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Can't kiss off Kerry / He's a hardscrabble campaigner who woos blue-collar voters and fights for life when behind

Published 4:00 am, Sunday, April 4, 2004
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In chauffeuring President Bush's $200 million re-election machine, Karl Rove faces distractions foreign and domestic. He is in danger of joining the long line of those who have underestimated John Forbes Kerry.

I've got sore feet from marching in that parade myself. I've known the Massachusetts senator for more than 30 years. Flip-flopper? Opportunist? I thought so. An elitist out of touch with ordinary folk? That was my assumption, which voters demolished. As a Boston Globe reporter and editor, I've been flummoxed when he showed more intelligence and toughness than I thought he had.

For several years, Californians have asked, "What do you think about John Kerry?" My response: "Compared to whom?" The question has become easier to answer. Kerry has a habit of starting slowly, falling behind (as he did against Howard Dean last year), then coming back, connecting with voters and winning elections. The Bush campaign's current arguments are so lame that next year Karl Rove may list on his W-2 form "former genius."

The Bush campaign longs for a McGovern-Mondale-Dukakis rerun, hoping the Democratic foe is weak or passive. Kerry has made mistakes and has yet to articulate what his priorities as president would be, but like another Massachusetts liberal with the initials JFK, war and combat are not metaphors to him. He is strong and aggressive. Moreover, he's been hassled by experts at it.

One of the first people to ask me about Kerry was Rove's spiritual ancestor, Charles Wendell Colson, White House counsel in 1971. "Pretty impressive performance," Chuck told me after Kerry testified before a Senate committee. But to his boss, President Richard Nixon, as revealed on tape years later, Colson said, "This fellow Kerry that they had on last week. ... He turns out to be really quite a phony." Kerry, Colson told Nixon, "was in Vietnam a total of four months," without saying that it was the veteran's second tour. Nor did Colson mention Kerry's three Purple Hearts, Silver Star and Bronze Star, telling Nixon, "He's politically ambitious and just looking for an issue."

Such misinformation has followed Kerry ever since. One story often told is that at the end of one march, he threw medals over the fence, but they weren't his own. He didn't say they were. Another veteran had asked him to do it. Kerry threw his own ribbons over the fence near the Capitol but hadn't brought his medals.

Critics called him phony because they were reluctant to confront the testimony he offered on behalf of Vietnam Veterans Against the War. "In our opinion and from our experience, there is nothing in South Vietnam which could happen that realistically threatens the United States of America," the 27- year-old former Navy officer told the Senate Foreign Relations Committee on April 23, 1971. Calling U.S. policy "the height of criminal hypocrisy," he asked, "How do you ask a man to be the last man to die in Vietnam? How do you ask a man to be the last man to die for a mistake?"

Having covered every anti-war march since 1965, I had heard much eloquence and was less impressed than my colleague, Tom Oliphant, whom I urged to pursue the Kerry story further. Tom was right and I was wrong.

In Massachusetts, Kerry went house hunting, shopping for a congressional district to live in and run from. He was called ambitious and an opportunist. What politician isn't? He lost a race for Congress in 1972 to Paul Cronin, a Republican ambitious and opportunistic enough to be a favorite of Chuck Colson.

Kerry graduated from Boston College Law School in 1976 and became a prosecutor in Middlesex County, where he won high marks for zeal in the courtroom. In 1982, when he ran for lieutenant governor, I was no longer Washington bureau chief but editorial page editor for the Boston Globe.

Kerry sought the Globe's endorsement but didn't get it. We favored Evelyn Murphy, an environmentalist who had served in the Cabinet of Massachusetts Gov. Michael Dukakis. In that crowded primary, Kerry won with 29 percent, finishing 40,000 votes ahead of Murphy. Kerry the politician, while shaking your hand, looked over your shoulder for someone more influential. He did not defer to opinion-makers in academe or the media but did well with voters.

In 40 years of covering politics, I've disregarded exit polls in favor of actual voting results. In that primary, I noted that Kerry lost much of liberal suburbia while carrying blue-collar cities like Boston, Worcester and Lowell. Must be a fluke, I figured. In 1984, when Paul Tsongas announced his retirement from the U.S. Senate, Kerry ran, again not as the establishment's choice. On a snowy day in 1984, I was stuck at Boston's Logan International Airport, waiting for a flight to Washington, D.C. My fellow passenger, U.S. Rep. Joseph D. Early of Worcester, was boosting his colleague, Rep. James M. Shannon of Lawrence, whose Senate candidacy was backed by House Speaker Tip O'Neill. As editorial page editor of the Globe, I assured Joe I shared his enthusiasm.

"Marty, this kid has national potential," Early said. I asked. "Joe, can Jim beat John Kerry in Worcester?" Joe's response: "No problem!"

A Sept. 7 editorial endorsed Shannon, conceding that Kerry, "who showed bravery in Vietnam, showed bravery again when he helped lead fellow veterans against the war." The editorial also said, "Effective representation in the Senate requires more than oratory, where an ambitious speechmaker is often ineffective."

The voters rejected the Globe's advice. Kerry won Worcester and many other places. So, for Thursday's paper, I did what many have done since: explained why they underestimated John Kerry. An editorial, flavored with crow and humble pie, praised Kerry, "whom we congratulate for his eloquent 'outsider' victory against a candidate endorsed by most politicians, unions and newspapers. On the Democratic side of the ballot, the most striking outcome was the shrinking importance of the 'liberal' vote. Kerry triumphed ... by winning conservative, blue-collar cities -- Boston, Brockton, Chelsea, Everett, Malden, Quincy, Revere. ... If the Democratic primary had been a liberal referendum, Shannon would have done better. He carried Brookline and Newton while Kerry won Fitchburg and Worcester. In Boston, Shannon won the Back Bay and the South End; Kerry carried Dorchester and South Boston."

"Reagan Democrats" were at their zenith in 1984, helping Ronald Reagan win 49 states, including Massachusetts. Ray Shamie, an amiable businessman who had once flirted with the John Birch Society, was Kerry's opponent. By November, in the Globe's esteem, the tall guy grew taller: "He would make a worthy successor to Sen. Paul Tsongas because he shares the open-mindedness, common sense and dedication which Tsongas brought to his too-short Senate career." We also "waved the bloody shirt," as they said in post-Civil War politics: "If elected, Kerry would be the only Democrat in the Senate to have served in Vietnam. That credential would be vital in a Senate debate over the wisdom of sending troops to Nicaragua. A Bronze Star, a Silver Star and three Purple Hearts are not necessary equipment to deal with the issues of war and peace, but they are not abstractions easily dismissed."

In the Senate, Shamie would vote with Jesse Helms, the Globe said, but Kerry "would likely line up with Bill Bradley, Christopher Dodd, Daniel Patrick Moynihan and Gary Hart. ... For an articulate, clear voice in the Senate and for courageous leadership in shaping the future of America, the Boston Globe endorses John F. Kerry for senator."

That's what the editorial said because editorials are about choices. During that campaign, David Rogers of the Wall Street Journal insisted on taking his old bureau chief to lunch at Locke-Ober Cafe, where I told him the Senate race was "between a looney-tune and an empty suit." But while Walter F. Mondale lost Massachusetts with 48.4 percent, Kerry won with 55.1 percent, running 10 points ahead of the Democratic presidential nominee in blue-collar communities like Fall River, New Bedford, Taunton, Worcester, Brockton and Saugus.

The loyalty of working-class Democrats to Kerry persists. In the presidential primary of 2004, Kerry's highest totals were in Fall River (87.9 percent) and New Bedford (86.2 percent).

In the Senate, Kerry filled out the empty suit and fulfilled his promise, using his prosecutorial skills against Reagan-era zanies. But for 20 years, he has lived in the imposing shadow of Edward M. Kennedy, one of the most durable, diligent and effective senators ever to sit in that body. From Kennedy, Kerry has learned the uses of adversity, becoming a better politician and a better guy. A failed marriage and two tough re-election campaigns humanized him. Like President Bush, he went to an elite prep school and to Yale, but in 2003, he entered a less exclusive society when his prostate cancer was diagnosed, and he joined what one doctor calls "the world's largest men's club."

In 1995, he married Teresa Heinz, an heiress. Since she owns several vacation homes, some Bush operatives think "lifestyle" could be an issue. But the Bush campaign will be unable to reconstruct a humble log cabin for the president. Both men are rich, so let's make the contest a yacht race between Nantucket and Kennebunkport! We'd get new cliches. We'd swap the race-track front-runners and dark horses for tacking to starboard and the sending all flags flying.

Bush is supposedly more likeable than Kerry. That's what many in Massachusetts thought about Gov. William F. Weld, who won re-election in 1994, then took on Kerry for the Senate in 1996. Weld was an affable and intelligent right-winger who switched sides to support abortion rights, easily charming many Massachusetts liberals.

Weld was ahead because pundits and academics value likability, while many voters prefer the tougher guy. During seven televised debates, Kerry came back, reminding voters why the governor was a Republican. Weld didn't lose his likability, but lost the election. The same thing could happen to George W. Bush.

The last extended conversation I had with Kerry was in 2001, over breakfast at the Fairmont Hotel. After three decades, he had endured and matured. His authenticity was vivid, Chuck Colson's charges notwithstanding. His charm was without calculation, and his most beguiling trait was intellectual curiosity, another trait he shares with another JFK. As our conversation ranged from the Alaska wilderness to the role of Frederick Law Olmsted in the Boston parks system, the thought struck me that while the last seven presidents have talked about "energy independence," Kerry understands it.

Kerry's self-confidence and intellect blend with his toughness, as Bush may discover. The president may win in November, but he'll know he's been in a fight.