Trying to Win the Peace

Mondale fends off Hart and Jackson while seeking a Veep

In the parlance of campaign schedulers, this is "down time" for Walter Mondale, a chance to recover from one ordeal on the stump and gird for the next. With the Democratic nomination apparently in hand, Mondale loafed about his woodsy $200,000 house in North Oaks, Minn., swatted a tennis ball and pondered his choice of running mate. His aides, however, spent much of last week fretting about his unruly rivals. Gary Hart would not quit. Jesse Jackson was making threatening sounds. The Mondale camp's worst fear was that the pair would form an alliance that could turn the Democratic Convention into a political brawl. Having won the war, Mondale's men spent the week maneuvering on all fronts to win the peace.

On the whole, they were very successful. Over the weekend, Hart's advisers tentatively decided against pursuing a credentials challenge to some 600 Mondale delegates who Hart claims are "tainted" by support from political-action committees. Mondale also snared the endorsement of Massachusetts Senator Edward Kennedy. But the delicacy of Mondale's peacemaking task was illustrated by the machinations last week over the party platform. Of the 15 members of the drafting committee, a bare majority—eight—were Mondale supporters. They dutifully obeyed the commands of a rumpled, chain-smoking Mondale operative, Paul Tully, who hovered about the drafting table, flashing signals like a base coach. At one point, New York Senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan, a Mondale backer, strayed by voting for a Hart-proposed tax-reform measure that Moynihan had co-sponsored in the Senate. Tully, a former Yale football tackle, lumbered over from his sideline post and put his arm on the Senator's shoulder. Sheepishly, Moynihan switched his vote.

As a compromise, the Mondale camp accepted passages of Hart rhetoric about the need for economic growth, but none of his specific legislative proposals. Wherever possible, everyone was accommodated, in true Democratic fashion. When the Hart camp asked that the platform committee include the goal of tripling the number of women in Congress by 1988, several delegates demanded tripling for blacks and Hispanics. Asked another: What about Native Americans? The solution was to call for more seats for all minorities.

This methodical catering to constituencies was going on as well at Mondale's home, in a suburb of St. Paul. The former Veep began his formal search for a running mate by interviewing a black, a Southerner and a woman: Los Angeles Mayor Tom Bradley, followed by Senator Lloyd Bentsen of Texas and San Francisco Mayor Dianne Feinstein. Although most observers said his selection was unlikely, Mayor Bradley, the son of a sharecropper, touched reporters by reminding them how remarkable it was that a presidential nominee would even consider a black running mate. A female running mate (more probably Congresswoman Geraldine Ferraro of New York than Mayor Feinstein) is becoming increasingly possible. Mondale's political adviser John Reilly said a female candidacy would offer national appeal. "It cuts across geography," he noted.