Wilson Takes a Political Hit on His Beliefs

SAN DIEGO — Bob Dole’s call last week, about 6:30 p.m. on Tuesday, found Gov. Pete Wilson in the underground command center where San Diego authorities were conducting a briefing on disaster plans.

“Well, Bob, let me be frank,” the governor began.

This was perhaps the highest political wire from which Wilson had ever dangled. The governor was threatening to disrupt the national convention--where he once dreamed about winning his own presidential nomination--if the party’s platform did not recognize abortion-rights supporters.

It would likely have been a political murder-suicide, Wilson acknowledged in an interview with The Times. Dole’s last chance to unify the Republican Party would probably be lost and, for many, Wilson would be forever tarred as the traitor.

“That’s right,” the governor said. “But you know, there comes a point past which you can’t be shoved.”

Today, Wilson leaves the convention having won a heightened national profile as the champion of Republican moderates. But as his aides concede, his highly controversial decision to risk the party’s White House hopes over a battle about abortion also has cast him as the symbol of dangerous division within the GOP.

Wilson’s Future

“How does history and near history treat the whole event?” wondered George Gorton, Wilson’s longtime consultant. “Only time will tell. Generally, brawling is not recommended. But then, standing tall for what you believe is.”

Wilson’s actions have triggered much speculation about his future.

Now 63, Wilson will return to Sacramento as a lame-duck governor with a need to heal some new wounds. At this point, he is undecided about whether to run for president again or do something else when he leaves the governor’s office in two years.

The governor said he’d “love to” write a syndicated column and/or do radio commentary--the same route Ronald Reagan followed to the presidency after Sacramento. “I’d like to do some writing, and I’ve always enjoyed arguing with people.” He also envisions joining a think tank.

But a 1998 Senate race, long rumored as an option, is out of the question, he said.

“I’d run if I didn’t have to serve. I’d be delighted to campaign against [Democratic Sen.] Barbara Boxer. But I don’t want the obligation [of being a senator]. It was a great privilege serving in the Senate [1983-91] and I thoroughly enjoyed it, but I have done that. . . . I’ve had enough of the legislative experience.”

The plan a year ago this month, when Wilson officially kicked off his own presidential campaign in a speech at the Statue of Liberty in New York, was to come to this convention in his home state as a figure of unity rather than division.

The campaign had a dual-track strategy before it ended barely a month later. Publicly, the governor would run a conservative campaign opposing issues such as benefits for illegal immigrants and affirmative action. At the same time, he would count on abortion-rights supporters to carry him through key states in the Northeast.

If the strategy worked, Wilson hoped to lead a coalition forged from both wings of the party, disproving the traditional wisdom that the only route to a Republican nomination is through the right.

To some extent, Wilson still feels he was a unifying force at the convention, since he negotiated a compromise that placed abortion-rights language in an appendix to the platform. The agreement cleared the way for Dole to enjoy an uninterrupted convention.

But Wilson, backed by other moderate governors such as William F. Weld of Massachusetts, also pushed the fight further than it might have gone without some high-profile help. So instead of earning gratitude, Wilson was dropped from the prime-time convention lineup--even though that is a privilege traditionally granted a host state governor.

Dole later invited Wilson to introduce a speech on Wednesday by the nominee’s wife, Elizabeth.

But the one-minute remarks were described by some top Republicans as more symbolic than a real reconciliation.

“Where the dispute comes in is when you’ve made your point,” one Dole official said. “There is a time when you say, with all respect, just let it go and move on for the sake of Bob Dole.”

Another California GOP official called the episode “a colossal error in judgment. I don’t think he ever recovers from it to run for the presidency again or anything else.”

In the interview, Wilson was not inclined to reflect on what might have been. “There’s no point in wasting time,” he said. “I know what happened.”

But the governor also suggested for the first time that he may not pursue another presidential bid.

“Who knows?” he said. “That’s too far away; in the realm of pure speculation. . . . All kinds of things can happen.”

No Goal 2000

His uncertainty about the 2000 race, Wilson indicated, was at least partly due to lingering voice problems that resulted from throat surgery last year. The chronic hoarseness was so obvious during speeches this week that he found himself apologizing to his listeners.

Wilson does not blame his failed presidential campaign on strategy and the difficulty of navigating between moderate and conservative ideologies.

This governor has mastered the art--especially recently--of acting as a political platypus, wiggling out from under the traditional labels of moderate and conservative.

In California, Wilson has been cast as a conservative for leading the efforts to cut welfare and taxes and to end affirmative action and benefits for illegal immigrants. At the same time, he has taken his place as one of the nation’s preeminent Republican moderates for risking his own political career on behalf of abortion rights.

But while Wilson’s ideological posture might appear to be a stretch for a politician, his strategists say many voters share the same views. A Times Poll last March, for example, found that 42% of California voters support abortion rights and Proposition 209’s call for an end to racial and gender-based affirmative action programs.

Long known as a cautious tactician, Wilson’s decision to challenge his party leaders surprised many longtime observers. This was a messy brawl. The political or policy impact was murky at best.

Loyalist Reputation

If Wilson were to run for president again, there are some who speculate his role might help with abortion-rights voters. But that benefit is balanced against the fact that Wilson shed his valuable reputation as a party loyalist.

“The funniest analysis I have heard is that Pete Wilson is using this to position himself for the year 2000,” said former Wilson aide Dan Schnur. “If Pete Wilson were trying to lay the groundwork for another presidential campaign, he’d be treading very lightly on this issue. Pro-choice Republicans can attract pro-life votes, but only if they are not controversial.”

Times staff writer George Skelton contributed to this story from San Diego.