The Lost Leader

While Democratic presidential candidates thronged to the race, Republican contenders seemed more concerned with getting out. Last week, only 22 days after Michigan's Governor George Romney bowed out of the run, Nelson Rockefeller abruptly and all but finally removed himself from contention.

"Quite frankly," declared the New York Governor to a nationwide television au dience, "I find it clear at this time that a considerable majority of the party's leaders want the candidacy of former Vice President Richard Nixon."

Rockefeller's decision to "reiterate unequivocally" his noncandidacy jolted not only his own staff, which was gearing for a vigorous campaign, but the entire American electorate. Nixonites, naturally, whooped with joy at the prospect of an unimpeded road to the nomination (see following story). McCarthyites invited Republican doubters to join their camp. The G.O.P.'s moderate wing drooped visibly. "Now we've had two ships shot out from under us," said New York's Senator Jacob Javits. Gov ernor Tom McCall of Oregon expressed "deep disappointment." In his state, Rocky backers had gathered 50,000 signatures of support in preparation for the May 28 primary, which would have been Rockefeller's most promising confrontation with Nixon. McCall had even cranked out press releases warmly praising the New Yorker for his entry into the race. Gloomed a McCall aide: "Now Ym using them for scratch paper."

The Clincher. Rockefeller's exit certainly seemed motivated as much by personal hubris as political savvy. His poor showing in the New Hampshire primary earlier this month, where only 11% of the Republican voters wrote in his name, coupled with indications of a disastrous showing in Wisconsin's April 2 contest (a possible 14-1 loss), doubtless made Rocky aware that he was not striking sparks.

The clincher came at a ham-and-eggs breakfast last week with Republican Senators in the Capitol's Vandenberg Room. Rockefeller had anticipated that 25 of the Senate's 36 Republicans might show up to offer various degrees of support for his candidacy; only 17 appeared, most of them clearly cool to a Rockefeller presidency. Only Pennsylvania's Hugh Scott, New York's Javits and Kentucky's Thruston Morton (who hoped to be Rocky's campaign manager) were openly declared Rocky supporters. What rent the Rock more than anything was the suggestion from several of his guests that he should enter the race in order to keep the Republican campaign from being overshadowed by the three-way Democratic Donnybrook.

Reverse English. G.O.P. Governors proved equally disappointing: though 18 of the 26 were privately for Rockefeller, only Maryland's Spiro T. Agnew, Rhode Island's John Chafee and Oregon's McCall would publicly commit themselves. Romney, whom Rocky had supported before New Hampshire, began to feel that Rockefeller had used him and pointedly refrained from backing the New Yorker. After Rockefeller's announcement last week, Lenore Romney, the Governor's outspoken wife, allowed that the Michigander "would have continued his campaign had he not felt that Mr. Rockefeller was going to be a candidate." It was a nice bit of reverse English in what Romney must consider a game of dirty pool.