Righter than thou: in the Republican presidential race, extremism is the norm.

• Author: Nichols, John

Think rightwing talk radio is scary? Try tuning in the Republican Presidential campaign. The Republicans who would be President are spewing vitriol so poisonous that even Spiro Agnew might shudder. Inspired by Rush Limbaugh, emboldened by Republican victories in last fall's Congressional elections, and drawn by the blood of a wounded Democratic President, the Republican contenders seem to know no limit to their rightwing rhetoric.

"I don't think there's any doubt this is the most conservative Republican field of candidates you've ever seen," says Kevin Phillips, the former Nixon Administration aide who has since become one of the nation's most astute commentators on Republican politics. "What you're seeing in the 1996 race is the overwhelming dominance of the hard-core conservatives. They aren't holding back anymore."

In their speeches on the campaign trail and in their conversations with this reporter, the Republican candidates are engaging in a rhetorical jihad.

Welcome to the terror dome of Republican politics.

The leading fundraiser in the race, Texas Senator Phil Gramm, says, "We're the only nation in the world where all our poor people are fat."

Television commentator Pat Buchanan, who actually runs second in several early primary state polls, defends all-male colleges as symbols of "the real diversity in America," and tells Southern audiences that they should rebuff efforts by civil-rights groups to remove the Confederate battle flag from above their statehouses.

"To me, the Confederate flag represents valor, honor, courage, and the willingness to die for your country," says the former speechwriter for Richard Nixon and Ronald Reagan. "I think it should stay right where it is."

Frontrunner Bob Dole, once considered a sensible "Main Street Republican," now borrows pages from Dan Quayle. "Let's put the heat on the entertainment industry," he says. "Society pays a steep price when the entertainment industry poisons the minds of our young people. We must hold Hollywood accountable."

The front tier of candidates is feeling the rhetorical heat from those at the back - folks like Representative Robert Dornan. Dornan wants to be perfectly clear about his views regarding the man he hopes to challenge in the November 1996 Presidential election.

"A lot of people make out like I think Clinton's a traitor. That's not quite true," says the nine-term Republican Congressman from California, who earned the nickname "B-1 Bob" by feverishly defending Pentagon outlays for bomber projects. "I didn't call Clinton a traitor. I said he gave aid and comfort to the forces of Hanoi, and of course he did."

Does Dornan mean to suggest that Clinton was lending a hand to Ho Chi Minh?

"You bet I mean that. Clinton gave aid and comfort to Hanoi. And he was doing it at the same time Hanoi was shamelessly slaughtering better Americans than Bill Clinton could ever hope to be," Dornan replies, his face turning the same shade as his carrot-colored hair. "I don't say things wild. I say things directly, forthrightly, and historically. I did not call Clinton a traitor. I said on the House floor that, Rhodes scholarship notwithstanding, he was too dumb to understand what he was doing. That's the point: Clinton doesn't have the brains to be a traitor."

If only to prove that Dornan has no lock on the extremist rhetoric, syndicated talk-show host Alan Keyes, an assistant secretary of state under Ronald Reagan, offers this proposal for tackling misdemeanor crimes: "I think we ought to go over to Singapore and learn how to administer a civil beating."

When most of the Republican contenders showed up in Manchester, New Hampshire, recently for a huge gathering of the party's most rabid stalwarts, teeth were bared and claws were out. The Wall Street Journal called it a showcase for "tear-your-throat-out rhetoric."

There was Gramm, a former Democrat, chirping about how "everybody knows America wants...