A Duke victory could transform a continuing embarrassment into a crisis for the GOP. For all the pain Duke has caused the party-winning a legislative seat in 1988 and running a strong second in a U.S. Senate race last year–GOP strategists insist that he’s not the Republican reincarnation of George Wallace, the fiery voice for white racism in four presidential campaigns. Duke’s KKK credentials, old news in Louisiana, could still be a fresh enough revelation to sink him in primary campaigns elsewhere. But others fear that just as Huey Long pushed Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal leftward in the 1930s, Duke could tug the GOP farther to the right. “The racialist right has found a beachhead here,” says Tulane University historian Lawrence Powell.
Democrats argue that Duke is the inevitable product of Willie Hortonism–the GOP’s strategic exploitation of white racial fears, exemplified by George Bush’s 1988 presidential campaign. The White House and senior Republicans routinely disavow Duke–Bush said last week that he “could not possibly support” him–and had hoped that Roemer could head him off. A reformer who defeated the scandal-pocked Edwards in 1987, Roemer defected to the GOP earlier this year at the urging of national party leaders. But his aloof style, combined with local resentment of White House meddling, scuttled his chances. For now, the administration has retreated to a hands-off strategy.
Duke faces a tough but winnable race. With blacks making up 27 percent of the statewide vote, he will have to capture two of every three white ballots. Much will depend on who captures Roemer’s white-professional vote. If Edwards can’t convince Roemer supporters that he’ll continue their man’s cleanup of state government, Duke will benefit. Black turnout is the other key. Edwards, who already draws heavy urban and black support, will need a flood of black “stop Duke” sentiment. It wasn’t there in the primary.
While Duke has clearly energized a significant anti-black constituency, it’s a mistake to write off all his supporters as racists. A moribund economy and anti-incumbent anger have strengthened his hand, causing increasing numbers of Louisianans to discount his radical roots and focus on his no-tax, less-government message. “Sure, there are some [racists]. But most of them are middle- and upper-middle-class people who are just angry at a system where nothing works,” says state Rep. Quentin Dastugue, a Roemer supporter. “They see a redistribution of wealth, not from the rich to the poor but from the working class to the poor.”
Though Duke has tried to broaden his appeal, race is a key feature of his rhetoric. He says that while he supported Clarence Thomas’s nomination, he doesn’t approve of him having a white wife. “I’m not at ease with that. I have to be honest about it,” he told NEWSWEEK. Despite his blow-dried veneer, Duke can still fall back on crude racial imagery. Last week he complained that the Democrats were using free fried chicken to register young black voters.
Edwards doesn’t provide much of an alternative. His previous three terms were marked by more than a half dozen grand-jury investigations, two corruption trials (no convictions) and periodic Las Vegas gambling sprees. Even by the baroque standards of Louisiana politics, voters face a dismal option. “It’s a choice between the dark and the night,” says Dastugue. But a choice nevertheless. Powell and others believe Louisianans will reassess their flirtation with Duke’s brand of hate. The question now, with less than three weeks left, is whether that assessment will be too little, too late.
