Clark intrigues N.H. voters

CANDIA, N.H.

DEAN VERSUS Clark. You have the power versus a new and higher standard of leadership.

Rolled-up shirtsleeves versus sweaters.

With the rest of the presidential pack in Iowa, Wesley Clark had New Hampshire to himself. He used the time to pitch himself as experienced, disciplined, and humane, a warm and fuzzy ex-general as antidote to a hot and bothered ex-governor. It's not the easiest sell.

Whether or not he is wearing wool, Clark projects an intensity that rivals Dean's. The eyes burn dark whether he is talking about replacing George W. Bush for misleadership or stocking the shelves of a military PX with enough Pampers for military babies. But New Hampshire is still shopping and open to listening.

On Sunday night, Moore Elementary School's gym was filled with Clark devotees and some truly undecided primary voters. Clark arrived 25 minutes late, just when toe-tapping to a medley of music including "Chattanooga Choo Choo" and "Strangers in the Night" wore thin as a way to stay warm or patient.

Garbed in forest green knit instead of the argyle sweater maligned that day in print by New York Times columnist Maureen Dowd, Clark plunged directly into his campaign platform: patriotism, faith, family, and bringing people together. (The argyle was returned in disgrace to its rightful owner, Clark's brother-in-law and travel companion, Gene Caulfield, who protests it got a bad rap: "I like that sweater," he said while waiting for Clark to extricate himself from a circle of admirers.)

Clark was born just four years earlier than Dean (1944 vs. 1948), but the touchstones of his life convey a deeper sense of early purpose and maturity. Clark talks about patriotism from the perspective of a young boy hearing about the Russians launching Sputnik and worrying about America losing the space race. Civil rights is discussed in the context of desegregating the schools of Little Rock, Ark., where he grew up. He tries to frame his lifetime of military service in a family-friendly context.

As commander of a base, "you just can't give orders," he says. "You deal with problems. You try to make people happy."

Indeed, on this night he talked little about war and more about issues civilians don't associate with military life -- domestic violence, schools, health clinics, fixing potholes, and, as mentioned earlier, stocking Pampers.

Even though Clark says, "I'm not running to bash George W. Bush, I'm running to replace him," he bashes Bush with relish. Referencing a new book by former Secretary of the Treasury Paul O'Neill and one of its key allegations -- that Bush planned to launch war on Iraq prior to the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks on the United States -- Clark told the crowd that "President Bush misled us into war" by leading Americans to conclude there was a link between Saddam Hussein and Al Qaeda.

Later in his remarks he said of Bush: "He was lying. He wasn't telling the truth. He didn't tell us the whole truth."

Despite this criticism of Bush on the campaign trail, recent press reports indicate that less than a year before he entered the race for the Democratic nomination, Clark, too, said that he believed there was a connection between the Iraqi government and Al Qaeda terrorists.

Asked to compare himself with Dean, Clark said: "I'm the only one who ever pitched in a major league game, and I can throw a 95 mile per hour fastball."

Clark's experience clearly intrigues some voters. But Dean still has a way with their hearts. On Friday, 900 supporters packed the Music Hall in frigid Portsmouth. A lively band warmed up the crowd up with music that made you want to dance, not merely tap your toes.

Janet Tucker, 67, of Exeter came to Portsmouth newly torn, she said, between Clark and Dean. She went to hear Clark and was impressed by his "calm intelligence and intelligent calm." At the same time, she likes Dean's "energy, his willingness to go out on a limb . . . I like the fact that he doesn't apologize. . . . I love the way he rolls his shirtsleeves up."

Her conflict between the two opponents was short-lived. Dean wasn't far into his stump speech when Tucker murmured, "I may not be undecided after all. He's got energy, stamina, drive."

"You have the power," proclaimed the former Vermont governor, looking relaxed and engaged, repeating the so far magical mantra of his campaign, with his shirtsleeves rolled up.

Back in Candia, the sweater-clad former general says he wants to bring about "a new and higher standard of leadership for America." He is offering a different choice. Is the next election about him -- or about them?

Joan Vennochi's e-mail address is vennochi@globe.com.