George Bush and Bill Clinton have their nominations virtually locked, but 1992 is likely to remain a maverick’s playground. Perot’s flirtation is only one sign of the lingering unease with the mainstream choices. Buchanan and Brown will continue to lose primaries, but they have little to lose by sticking around. Matching federal funds and an underemployed campaign press will help keep them visible. Brown’s slashing attacks on what he calls Clinton’s “scandal a week” past-and key labor endorsements-will garner him plenty of attention in New York before the April 7 primary. “He’s going to cause Clinton a lot of turbulence,” says Democratic consultant Bill Carrick. Buchanan, a big loser in Michigan and Illinois, will stop his Bush-bashing ads, but still plans campaigns in North Carolina and California. A request from mentor Richard Nixon to bow out-and White House threats of a snub at the GOP convention-leave him unfazed. “They don’t have the guts to kick me out of that convention,” he says.
Both men have an eye on the future. “Protest candidates are usually similar personalities,” says Texas political consultant George Christian. “They think they have all the answers, and that they are God’s gift to the republic. That’s what drives them.” While there is interest in a third-party candidacy this fall (in a NEWSWEEK Poll, 18 percent of those responding said they would vote for Brown over Bush or Clinton), it’s a remote option for either man. Renegade campaigns now would hurt their chances in 1996.
Perot is taking a hard look at what could become the year’s ultimate anticampaign-an amalgam of populist rage and establishment megabucks. “Once we decide, we will put together the necessary organization to win,” he told NEWSWEEK. He also promised that the campaign could be his alone. “There would not be a handler anywhere within a thousand miles of me.” Perot opened the door to a draft on “Larry King Live” last month, saying he would run if volunteers collected enough signatures to get him on the ballot in all 50 states. Perot says it’s up to the people, but it’s clear this is a draft he is fanning. A 100-line phone bank with an 800 number is up and running (he says he set it up because the flood of calls to his office was unmanageable). To comply with state ballot laws that require a vice presidential running mate, he expects to pick a partner soon.
A Perot candidacy this fall might, be a powerful wild card. He could emerge as an alternative for conservatives unhappy with Bush, while his eccentric populism could also siphon conservative Democrats. The prospect has unnerved Bust operatives, who made calls to allies throughout Texas last week. Texas campaign chairman Jim Oberwetter even asked for a meeting with Dallas attorney and longtime Perot associate Tom Luce. “I came away with the clear understanding that Perot was giving this serious thought,” he said. Still, the legal and logistic obstacles to a 50-state independent campaign are huge. California requires 135,000 signatures of registered voters, gathered between April and August. Texas calls for 54,000 signatures of voters who did not participate in either party’s Super Tuesday primary.
Perot himself is the bigger impediment. Some of his views are simply over the top: he proposes taking away Congress’s constitutional right to raise taxes, making increases subject to referendums. Other ideas, like curbing social-security and Medicare entitlements (“I get along all right without mine,” he says), are already established as political deathtraps. He does have one of the great American stories to tell. He founded his computer company, Electronic Data Systems (EDS), with $1,000 in 1962 and sold it to General Motors for $2.5 billion 22 years later. The 1979 rescue of his employees from Iranian captivity is the stuff of a best seller. Other elements of his past would not play as majestically. He ran EDS like an authoritarian nation-state and alienated many Texans with hardball attempts at education reform. Perot may talk like a populist, but he is also a well-wired plutocrat accustomed to deference from presidents and board chairmen.
In that sense, he is akin to 1992’s other “outsiders.” Buchanan’s fierce economic nationalism wobbles when ads put him in the Mercedes-Benz he drives around the Beltway. Brown spent years immersed in the big-money political culture he now trashes. Perot will cause a stir if he runs, but voters may ultimately find their yearning for a true maverick unrequited.
title: “Maverick S Playground” ShowToc: true date: “2022-12-13” author: “Beverly Wilkins”
George Bush and Bill Clinton have their nominations virtually locked, but 1992 is likely to remain a maverick’s playground. Perot’s flirtation is only one sign of the lingering unease with the mainstream choices. Buchanan and Brown will continue to lose primaries, but they have little to lose by sticking around. Matching federal funds and an underemployed campaign press will help keep them visible. Brown’s slashing attacks on what he calls Clinton’s “scandal a week” past-and key labor endorsements-will garner him plenty of attention in New York before the April 7 primary. “He’s going to cause Clinton a lot of turbulence,” says Democratic consultant Bill Carrick. Buchanan, a big loser in Michigan and Illinois, will stop his Bush-bashing ads, but still plans campaigns in North Carolina and California. A request from mentor Richard Nixon to bow out-and White House threats of a snub at the GOP convention-leave him unfazed. “They don’t have the guts to kick me out of that convention,” he says.
Both men have an eye on the future. “Protest candidates are usually similar personalities,” says Texas political consultant George Christian. “They think they have all the answers, and that they are God’s gift to the republic. That’s what drives them.” While there is interest in a third-party candidacy this fall (in a NEWSWEEK Poll, 18 percent of those responding said they would vote for Brown over Bush or Clinton), it’s a remote option for either man. Renegade campaigns now would hurt their chances in 1996.
Perot is taking a hard look at what could become the year’s ultimate anticampaign-an amalgam of populist rage and establishment megabucks. “Once we decide, we will put together the necessary organization to win,” he told NEWSWEEK. He also promised that the campaign could be his alone. “There would not be a handler anywhere within a thousand miles of me.” Perot opened the door to a draft on “Larry King Live” last month, saying he would run if volunteers collected enough signatures to get him on the ballot in all 50 states. Perot says it’s up to the people, but it’s clear this is a draft he is fanning. A 100-line phone bank with an 800 number is up and running (he says he set it up because the flood of calls to his office was unmanageable). To comply with state ballot laws that require a vice presidential running mate, he expects to pick a partner soon.
A Perot candidacy this fall might, be a powerful wild card. He could emerge as an alternative for conservatives unhappy with Bush, while his eccentric populism could also siphon conservative Democrats. The prospect has unnerved Bust operatives, who made calls to allies throughout Texas last week. Texas campaign chairman Jim Oberwetter even asked for a meeting with Dallas attorney and longtime Perot associate Tom Luce. “I came away with the clear understanding that Perot was giving this serious thought,” he said. Still, the legal and logistic obstacles to a 50-state independent campaign are huge. California requires 135,000 signatures of registered voters, gathered between April and August. Texas calls for 54,000 signatures of voters who did not participate in either party’s Super Tuesday primary.
Perot himself is the bigger impediment. Some of his views are simply over the top: he proposes taking away Congress’s constitutional right to raise taxes, making increases subject to referendums. Other ideas, like curbing social-security and Medicare entitlements (“I get along all right without mine,” he says), are already established as political deathtraps. He does have one of the great American stories to tell. He founded his computer company, Electronic Data Systems (EDS), with $1,000 in 1962 and sold it to General Motors for $2.5 billion 22 years later. The 1979 rescue of his employees from Iranian captivity is the stuff of a best seller. Other elements of his past would not play as majestically. He ran EDS like an authoritarian nation-state and alienated many Texans with hardball attempts at education reform. Perot may talk like a populist, but he is also a well-wired plutocrat accustomed to deference from presidents and board chairmen.
In that sense, he is akin to 1992’s other “outsiders.” Buchanan’s fierce economic nationalism wobbles when ads put him in the Mercedes-Benz he drives around the Beltway. Brown spent years immersed in the big-money political culture he now trashes. Perot will cause a stir if he runs, but voters may ultimately find their yearning for a true maverick unrequited.
