Purists say Schwarzenegger is too liberal. Moderates say a conservative can't win. It's meltdown time for the Republican Party.
Sep 15, 2003 | As supporters rushed into the LAX Marriott parking lot outside the GOP state convention to hear Arnold Schwarzenegger speak on Saturday, they were greeted at the entrance by Jackie Goldberg, a feisty Democratic Assembly member from Los Angeles. With a welcoming smile, Goldberg handed out pink fliers reading "Attention Republican Delegates: Arnold Schwarzenegger is the only candidate not to have weighed in on LESBIAN and GAY issues." The flier, which highlighted arch-conservative state Sen. Tom McClintock's opposition to "gay bills," was a clever ploy to exploit the ideological divide between Republican moderates and conservatives and peel right-wing voters away from Schwarzenegger. "I do support domestic partnerships," the actor-turned-candidate had remarked on Sean Hannity's radio show last month. It was the kind of comment that helped deepen the Republican conflict inside the convention as McClintock's operatives maneuvered to blast Schwarzenegger's political career into oblivion and secure conservative control over the Republican Party in California.
McClintock's challenge loomed large in Schwarzegger's otherwise vacuous 10-minute speech. While trying to be Reaganesque, making big promises and evoking sunny memories of California's golden years, Schwarzenegger managed to sound more like James Brown singing "Please, Please, Please" than the breezily confident Reagan. He virtually begged undecided voters and his legion of young fans to show up at the polls for him. "If you're Democrats, Independents or Republicans, I need your help," he pleaded. "If you've never voted before, register. I need your help. Go out and vote. I need your help!"
As the speech ended, the pumped-up crowd of almost 2,000 swayed to Twisted Sister's obnoxious butt-rock anthem "We're Not Gonna Take It Anymore," which blared through the P.A. system three times in a row. Just whom they weren't going to take it from anymore was left unstated as the internal Republican rift over social issues widened. Beside the stage a huge banner reading "McClintock -- It's Time to Join Arnold" was unveiled while Schwarzenegger lunged into the crowd, pressing flesh until he was whisked away to deliver a plea for party unity at a luncheon later inside the hotel.
The Republican-initiated recall, which started off as a deft stroke of electoral manipulation, has now opened old wounds within the party, which is historically divided between cultural-conservative purists and moderate pragmatists who view party unity as the only means of Republican survival in overwhelmingly Democratic California. As Schwarzenegger avoids debates and policy discussion, hoping that personality alone will guide him into the governor's mansion, McClintock's well-honed message of fiscal and social conservatism has resonated with the purists. And recent polls show him closing the gap on Schwarzenegger, who has been paralyzed behind the Democratic front-runner, Lt. Gov. Cruz Bustamante, since Bustamante announced his candidacy in August. Monday's decision by the 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals to delay the election not only gives Gov. Gray Davis much-needed time to raise money and rally support against the Republicans, it is also likely to embolden McClintock while Schwarzenegger will be forced into the open and exposed to attacks on everything from his private life to his shallow understanding of public policy.
The spectacle of Schwarzenegger's well-heeled consultants left inside a fenced-off press area behind the crowd after his convention speech, delegated with the task of painting a bright picture of a darkening scenario, will probably become a common sight in days to come. When a reporter asked campaign spokesman Rob Stutzman if Schwarzenegger was scared of McClintock, Stutzman snapped: "I haven't seen Arnold scared of anybody," as if the upcoming Sept. 24 gubernatorial debate was going to be replaced with a dead-lift competition.
Meanwhile, the conservative politicians and party activists who crafted and propelled the recall milled around the periphery of the convention, conceding that they may have unleashed a storm they cannot harness. Some of those who planned the recall are desperately trying to salvage their scheme to topple Democrat Davis by convincing fellow true believers to withdraw support for McClintock before the recall backfires, ensuring the governorship stays in Democratic hands for generations while the already fractured Republican Party spirals into total disarray.
But nothing short of a complete erosion of support for McClintock will sway him to drop out according to his deputy campaign manager, John Stoos. Stoos is encouraged by a Sept. 9 Los Angeles Times poll showing McClintock surging to 18 percent, just seven points behind Schwarzenegger and 12 behind Bustamante. Peering over his shoulder toward the parking lot where Schwarzenegger's strategists were parrying questions, Stoos remarked: "They have to figure out what they're going to do with Tom [McClintock]. Arnold came into the race at 25 percent and after spending 3 to 5 million in TV ads, he's still stuck there. They're stalled."
Down in the press area, Stutzman sought to spin the Times poll's credibility by citing some numbers of his own. "We've conducted our own polls and we're leading overall," he maintained. "We're truly very comfortable and confident with our polling."
As was apparent in Schwarzenegger's speech, the support of swing voters like Latinos is essential to thrust him ahead of Bustamante. His Latino-issues specialist, Juan Botero, told me that despite the central role played in the campaign by former Gov. Pete Wilson, a Republican whom many Latinos loathe for his support of anti-immigrant legislation, he is counting on a huge groundswell of Latino support on Election Day. I asked Botero to sum up Schwarzenegger's message to Latinos. "Viva Arnold," he replied with a chuckle. After a pause, he added, "Dot-com."