There are many ways to run for the vice presidency, all requiring that the contender somehow be simultaneously indirect and clear. That’s especially so now, when the sole vote belongs to a deeply secretive, highly complex, superbly connected and (usually) politically cautious insider at the top of the ticket. “He doesn’t like to be pushed,” said a good friend.
Kerry’s wariness is deepened by the doppelgnger he chose to be his background “vetter” and top confidant, Jim Johnson. A former CEO of Fannie Mae, Johnson is the archetype of the tight-lipped, multitasking Washington broker. And his native Minnesotan caution was confirmed by an earlier round of veep hunting. Walter Mondale’s campaign manager in 1984, Johnson witnessed Geraldine Ferraro winning plaudits as the first woman chosen for a major ticket–and brickbats for her husband’s murky, underexamined finances. “Kerry and Johnson are two very cautious men,” said Democrat Harold Ickes, who has known them both for decades. “And they’re incredibly discreet.”
In his secretive, systematic way, Kerry is closing in on a choice. Indeed, some party insiders think he has already made it. In a conference call last week, the Massachusetts senator asked his leading financial backers to forward–sooner rather than later–intel, warnings or praise about any vice presidential possibilities. It was a pro forma exercise–“stroking the big funders,” a Kerry campaign official called it–but the kind of ritual that precedes the real deal. While nothing is written in stone, one plan calls for an announcement just after July 4. A Kerry advance team was in St. Louis last week–which some took as a sign that Rep. Dick Gephardt was The One. Kerry plans to be in Iowa on the Fourth, which others saw as an indication that Iowa Gov. Tom Vilsack had won the race. Truth is, no one outside a tiny circle of Kerry intimates knows.
Meanwhile, the contenders do their passive-aggressive best to walk, not run. Edwards has taken the unabashed outside approach, eliciting the banquet applause and public support. He leads in polls of Democratic voters and Washington insiders. Ralph Nader, of all people (a fellow trial lawyer), says Edwards would be Kerry’s best pick. And the senator put his money where Kerry’s mouth is. Within days of ending his own bid for the White House, he called together his fund-raisers and urged them to go all out for Kerry. Funders such as John Moylan of South Carolina responded. They insist there’s no quid pro quo. “But clearly it never leaves my mind that something I am doing might help get Edwards on the ticket,” Moylan said. All this jazz may hurt Edwards, not help. Kerry sees himself as someone who waited patiently in line, and thinks everyone must do likewise. “Backstage at the campaign events, Kerry behaved like Edwards belonged at the kiddie table,” recalled an insider.
While Edwards runs outside, Gephardt–like Kerry, an officeholder for three decades–works inside. Last fall they took common aim at Dr. Howard Dean. An “independent” spending group savaged Dean in a TV ad; the group had indirect management and money ties to Kerry and Gephardt. Later, Gephardt aired a TV ad attacking only one candidate, Dean, normally a no-no in a multicandidate field. The move slowed Dean–but Kerry, not Gephardt, harvested the votes. Joe Trippi, Dean’s campaign manager, wonders aloud in his new book, “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised,” whether Gephardt, seeing his own chances dwindling, joined forces with Kerry. “Gephardt’s campaign was either incredibly stupid or incredibly cynical,” Trippi told NEWSWEEK. Steve Elmendorf, Gephardt’s campaign manager, denies there was a deal. “We thought we would win if we knocked off Dean,” he says. (Elmendorf is now a top aide to Kerry.) “If it comes down to the guy Kerry feels most comfortable with, it’ll be Gephardt,” said a source. (Kerry is at ease with Florida Sen. Bob Graham, too, respectfully calling him “leader” in private.)
It’s possible to “run” inside and outside at the same time, which is what Vilsack is doing. He and his wife Christie are personally close to Kerry (she endorsed him in the caucuses). He’s had an excuse to travel nationally, as head of the Democratic Governors’ Association. His bio is his calling card: an orphan reared in what was once one of Pittsburgh’s wealthier families (they owned Iron City Beer), a prep-school kid who began his legal career working for his father-in-law’s rural Iowa firm. A polite, self-effacing sort, he’s a mix of down-home Midwest and Back East that might look good in the Electoral College. He’s a devoted Pirates and Steelers fan. “You have to see the Pittsburgh Room in the governor’s mansion,” he bragged to NEWSWEEK. Teresa Heinz Kerry, who counts the Steel City among her homes, already has.
