Ted Kennedy's War Against the White House

Days on the Trail: Choices

What's left to say at this stage in the game? Is Chappa-quiddick worse than Carter? Is the man who did not go to the police for ten hours worse than the man who played politics with the hostages for over 200 days? Is the man who says "I didn't lie" worse than the man who said "I'll never lie to you"? Is the millionaire from Massachusetts whose wife moved out of the house worse than a couple of Baptist bullshit artists from Georgia? Is the man who says "We are the party of hope not despair, of reconciliation not division, of progress not reaction, the last best hope of mankind" worse than the man who said in his State of the Union address on January 19th, 1978, "Government cannot eliminate poverty, or provide a bountiful economy, or reduce inflation, or save our cities, or cure illiteracy, or provide energy"?

Nine months ago it seemed simple. If only Ted Kennedy could be persuaded to run, he would sweep Jimmy Carter from the White House and refresh America. He was persuaded, and within a month it was almost over. Roger Mudd, Chappaquiddick, questions of content, questions of character, a stumbling campaign.

By May, with Kennedy far behind, the options were seeping away. The best one could say, and Kennedy's political friends were saying it, was that a vote for the senator might keep the convention from nominating the president and thus save all from the nightmare of choosing between Jimmy Carter and Ronald Reagan. The best hope has been that Kennedy's candidacy, still in motion, more admirable in adversity, could conceivably hold open the convention for a last stand against Carter and his policies.

Who is Kennedy, what is his constituency? The answer seemed so obvious last year. He was a man with what pollsters call one of the highest name-recognition factors in the country. He was the heir to the new frontier, to the liberal tradition, to the New Deal. He was the symbol of hope to labor, to minorities, to progressives.

In one disastrous month after his formal declaration, his identity and constituency disintegrated. The rhetoric was hollow and the support fickle. The issue became not Carter but Kennedy, and doubts about his political performance and intentions devolved upon the central mystery of Chappaquiddick. Revenge upon Kennedy came with bleak ferocity in Iowa, in New Hampshire, in Illinois.