The real stars of this week's Republican proceedings inside San
Diego's graceful bayside convention center may be the 15-foot TV
screens, not the live speakers.
Two huge "video walls," as GOP planners like to call them, flank
the center's understated dais. With their faux-marble finish and
sculpted details, the "walls" look a little like artifacts from the
Temple of Dandarah. But their purpose is thoroughly modern: to
project film and video cutaways and make the convention feel like
fast-paced Olympics coverage to viewers who tune in from home.
Top officials here don't hide the fact that the 1996 GOP
convention is a tightly planned show meant as much for a TV
audience as for actual delegates. Such packaging may avoid the
drone-athons of the past, but it also raises obvious questions:
Will the networks acquiesce and broadcast the show unfiltered? And
if this is what conventions are coming to, why have them at all?
It's been decades since conventions actually picked candidates.
They aren't deliberative assemblies any more - they're pep rallies.
Is that still valuable for political parties - and good for US
"Conventions now are essentially only media events," notes
Michael Schudson, a communications professor at the University of
California at San Diego who studies political communication.
If so, the GOP leadership has done its best to make this media
event its most compelling ever. The last thing the Dole campaign
wants is a repeat of Houston '92, when a thumping Pat Buchanan
speech about a moral war for America's soul dominated media
coverage and set an intolerant tone for the fall campaign.
This time Dole leaders are planning to tightly control each
convention night's message. Each hour of proceedings will have a
theme - family opportunity or economic growth. All speeches will be
short, with noncandidates limited to 10 minutes, and meant to
reinforce the theme of the moment.
Furthermore, each hour will feature taped cutaways of average
Americans discussing the theme or filmed interviews with GOP
celebrities. The whole thing is meant to satisfy audiences far more
familiar with the timing of Jerry Seinfeld than the oratory of
William Jennings Bryan.
The convention hall itself looks less like a place to listen to
speeches than a bunting-draped talk-show set. "It's got an open
look ideal for TV," says one GOP official.
There is one hitch in all this planning: The GOP doesn't control
the airwaves. TV networks do, and they might well decide not to go
along with the Republicans' focused plans. The big three networks
are planning limited prime-time coverage each night and may opt for
political commentary from correspondents over repetition of the GOP