Massachusetts politics often resembles a Punch and Judy show with no one pulling the strings backstage. There is always a fight going on, but, as often as not, it is among the good guys, rather than against the bad guys. No behind the-scenes manipulation runs the state, a fact evident in the present campaign.

Neither party has a coherent program or philosophy. The Republican gubernatorial candidate has expressly denied his party affiliation, with posters declaring "Vote the Man--Vote Volpe." The Democratic candidate was picked only after a long and wasteful primary battle, in which seven hopefuls competed in a long, vitriolic session of name-calling and issue digging.

Massachusetts will undoubtedly give Kennedy an overwhelming pluarality November 8. The Commonwealth Democratic politicians, therefore, have been counting on the coattails trick: almost any candidate closely associated with Kennedy, they feel, will sweep into office. This, in part, explains the frenetic nomination battle, that enlivened August and early September.

Joseph D. Ward, Secretary of State, received the formal party nomination at the annual convention, but six others challenged him in the primary Lieutenant Governor Robert Murphy, who had expected to be named, accordingly entered the race. Endicott "Chub" Peabody, an All-American before his graduation from Harvard in 1942, then appealed for the liberal Democratic vote, while State Treasurer John F. Kennedy relied on his name for nomination. An able City Councillor from Boston, Gabriel Piemonte, tried for the Italian and local vote, with oposition by Roxbury politician Alfred Magaletta. The final candidate, Francis J. Kelley, plastered MTA walls with promises of lowered taxes; he proposed state Sweepstakes as a panacea.

Much of this confusion resulted from lack of firm party direction. Governor Foster Furcolo spent the spring preparing for his hypothesized Senatorial battle against Leverett Saltonstall, and did not use his political influence effectively at the nomination convention. Memories of a 1958 split in the Democratic Party were exacerbated by the 1960 convention, memories that Furcolo did not mollify.

The Party nominated Furcolo for Senator. He was soon challenged, however, by the young upstart mayor of Springfield, Thomas J. O'Connor, who waged a vigorous, albeit inexpensive campaign. The mayor's cause was aided immensely by exposes of governmental corruption. The State Department of Public Works received its quadrennial lambasting more severely than usual. The Metropolitan District Commission was investigated by a legislative committee, whose proceedings were enlivened by one witness's reported refusal to accept a summons. The witness was an important Democratic member of the House associated with Furcolo.

The Democratic machine--if it could be called a machine--won the governorship and lost the Senate slot. Ward edged out Peabody, his only close challenger, by 28,000 votes. O'Connor stunned Furcolo with a 50,000 vote victory, in which he carried Boston. For the Republicans, Volpe and Saltonstall won uncontested nominations, and both have been waging extremely partyless campaigns.

Of all the candidates, only O'Connor has expended a tremendous amount of energy. He has attracted support from intellectuals, such as Mark DeWolfe Howe (Chairman of Citizens for O'Connor), Arthur M. Schlesinger, and Samuel H. Beer, but has not been able to raise funds approximating Saltonstall's.

While the parties are organizationally and philosophically fragmented, the Massachusetts campaigns amount to little more than petty individual battles. The Republicans have been out of power too long to have any organization, and on the other side Governor Furcole seems to have concentrated more on writing his novel than on party leadership. With the exception of the young, ambitious O'Connor, the state presents a dull picture of mediocrity.