EYES ON THE PRIZE

By Michael Kramer

The news didn't surprise, but the forum sure did. Bob Dole has wanted to be President almost forever--this will be his third try--and an announcement was expected soon. But not last Friday night, and certainly not on David Letterman's Late Show. But why not? Richard Nixon said ``Sock it to me'' on Laugh-In in 1968, and later appraised his cameo as ``a stroke that helped people see I wasn't just that Tricky Dick, meanspirited son-of-a-bitch.'' So Dole took a page from the Nixon playbook, and for the same reason. If he feared that he's seen as stiff and sardonic, still perceived as a hatchet man by those who recall his slash-and-burn campaign tactics as Gerald Ford's 1976 vice-presidential running mate, well, then maybe he was right to use network TV's hippest show to lighten his image.

And make it official--or informally official, as Dole put it. Though he had hinted broadly that he planned to run in an interview with David Frost aired earlier that night on PBS, Dole's more emphatic declaration on the highly rated Late Show--and his witty bantering with the host--was smart politics. ``Well, I'm going to run. For President. In '96,'' Dole said in his familiar growl. ``I thought about it a lot,'' the Senate majority leader added, ``and I think every country ought to have a President.'' The studio audience loved it. And loved it even more when Dole stumbled through a special version of the show's patented Top Ten list. ``We've cut everything 30%, so I've got a Top Seven list,'' Dole said. The subject: how to balance the budget. No. 7 suggested that Bill Clinton's speechwriters no longer be paid by the word. No. 1 was ``Arkansas? Sell it.'' Introduced by Letterman as ``an actual American hero,'' Dole astutely ended his 10-minute gig by acknowledging a friend in the audience, Frank Carafa, the former Army sergeant who had saved the future Senator's life by dragging the gravely wounded Lieut. Dole across a World War II battlefield. The emotional power was diminished only slightly by a by-product of the show's opening skit: Carafa, like the rest of the audience, was clutching a canned ham.

It was a far cry from the last time Dole began a presidential bid, in 1987, with a stark, conventional announcement from his hometown of Russell, Kansas. With 54 weeks to go before the New Hampshire primary, the Republican contest for President is lifting off quickly--and shedding its excess baggage almost as fast. Last week it was Jack Kemp's turn. The man who helped define Reaganism, the humane champion of free enterprise, decided not to run. ``Many in the party,'' he told recently, ``have moved further to the right than I feel comfortable with. What I believe in--that we should include everyone-- isn't much in fashion.''

Kemp joins Dick Cheney, the former Defense Secretary, who quit last month, and conservative idea man William Bennett, who dropped out last fall. Most handicappers calculate that former Secretary of State James Baker will also soon decide to forgo the race. ``It's the incredible shrinking field,'' says William Kristol, a top Republican strategist. ``Others could still jump in, but we probably know who the candidates are.'' Namely: Dole, Texas Senator Phil Gramm, former Tennessee Governor Lamar Alexander, former Vice President Dan Quayle, Pennsylvania Senator Arlen Specter, and possibly Indiana Senator Richard Lugar and one or two G.O.P. Governors. The wild card: Colin Powell, the former Chairman of the Joint Chiefs.

The race is forming early for several reasons besides Clinton's documented weakness. ``There's such a thing, this year, as waiting too long,'' says Jim Cicconi, a former Bush-Quayle adviser. ``Money gets committed, operatives get committed and local politicians get committed.'' The need for speed is the result of a new campaign schedule that telescopes 23 primaries into the 35 days between New Hampshire's race on Feb. 20 of next year and California's on March 26. To run in the compressed window, big bucks are vital. Serious contestants will need about $25 million by the end of this year to buy ads and pay staff.

Dole and Gramm both have strong organizations and the ability to raise money. Gramm is loaded, with $5 million left over from his Senate campaign. The conservative Texan, who used his money to organize victories in recent straw polls in Louisiana and Arizona, plans to announce his candidacy officially in two weeks. Dole, with $2 million, has opened a Washington office and begun to hire some well-known pros. Because he has run before and Republican primary voters have a history of rewarding those who persevere after earlier defeats, Dole is the front runner in every poll. There are rumblings of concern about his age (71), which may explain why he has floated the idea of pledging to serve only one term. But it's unlikely he would want to render himself a lame duck before he's inaugurated. Dan Quayle makes the top tier because of his prior service and ties to the religious right. However, the real tension so far, and probably the real contest as the battle progresses, is between Dole and Gramm.

It wasn't long ago that Dole was considered the conservative's conservative. But compared with Gramm, Dole is a flaming moderate. After World War II, he spent several years in and out of Army hospitals, recovering from combat wounds, and he believes ``government does a lot of good things.'' So his grudging enthusiasm for Newt Gingrich's anti-Washington ``Contract with America'' is hardly surprising. As for the contract's insistence that the budget can be balanced in five years even if taxes are cut and defense spending is increased, Dole has said diplomatically, ``It would be difficult.'' In recent weeks, Dole has downplayed attempts to repeal the ban on assault weapons, and he appears genuinely repelled by the pain that the contract's welfare reforms could inflict.

If such views are out of sync with Republican primary voters, Dole the candidate may find himself further hamstrung by his Senate leadership role, which he sees as demanding that he support such unpopular but necessary steps as aiding Mexico's economy. Gramm, meanwhile, is virtually the Speaker's clone, and he regularly warns that Republicans must be ``truer to our less- government philosophy than in the past.'' While Dole may be better positioned for the general election, Gramm is betting that the race for the G.O.P. nomination will represent a yearlong loyalty test to the party's right wing and that Dole is especially vulnerable on one important point. Unlike Gramm, who has never met a tax he liked, Dole has actually voted for tax increases. Indeed, he was a main backer of Reagan's 1982 hikes, the largest in history. Bush killed Dole on taxes in 1988; Gramm aims to do the same this time around.

Against such thrusts Dole offers ``leadership.'' But in 1988 the media repeatedly pressed for exactly how he would lead and didn't get anywhere. ``Lookit,'' he said in exasperation during that race, ``I'm a leader. I lead. People are looking for someone with convictions who'll make decisions.'' If ``leadership'' alone wasn't enough for voters after eight years of Reagan, it has some appeal against the feckless Clinton. But Dole has to survive an ugly primary campaign first, in which leadership may not matter at all.

As Dole and Gramm and the others scramble, they're looking over their shoulders at a retired general. At this point, Colin Powell is looming rather than running, but his shadow is huge. Powell's approval ratings (more than 80% of voters across the political spectrum) would make him a formidable G.O.P. candidate. Of course, Powell could run as an independent, which is where most political pros think he'll end up if he makes the race. For now, he appears content to finish his memoirs, command $60,000 a speech and answer questions about his future with teasers like ``You'll see me around.'' He seems to be taking some advice from a bulletin board at Colin L. Powell Elementary School in the Houston suburb of The Woodlands, which he dedicated last week with a moving speech exhorting the kids to do right, work hard and take care of one another. Underneath a time line of Powell's career, a title neatly cut from construction paper observes: SUCCESS WILL COME WITH TIME.

And yet hints of Powell's interest are emerging. He has met privately with Dole and Massachusetts Governor William Weld, and he's chatted with Ross Perot. In his secretary's office are some powell in '96 and Weld-Powell bumper stickers sent by supporters. Several draft-Powell committees claim his celebrity could permit him to enter the race late and allow him to run on the cheap without the need for much paid advertising--or the fund raising that forces others to jump now. Powell is remaining aloof, but he hasn't asked them to stop. ``He seems to have moved,'' says a Democratic strategist, ``from the denial phase to the coy phase.''

Powell is so free he could even run as a Democrat, but if it comes, a challenge to Clinton in the primaries seems more likely from other quarters. Bob Kerrey, whom Clinton beat in the 1992 Democratic primaries, stung his former rival last November when he declared the G.O.P. stampede a ``severe, sharp and obvious repudiation of the President.'' House Democratic leader Richard Gephardt upstaged Clinton's call for a middle-class tax cut by offering his own plan only two days before the President proposed his--and Gephardt rubbed it in when he said he'd take his orders ``from America's houses, not the White House.'' Even Senator Bill Bradley, a cautious moderate, piled on last week. ``I think that people are going to look at the President in the next six to nine months,'' Bradley said, ``and they're going to make an assessment as to whether they believe he can do the job.''

``It's all smoke,'' says a Clinton adviser. ``I worry about Dole, not Democrats. And what I worry most about Dole is that he might keep his mouth shut this time.'' Worry on, Dole said recently: ``I know what can do me in.'' He may--finally--but those are the very words Dole used in 1988, not long before slamming Bush as ``a qualified loser who has nothing to worry about except where he's going to go next on Air Force Two.'' If Bob Dole wants to keep his sense of humor, perhaps he should consider spending a little more time with David Letterman, canned hams and all.

--Reported by Laurence I. Barrett, Michael Duffy, Mark Thompson/Washington, J.F.O. McAllister/San Antonio and Karen Tumulty/New York

With reporting by LAURENCE I. BARRETT, MICHAEL DUFFY, MARK THOMPSON/WASHINGTON, J.F.O. MCALLISTER/SAN ANTONIO AND KAREN TUMULTY/NEW YORK