Nothing to Cheer

By STANLEY W. CLOUD

The voting took place amid rumors of war and recession and was preceded by a budget spectacle in Washington that made many Americans wonder if their system of government was too sclerotic to survive. Various pundits thought they detected a budding anarchic streak in the voters, a sullen, throw-the-bums-out attitude toward all incumbents, good and bad, Democrats and Republicans. Some political analysts forecast a populist revolt and called for campaign reform and mandatory term limitations to help restore the public's flagging confidence. But for all the advance drama and disquiet, when the ballots were cast and counted, the country did not seem to have changed much.

It might have been otherwise had President Bush not waited until after the election to announce that he was nearly doubling U.S. troop strength in the Persian Gulf. As it was, only a few sitting members of Congress were defeated, hardly enough to make more than a token difference in the composition of the Senate (where the Democrats picked up one seat) and the House (where they picked up eight). In fact, the most significant result involved a politician who wasn't even on the ballot. For if the election of 1990 changed nothing else, it undermined the perception that George Bush is all but immune to the normal vicissitudes of politics. Suddenly, and for the first time in his presidency, Bush seemed vulnerable.

The weakening process began when Bush abandoned his "no new taxes" pledge and deprived Republican right-wingers of their favorite issue. Then Congress rejected the deficit-reduction package negotiated by White House aides and congressional leaders. After that, the President went from bad to worse as he alternately attacked the Democrats, tried to explain his domestic policies and confronted growing doubts about the U.S. deployment in the Persian Gulf. By the time he finally signed a budget deal last week, his performance ratings in the polls had dropped 20 points.

Despite his parlous political condition, Bush continued to sound his uncertain trumpet on behalf of Republican candidates. A few gave a polite "thanks, but no thanks" to his offers of assistance, a sure sign of slippage. Vermont Representative Peter Smith even used a presidential appearance on his behalf to dissociate himself from Bush's policies. But most G.O.P. candidates stood dutifully beside their President, smiled and hoped for the best. None could accuse Bush of shirking. From May Day to Election Day, he made more than 100 stops for 63 candidates and helped raise about $80 million in campaign funds. The results were unimpressive. Struggling to put the best face on the outcome, a rather sheepish Bush insisted, "I'm told we did a little better than the norm, but that doesn't make me happy."

Presidents have historically been of minimal help to their party's candidates in off-year elections, which are nearly always dominated by local issues and local personalities. But few, if any, of Bush's predecessors worked harder to affect the outcome. Thus while he and his staff can legitimately take some credit for the G.O.P. victories, they will be unable to avoid some of the blame for the defeats. Even though the election hardly represented a Democratic landslide, the returns do not bode well for Bush. Says former Democratic National Committee Chairman Robert Strauss, who is by no means certain that his own party can regain the White House in 1992: "I think he's in deep trouble. You don't recover from the kind of wounds he's suffered in the past few months."

To prove that assessment wrong, Bush and his lieutenants last week began developing new strategies aimed at assuring his re-election. "The next two years are going to have a different feel," predicts a top White House official."We now face higher stakes than we faced in the first two years. So we'll act accordingly." In other words, the "kinder, gentler" days are over. Henceforth the White House will begin stressing the old tried-and-true campaign issues: flag-waving patriotism and firm opposition to crime, drugs, hiring quotas and taxes. Bush gave a preview of what is to come two days after last week's election. "I'm girding my loins to go into battle to beat back the tax attempts that I think are coming," he said, "because I think the American people are fed up with that."

One hallmark of the new, tougher Bush may be that he will begin reaching outside the White House for political advice from the team of savvy, experienced advisers that helped him win in 1988. Despite the respect and gratitude Bush feels for his combative and often insensitive chief of staff, John Sununu, Bush understands he will need the help of others in the politically difficult months ahead. Says one Bush intimate: "He has come to realize that Sununu is no good at message and strategy. Sununu plays to one of the President's worst tendencies, which is to think that if you concentrate on policy and do the right thing, virtue will be rewarded. Well, the press and the Democrats aren't going to see it that way." By the end of the year, White House sources predict, a Bush re-election committee will be formed, possibly under the leadership of Commerce Secretary Robert Mosbacher or businessman Fred Malek. As if to underscore how the election changed the President's outlook, Bush and Sununu late last week lunched at the White House with some of his old political allies, including former press secretary Peter Teeley and former chief of staff Craig Fuller. Afterward one participant claimed that Bush will "pay more attention to communication and politics. "

Essentially this means he will abandon most attempts at bipartisanship, except for his military buildup in the Persian Gulf. "This election," says far-right activist Richard Viguerie, "was a wake-up call for George Bush, the Wall Street wing of the Republican Party and the tax-and-spend Democrats." But a degree of bipartisanship is also necessary at home if the country is to deal with its many problems. Last week's elections demonstrated that all too many voters still believe the old fantasy of Reaganomics that taxes can be cut while government programs grow. Bush ran for the presidency on that very notion in 1988. When he agreed to higher taxes this year, he was implicitly admitting he'd been wrong. For this act of contrition, he has now paid a heavy political price. But the conclusion he seems to have drawn from the experience is precisely the wrong one. At this point, the U.S. does not need more 1988- style partisanship. It needs more leadership.

CHART: NOT AVAILABLE

CREDIT: TIME Chart by Nigel Holmes

CAPTION: BUSH'S BOX SCORE

With reporting by Michael Duffy and Dan Goodgame/Washington