Jackson's Puzzling Quest

Despite some words of reason, he remains the wildest card

What does Jesse Jackson want? The question gnaws at the Democrats as they try to fathom the preacher-politician's shifting moods, sometimes contradictory rhetoric and flamboyant gestures--like his trip this week to Cuba and Central America. Interpreting Jackson has become a kind of political pastime, as compelling and mysterious as predicting the next move by the Politburo.

What Jackson most clearly says he wants he cannot have. If the Democratic Party gave him the additional 400-odd delegates he demands to match his share of the popular vote in the primaries, it would eliminate Mondale's narrow majority and throw the convention into chaos. An ad hoc congressional committee set up by House Speaker Tip O'Neill toyed briefly with ideas such as adding nonvoting Jackson delegates to the convention and changing the rules so that Mondale could win with a simple plurality. Both proposals were rejected, and the committee instead promised to press for reform of the party rules in 1988. Said Jackson: "Justice delayed is justice denied."

At the same time, however, Jackson gave the Democrats credit for "earnestly grappling" with his grievances against party rules, including the "threshold requirement" that a candidate must win 20% of the primary vote in a district to win any delegates. This week the rules committee of the convention will take up the issue. "If we do not get an acceptable remedy from one of these commissions," said Jackson, trying to sound reasonable, "then we'll simply let the matter go before the convention floor and let the nation observe it and the convention decide it." His campaign chairman, Richard Hatcher, told TIME Correspondent Jack White that he would rather see Reagan re-elected than "take one more day of disrespect from this party." Jackson, however, has promised to support the Democratic nominee. Said he: "Both Mondale and Hart are men I respect very much."

Many Democrats began to breathe easily again, but relief is premature. True, Jackson is unlikely to sit out the election this fall, if for no other reason than that he wants to register voters to elect black officials at the state and local level. But the essential issue remains unresolved: how to give Jackson the respect he so avidly seeks and thinks he deserves. Jackson tends to equate his cause with that of blacks in general. He says he wants respect not only for himself but "for what I represent." He believes that a snub to him is a snub to blacks everywhere. Thus he was doubly indignant last week when Mondale ignored his call for a "summit" meeting of the candidates to hash out their differences.

Such a grandiose sense of self prevents Jackson from taking the first step toward conciliation. It would seem too much like groveling. In Jackson's view, blacks have too long played "surrogate, patronage or client politics." Now, he says, he is challenging Mondale and the party to treat them as equals. He is unsympathetic to the argument that Mondale cannot afford to reach out to Jackson for fear of putting off other constituencies.

Not content with his role as black champion at home, Jackson has embarked on a new career as crusader for world peace. Arriving in Panama last Saturday to start a six-day tour of Latin America, he sharply denounced U.S. policy for "taking sides instead of helping to reconcile the conflict" in the area. His itinerary called for visits to consult with President Jose Napoleon Duarte of El Salvador and the Marxist leaders of Cuba and Nicaragua. As always, Jackson bubbled with plans: he proposed a NATO-style regional alliance, including Cuba and Nicaragua, to cope with problems of poverty and oppression and said he would ask Fidel Castro to release 21 political prisoners held in Cuban jails. Democrats at home can only hope he shows the same desire for peace at the convention.