Potomac Watch

WATERLOO, Iowa -- The most poignant moment in politics isn't victory, or even defeat. It's when everyone believes the cause is hopeless except the candidate, who soldiers on like one of those Japanese still fighting World War II on a desert island in the 1950s.

For several Republicans, especially Lamar Alexander and Dan Quayle, that moment is now. These men have spent years planning their campaigns, have been closer than most to the prize, but now find themselves on the edge of extinction six months before the first votes are even cast.

The agony of these premature also-rans is as good a window as any through which to interpret tomorrow's Republican straw poll here.

Their pain is all the more acute because it arrives at the hands of George W. Bush, prodigal son of the president they once served. Mr. Quayle was the 41-year-old vice president whom George W. visited to talk polls and politics. He says that it was Jeb Bush, now the Florida governor, who wanted to talk policy.

Mr. Alexander was a successful two-term governor while George W. was still indulging his now famously misspent youth. In 1996 he came within 9,700 votes of winning the New Hampshire primary and thus probably the GOP nomination. He's campaigned in 63 Iowa counties this year, on top of his 80 visits in 1995 and 1996. George W. has spent all of eight days in Iowa but he's still above 50% in the polls.

Messrs. Quayle and Alexander react to all of this in ways that reflect their distinct political natures. Mr. Quayle is the cheerful conservative, pushing his agenda while barely mentioning George W. Mr. Alexander is the skillful if somewhat desperate tactician, more critical of Mr. Bush and especially the media.

Mr. Bush arrived in the state yesterday with an entourage, an airplane full of reporters and $30 million. Mr. Quayle arrived in this blue-collar town Monday in a sedan with four aides and a press corps of three, none from television. His audience was 21, including a family of five. He drew a larger crowd at two later stops in Cedar Rapids but never broke 50.

None of this fazes the former veep, who launches into his idea-heavy stump speech. He pounds Alan Greenspan for "deflation" that's hurting farmers, touts a 30% cut in income-tax rates and talks about restoring individual choice in health care. He gives a sophisticated tour of China policy and the gold standard, too.

One irony of the Quayle campaign is that this supposed simpleton has put more ideas on the table than anyone except Steve Forbes. Yet the media won't discuss them because he is said to have no chance to win. These are the same reporters who've declared Mr. Bush the winner even though he's given only one substantive speech.

If anything frustrates Mr. Quayle, it's this campaign year's seeming indifference to ideas. It has been dominated instead by biography and the question of electability. "Perhaps it's wishful thinking, but I still think the voters of this state want to know where you stand," he all but begs one crowd.

Later, over dinner, he attributes the George W. phenomenon to "name recognition" and Republican "guilt" over having toppled his father in favor of President Scoundrel. "I'm the only one who can beat George W.," he insists, despite the media mantra that he can't.

Mr. Quayle says that John McCain is too liberal and of the "wrong generation." Steve Forbes can't ascend to the White House as his first elected office -- "he could spend $100 million and he still couldn't win." Lamar Alexander is too much like Mr. Bush, and Elizabeth Dole . . . he rolls his eyes.

But did he make a mistake in not running for governor of Indiana in 1996? "That's a fair question," Mr. Quayle confesses, opening up to a rare moment of self-doubt.

"Maybe." He pauses. "You mean the fact that there was nothing in between" his current run and his Mr. Potatohead caricature. He thinks for a couple of seconds and says, "I may have underestimated the power of that tag line -- `can't win.'"

Mr. Alexander is never one to reveal self-doubt, certainly not to a reporter. But he does express frustration that sometimes edges close to bitterness. Like Mr. Quayle, he attributes the Bush wave to GOP guilt over toppling his Dad.

But he also blames what he calls a "self-fulfilling prophesy" of money, media and polls. A candidate with a popular name can raise money, which gets him declared the front-runner by the media, which keeps him high in the polls, which helps him raise even more money while his opponents struggle for crumbs.

"Why don't we just get the sportswriters together before the baseball season and say, Steinbrenner's got the money, he's got the players, so cancel the season!" says Mr. Alexander, who can get into full rant on the subject. "This is preposterous!"

This is also sour grapes, since Mr. Alexander would love to be rolling in Mr. Bush's dough. Indeed, one irony of his current fate is that Mr. Alexander ran in 1996 on the same argument now lifting Mr. Bush -- that he was the likeliest candidate to win. His slogan then was "Know your ABCs -- Alexander Beats Clinton."

And he was probably right. But because Mr. Alexander has always stressed tactical politics over ideas, he never built a devoted political base. So he was vulnerable this time to another candidate who had a fresher claim (in money, name and charm) to electability -- Mr. Bush.

The Tennessean has a better case when he argues that the GOP shouldn't crown someone without a fight. "The Big Money people could make a mistake," he says. "We might end up in a debate with Albert Gore or Bill Bradley next year and find out we've nominated someone who's not ready to be president.

"Then we get 16 years of Clinton and Gore and eight years of Hillary after that," he riffs, to laughter and applause at a lawn party for 75 in Storm Lake.

"I mean if he were Dwight Eisenhower maybe," Mr. Alexander adds later about his front-running rival. But Mr. Bush is "a one-term governor of a state where the job is mainly ceremonial!"

Iowa has a history of surprising front-runners, so perhaps Saturday's beauty contest will give these candidates some more months to fight. Mr. Alexander admits he's probably got to finish a strong third, while Mr. Quayle insists he'll trudge on regardless, though he may have to live off nuts and berries.

Perhaps the worst outcome would be a Bush victory so large that it all but ends the primary season even before it begins. This would signal a return to the days of Mark Hanna and ward-boss politics, when the elites picked a nominee. Only Steve Forbes or Gary Bauer would fight on, dividing the conservative vote and pleasing Bushies who believe neither is electable.

And maybe pleasing Democrats, who would face a Republican in 2000 who's barely been tested, and who may -- or may not -- be ready for prime time.