On the Republican side, former Sen. Bob Dole
was running for what he said would be his last
Oval Office bid.
"I feel fit as a ... what's that word ... fiddle,"
the 81-year- old Mr. Dole told reporters. "Age
isn't important; what counts is ... what's that
word ... extremism. No, that's experience. Thank
you, Wolf."
Sen. Joe Lieberman (D-Conn.) was the top
contender on the Democratic side. According
to seasoned political observers, he was the per-
fect candidate for troubled times: conservative,

thoughtful, and a strong voice for the restora-
tion of morals. But Mr. Lieberman's proud Jew-
ishness was proving hard for some Americans
to swallow.
"It's not an issue with us," said the Rev. Peter
Ritejus, chairman of the Coalition for God and
Country. "This is a great country, open to all
traditions and faiths. It's a land of opportunity;
all he has to do is accept the divinity of Jesus
Christ, and he can be just as saved as you or
me."
In Montana, the Republican governor charged
that Mr. Lieberman was the candidate of the
New World Order.
"Lieberman's first name is Joseph, which
has six letters," he warned ominously. "And
he is in his third term. I don't have to tell true
patriots the significance of the number 666."
At a news conference in New Hampshire,
Mr. Lieberman denied reports he would rev-
olutionize the Executive Branch by creating
two Cabinets — one milchig, one fleishig.

It's fantasy, of course. But in
the reality of the summer of

1996, the campaign that already seems like old news is pro-
ceeding with no Jewish names figuring into the presidential
— or even vice presidential — calculations.
Despite tremendous advances for Jews in politics in the
last decade, there has never been a viable presidential bid by
a Jewish candidate.
Joe. Lieberman is in the Senate and is not running for any-
thing right now. When a reporter slyly tries to get him to spec-
ulate about some future presidential bid, he catches on
immediately and brushes off the question with his custom-
ary good humor. "You're leading your witness," the former
prosecutor chided.
Some politicos argue there are no more barriers keeping
Jewish politicians off the presidential track — that it's now
just a question of waiting for the right candidate.
But others believe that when push comes to shove, Chris-
tian America is unlikely to elect a Jew to the country's high-
est office.
Sen. Arlen Specter (R-Pa.) is the one man who can talk
about a Jewish presidential campaign from firsthand expe-
rience; his quest for the 1996 Republican nomination gath-
ered little support, but not for lack of effort.
"My being Jewish was an irrelevancy for most people; for
the few for whom it wasn't, you just have to face them down,"
he said in a recent interview. Wye had some real experience
with that."
The country, he said, "is as ready for a Jewish president as
it was for a Catholic president in 1960. It wasn't easy for John
Kennedy then, and it won't be easy for a Jewish candidate
now. But it's possible."
While Jews have attained a status in Ameri-
can public life that community leaders and po-
litical scientists of a generation ago never even
dreamed about, there is a gnawing sense that
this success will not be complete until mezuzot
hang from White House doorposts.
The administration of President Clinton is
swarming with Jews, including six Cabinet-lev-
el appointees; 20 years ago, two would have raised
eyebrows. And the Supreme Court now has two
Jews, breaking the unspoken one-seat limit.

JAMES D. BESSER

WASHINGTON CORRESPONDENT

AHMET GORGUN

ILLUSTRATIONS