Monday, Oct. 02, 1995
DRIPPING WITH DECENCY
By RICHARD STENGEL/ALBUQUERQUE
YOU CAN'T RATTLE DICK LUGAR BY bringing up nuclear throw weights or prewar Serbian history. But just broach the charisma issue and the presidential candidate is on the defensive. Pundits hint that Lugar is charismatically challenged, that his political persona is as flat as an Indiana cornfield, that he is, in short, too bland to be President. "Gee," Dick Lugar says, "I know that people say I'm far too low-key, even that"--and here a brief, sad smile--"I'm dull."
But in Albuquerque, New Mexico, recently, a different Dick Lugar was on display. Here was Richard Green Lugar--Eagle Scout, Rhodes Scholar, jogger, farmer, grandfather--and Republican sex symbol. When the four-term Indiana Senator strode into a cocktail party at the National Federation of Republican Women conference wearing a broad smile and a blue suit, a hundred ladies were all atwitter. A Colorado woman in sequined denim sighed, "He's such a sweetheart!" A gray-haired matron from Florida had a twinkle in her bifocals: "He's even better-looking in person than he is on TV!" A lady with a WOMEN FOR GRAMM button elbowed a woman in elephant earrings to get next to him.
Lugar downplays such tomfoolery. He's a serious man who thinks seriously about serious issues. He can't help it if he comes across as the reincarnation of the perfect 1950s TV dad--good-looking and good-humored, Father Knows Best for the 1990s. (In Indiana he is strongly supported by women 18 to 35.) At a time in the national political debate when all sides bemoan lack of civility, Lugar is civility itself. "I propose a new Republican commandment," he frequently asserts. "Thou shalt not speak ill of other Americans." And while he is philosophically conservative (he voted with Ronald Reagan more than any other Senator), Lugar, in his quiet way, offers some of the boldest proposals--indeed the single most revolutionary one--of all the Republican candidates for President.
In a stump speech to the convention that is otherwise colorless--Lugar's idea of an applause line is, "Let me say at the outset that a strong America is imperative"--he jolts his audience midway through. "I am advocating," he declares, "nothing less than the ending of all income tax, the abolishing of the Internal Revenue Service, and the substitution of a national sales tax." (He draws cheers.) Lugar wants to eliminate all personal and corporate income taxes, including estate and inheritance taxes, in favor of a 17% national sales tax on goods and services. To prevent the system from being too regressive, he would exempt certain foods and medicine and not tax the first $5,000 worth of purchases. "Every dollar you earn is yours," he says. This is greeted with scattered clapping, but when a gray-haired matron hears him peg the sales tax at 17%, she exclaims, "Lordy!"
Abolishing the IRS may sound a little like pandering, but in fact this Republican is that rare thing in politics, a stubborn truth teller, a man who votes and speaks his conscience. Consider some of his stances. Term limits? "Not a sound idea in a democracy," he says. Immigration? "Let's resist finding some new enemy of the week." Food stamps? Lugar voted against handing food stamps over to the states, saying: "A basic nutritional safety net should be available to all Americans." Affirmative action? In his speech he talks about his Lugar scholarships for black, Hispanic and Native American students. "Is that affirmative action?" he says. "You bet it is. They deserve a boost." (No cheers there.)
This Senator from an agricultural state and the head of the Agriculture Committee recommends ending price supports for farmers and trimming 30% of the agriculture budget during the next five years. "Why should taxpayers subsidize farmers when they do not subsidize small businesses, which have a failure rate hovering around 50%?" And despite voter tune-out on global issues, this former chairman of the Foreign Relations Committee harps again and again on the threat of rogue nuclear weapons around the world.
Nationwide, Lugar is favored by only 4% of Republican voters, according to a TIME/CNN poll in mid-September, but his campaign hopes his decency and trustworthiness will shine through as the primaries draw near. Only Colin Powell seems to mirror Lugar in conveying a sense that there is congruence between the man's character and his principles. But in contrast to Powell, who seems to have butterflies in the belly, Lugar has thought about running for President since he first jested about the idea when he was mayor of Indianapolis.
The question is, in a presidential campaign where two of the candidates (as well as President Clinton) have aired negative commercials six months before the first primary, can sense and civility be heard above the din? To compete, Lugar is distributing a warm-and-fuzzy video and warming up audiences with a campaign song based on the Aretha Franklin tune Respect: "R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Leader of the G.O.P." The campaign is hoping that the respect Lugar engenders will translate into votes and not just good-natured foot tapping.