If Romney had to win by selling ideas, he would be a sure loser. Even his most specific comments on domestic issues rarely go beyond platitudes. He's even more cloudy on foreign affairs.
"Governor Romney, do you favor a negative income tax?"
"Well, I think it's one one of the things we have to take a look at. I'm considering it, but I have not reached a conclusion with respect to that particular approach." Romney cannot shrug off a question. Instead, he fondles it a while, then tosses it back to the questioner.
Part of his problem is a rhetorical one. His speech is filled with heavy, meaningless phrases such as "historical relationships," "long, hard look," "broader understanding," or "great future significance." His responses usually begin with a "Well..." soon followed by a vague "and consesequently." When he anticipates the end of a rough sentence, his pace quickens and his tone of voice rises, as though he were a student, completing with relief an inadequate answer and trying to imply how simple the question was, and how clear the reply.
"George's only sin," quipped a Detroit reporter recently, "is his syntax." He can blunder horribly through sentences, as in this appraisal of the domino theory in Vietnam when the U.S. committed land troops: "Well, I think the situation is quite different today than it was then, and I think that this is obvious as a result of our having become more involved there and as a result of other nations who are involved with us today that were not involved to the same extent in that period."
His lack of knowledge on many domestic and most foreign issues magnifies his verbal ineptitude. He is not trying to be ambiguous and deceptive; he simply is uncertain and does not have enough facts to circumvent issues and still satisfy his listener. At a press conference last year, he discussed the "British blockade of Nigeria."
A brief trip to Vietnam two years ago did nothing to clarify his viewpoint, and he now plans another trip "to take a fresh look." His statements on Vietnam last year were so confusing that he now refrains from commenting, except to say that the U.S. should have taken a longer, harder look before becoming involved; that there are many aspects, including the historical and tactical ones; that he will thoroughly study the situation and voice his opinions at the proper time; that as one who has made no mistakes there, he does not have anything to defend in connection with Vietnam; that he does not have access to classified information and cannot discuss specifics; that it would be imprudent to comment because the situation could change considerably in six months.
It clearly irritates the press and Republican leaders to hear such irresolution, even though they realize that a firm stand against the bombing, for example, would open Romney to severe attacks from hawkish rivals within his Party. A Washington reporter, after a long talk with Romney, offered, "Deep down, he's really very shallow." It is now a standing joke.
But Romney's main political drawback is his self-righteousness. Any midwestern Puritan with inflexible religious convictions and a strong ego would be hard to stomach at times. Romney does not consider himself a politician and has belittled legislators who vote on party lines rather than on "what's right." Romney thinks he is right, and he needs to be right. His indecision on the major issues is more than political necessity; a fear of ever being wrong is ingrained deeply within him.
He has criticized President Johnson for political expediency. When asked for examples, he replied, "Well, as I have indicated previously, there are some perfectly obvious instances, and I don't think it is necessary for me to enumerate them, and I don't plan to do so."
When questioned about his own expediency--whether he would report his findings in Vietnam, even if they were unpopular in the U.S.--Romney was outraged. Why, the idea. He waved his finger at the questioner while rattling off a sanctimonious reply.
The Jabbing Finger
A Harvard undergraduate reporter asked Romney if a Vietnam pullout would endanger all Southeast Asia. He lectured the student for asking questions which had also been asked in off-the-record sessions. After the taped interview was over, the finger jabbed once again and Romney railed, "You took advantage of me; I don't like that one bit." Later, he indicated that the whole line of questioning bothered him. Another student, after challenging Romney on a statement at a cocktail party was taken aback by the governor's sharp reply. "The Romney finger" is well known among his Michigan opponents.
The voters, however, clearly do not mind his holiness complex; his record is progressive, and his public relations is good. Michigan's Democrats, who have controlled the state legislature since the reapportionment, have had to accept Romney and work with him. But they still do not like him.
Zoltan Ferency, his Democratic opponent last fall, sums it up well: "It's all right for George to want to be President, but I object to his using the White House as a stepping stone."