08/11/2000
The Washington Post
Copyright 2000, The Washington Post Co. All Rights Reserved

LONG BEACH, Calif., Aug. 10 -- Back in 1995, the Reform Party was founded as an alternative to the two-party system. Now, the Reform Party is a two-party system.

Today, on the first day of its presidential nominating convention, the party finds itself organized like Noah's Ark. There are two of everything--two Reform Parties holding two separate conventions led by two different party chairmen. And by Saturday, there will be two "official" Reform Party presidential candidates.

The two Reform Parties agree on only one thing: It will take a federal court to decide which one is the real Reform Party, which can be defined as the party that will get $12.6 million in federal matching funds.

This is nothing new for the Reformers. Last March, two men each claimed to be chairman of the Reform Party, and it took a federal judge to decided who was the real one. For the record, neither of those dueling chairmen is one of the two chairmen who are dueling now. It's tough to tell your Reform Party players without a scorecard. And there is no scorecard. But if one faction prints one, you can be sure the other will print a second.

Today's split was delightfully theatrical, complete with marching and chanting and physical confrontation, followed by the defeated faction singing "We Shall Overcome," which might have been reminiscent of the civil rights movement except that the singing was wildly off-key and not many Reformers know the words.

With about a thousand Reformers in town, the confrontation went like this: The old Ross Perot faction--which is now backing John Hagelin, a quantum physicist and practitioner of transcendental meditation who has previously run for president on the Natural Law Party ticket--rallied in a hotel across the street from the convention. There, they denounced the other faction--which backs Pat Buchanan, the
conservative former Nixon and Reagan aide--for stealing the nomination by various nefarious tactics.

In fact, Jim Mangia, who is the Hagelin faction's party chairman, called Buchanan the worst thing you can say about a Reformer--"a corrupt Beltway politician."

After that, Mangia grabbed a bullhorn and led his supporters across the street to the convention center for one final, doomed attempt to gain admittance to the convention controlled by the Buchanan forces. It was really just a show for the media: Mangia knew they had no chance of getting in, and they'd already rented their own space in the Long Beach Performing Arts Center next door.

Somebody gave the battle cry--"Executive Committee, forward!"--and Mangia, Hagelin and perhaps 100 supporters headed across the street, surrounded and perhaps outnumbered by reporters, photographers and TV cameras.

"We want in! We want in! We want in!" they chanted.

Outside the convention center they paused, and Hagelin, a balding baby-faced man, psyched up the troops with a short speech. "We stand for the Reform Party," he said, "and the founding principles on which it was founded."

With that, the Hagelin army stormed inside, chanting, "Reform! Reform! Reform!"

The Buchanan partisans responded with their own all-purpose chant: "Go, Pat, go! Go, Pat, go!"

The invaders surged up a stairway, surrounded by a scrum of cameramen who were so eager to record this historic moment that they nearly bulldozed a gray-haired Buchananite leaning on a cane.

At the entrance to the hall, they were stopped by a line of tables, a phalanx of Long Beach cops and two massive bouncers, each wearing a goatee and a spiffy suit.

Defeated, the Hagelin supporters warbled through a verse of "We Shall Overcome," and then Mangia led his troops back outside, while the media attempted to interview the bouncers, who remained as silent--and nearly as large--as the heads on Easter Island.

Outside, the Hagelin faction headed for its hall down the street, chanting, "Reform! Reform!" But the chanters were less exuberant in retreat than they had been during their charge, and one Buchanan supporter mocked them. "Show a little enthusiasm," he said.

This split was just the latest bizarre chapter in the strange history of the Reform Party. Born in the ill-fated 1992 and 1996 presidential campaigns of Perot, the feisty Texas billionaire, the party has attracted such political oddballs as Marxist Lenora Fulani, who ran twice for president on the leftist New Alliance Party ticket; Donald Trump, the New York real estate mogul famous for dating models; and Minnesota Gov. Jesse Ventura, the former professional wrestler who quit the party in February, proclaiming it "hopelessly dysfunctional."

By this evening, each side was ensconced in its own hall, proceeding with its own convention, each claiming to be the real Reform Party.

Over at the Buchananites' hall, Gerry Moan, who is that faction's party chairman, was wondering what to do with the time that had been allotted today for a speech by Hagelin. (Buchanan is in town, but he doesn't plan to speak until Saturday night.)

"Maybe we'll shut down early," he said, "and go party."

Does this mean, he was asked, that there will be two dull Reform Party conventions instead of one exciting one?

He rolled his eyes at the idiocy of the question. "This is the Reform Party," he said. "I'm sure we'll dream up something."