Muskie, between sensible speeches to generally small crowds, has shrugged a number of times: “If we lose, I’ll still be the Democratic Senator from Maine.” A Gallup poll that was released last week reported that the public has far more confidence in the G.O.P. than in the Democrats, when it comes to the ability to cope with major problems. The split was 56% v. 44%. Four years ago, the Democrats led in a similar survey, 62% to 38%.

Fearless Fosdick. Humphrey knows that a major element in this reversal is a conservative reaction to racial tension, crime, high taxes and the anti-poverty program. “I won’t pander to it,” he declares. “We’re not going to out-Nixon Nixon, and we’re not going to out-Wallace Wallace. We’re going to say it like it is.” To blunt Nixon’s attacks on the crime issue, Humphrey argues that police and the courts must receive more material assistance in doing their jobs. He also argues that the problem is basically social, not a matter of higher conviction rates. He likens Nixon to Al Capp’s cartoon cop, Fearless Fosdick, accusing him of “playing loose with law and order.” Humphrey, in fact, seems determined to personalize the campaign as much as possible by drawing Nixon into direct combat. Last week he charged Nixon with “demagoguery,” declaring: “The country doesn’t need a wiggler and wobbler.”

In Cool Command. So far, Nixon has rejected the bait. He is consciously playing the statesman, in cool command of his passions and his party. He is aware that controversial stands would endanger one flank of support or the other. So far, he has succeeded in holding the liberal Republicans who opposed him for the nomination. He is more worried about the other flank. To prevent wholesale defections of Republicans and disgruntled Democrats to Wallace, he has, consequently, adopted a “yes, but” attitude. He is for the non-proliferation treaty, but against ratification just now—a position that could, in the end, wreck the treaty’s chances for passage. He approves of the Supreme Court’s 1954 school-desegregation decision but opposes stringent federal dictation to local school authorities to make integration work. He acknowledges repeatedly that civil order cannot be achieved without social justice but last week called Humphrey “naive” about crime. “Doubling the conviction rate in this country,” said Nixon, “would do far more to cure crime in America than quadrupling the funds for Mr. Humphrey’s war on poverty.” He is in favor of “order with progress” when he speaks in Westchester but for “law and order” when he is in Houston or Charlotte, N.C. His approach seems to be paying off. The Louis Harris Survey last week produced new evidence that Nixon has been gaining popular support because of the “law and order” issue. Similarly, a new Gallup poll released this week shows that, while the 16-point lead Nixon enjoyed over Humphrey after the G.O.P. Convention has shrunk somewhat, he still commands 43% of the nationwide vote against 31% for Humphrey and 19% for Wallace.

By using Running Mate Spiro Agnew to do most of the tough talking on the gut issue, Nixon has managed to strike an aloof stance. This tactic may well win the Republican ticket a good number of votes, but it could also inflict incalculable moral damage upon it.

Promise-‘Em-Anything. Nixon’s suggestion that crime is an illness susceptible to prompt presidential cure is misleading. So is Humphrey’s glib insistence that the Democrats have a monopoly on prosperity. Both are playing promise-’em-anything politics. It is hardly an original approach, nor one that any candidate can be expected to resist entirely. But at a moment that demands great moral authority in the nation’s leaders, something more than what either Humphrey or Nixon has so far offered seems required.

No presidential campaign ever quite achieves the ideal of a pure exercise in national enlightenment. Still, 1968’s contest thus far falls alarmingly short of the ideal. By design or sheer ineptitude, the issues of Viet Nam, urban reconstruction and racial reconciliation are being clouded rather than clarified. The times call for a high order of statesmanship; yet Nixon comes on like an artful dodger and Humphrey like an artless bungler. Whether the two can shake off those images in the seven weeks before Election Day is becoming the key question of a disappointing campaign.