Electability rules - Virginia's Republican Party to meet June 5, 1993 to select gubernatorial candidate

National Review, April 26, 1993 by Thomas Harvey Holt

Chester, Va.

There is a sense of urgency among Virginia Republicans similar to that of the pre-Clinton national Democrats: this year's gubernatorial election is a must-win if the party is not simply to fade away. Although Ronald Reagan ran so far ahead in Virginia that he hardly needed to campaign here, a Republican last won the Virginia governorship in 1977. This year the GOP's chances are good against a very strong Democratic field - if that very urgency does not push it to forsake a winning coalition in the name of "electability."

The E word dictated the party's decision to choose its ticket by convention; party leaders wanted to avoid a repeat of 1989, when a bitter primary left the party divided in the general election. But the core "electability" debate is one between Reagan Coalitionists and the GOP Lite, who have bought the media line that gubernatorial nominee Marshall Coleman in 1989 and George Bush in 1992 lost because of abortion and other family issues. The 10,000 to 12,000 delegates (possibly a world record) expected to attend the convention on June 5 will set the party's course for this campaign and beyond.

The E word is no small concern against one of the strongest Democratic tickets in memory. Democratic gubernatorial nominee Mary Sue Terry, who in accordance with tradition recently stepped down as attorney general to campaign full-time, is running her third statewide campaign. In 1989 she outpolled her running-mate, gubernatorial candidate L. Douglas Wilder, by nearly 200,000 votes while he pulled out a 7,000-vote squeaker. Described by one GOP operative as a "good old boy in high heels," Miss Terry is a personable campaigner who comes stylistically-although not ideologically - from southern Virginia's agrarian tradition.

In the number-two slot is incumbent Lieutenant Governor Don Beyer, a reasonable sort who is not afraid to buck party dogma. For instance, he proposed a cut in state capital-gains taxes while national Democrats were using the issue to pummel Bush. Only the nominee for attorney general, northern Virginia lawyer William Dolan, is unknown to voters.

Facing this team, the Republicans can, if they choose, field a strong ticket that finally could duplicate the Reagan Coalition on fiscal, law-and-order, and family issues.

Presumptive gubernatorial nominee George Allen, a 41-year-old former congressman and state delegate, is running on a "no new taxes" platform, and his stump speech stresses "empowering the people, not the bureaucracy." But he treats the family agenda like broccoli. He discusses abortion only in a position paper available upon request (even though he generally falls in the pro-life camp), and he favors school choice only in a pilot project, although he scores points with populists for his support of locally elected school boards (a recent innovation here). His overall theme nevertheless is Reaganesque: "We need to bring back a concept known as personal responsibility."

Allen's plans for an easy ride to the convention were upset by Earle Williams, Virginia's version of Ross Perot. Williams, the retired chairman of BDM International, a defense contractor, also is running as a fiscal conservative, although he refuses to take a "no new taxes" pledge. He argues that there is little substantive difference between himself and Allen and that he is the more - brace yourself - "electable" of the two. Like Perot, he says, "I am trying to reach people who are fed up with politics as usual."

The third entrant, Delegate Clinton Miller, is not a real contender; he is in the race only to pick a fight over abortion. He wants the abortion plank removed from the party's platform "on Edmund Burke conservative" grounds that government should have nothing to say about the issue. He otherwise campaigns with his customary good humor: "One of my hopes is to return the good name of Clinton to Virginia."

Despite Miller's candidacy, the battle for the soul of the party is being waged not at the top of the ticket but in the race for lieutenant governor. Mike Farris, a constitutional lawyer who heads the Home School Legal Defense Association, made a dramatic entrance via direct mail, recruiting several thousand delegates. "I have the audacity to be a Republican who believes in the entire Republican platform," says in his stump speech. "The platform defines the mainstream of the Republican Party, and I am in the mainstream." He's an unabashed pro-lifer, and he sees that as an advantage on other issues, too: "If a person sticks on the pro-life issue despite the criticism, then he's likely to stick firm on other issues as well."

Just how many delegates Farris has depends on which campaign's straw pollsters you believe, but the numbers are substantial enough to cause all three gubernatorial hopefuls to treat him gingerly. Even Miller says he "welcomes" Farris supporters.

Bobbie Kilberg, a former Bush appointee also running for lieutenant governor, is not so kind and gentle about the Farris Factor. She decries any "social-issues litmus test." Miss Kilberg, who is strongly pro-choice, says, "If we run on ideological issues we're going to lose." She argues that the contest between herself and Farris "is the defining race of the three."