ROANOKE TIMES

                         Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: SUNDAY, January 10, 1993                   TAG: 9301120148
SECTION: VIRGINIA                    PAGE: D-1   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: WARREN FISKE STAFF WRITER
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Long


THE NRA CALLS THE SHOTS ON GUN ISSUES

Chesapeake City Councilman Arthur L. Dwyer can't forget the fear in his colleagues' voices moments before they were gaveled to order on Nov. 17.

At issue was a seemingly innocuous proposal for the Chesapeake council to join other cities in urging the General Assembly to pass a law this year limiting Virginians to one handgun purchase a month.

But the National Rifle Association in Washington decided to lay down its own law in Chesapeake. Four days before the council vote, the NRA mailed hundreds of letters to its Chesapeake members, urging them to tell the council they would not tolerate the "draconian . . . savaging of their fundamental right to keep and bear arms."

The night before the vote, council members received dozens of pro-NRA calls at home - "the majority rather threatening . . . saying, `If you vote for this, we'll see that you lose the next election,' "Dwyer recalled.

Moments before the meeting, the chamber was packed with angry NRA members. Not a single gun-control advocate was present. In a back room, council members were getting nervous.

"You had council members saying: `I had 50 calls last night, and there's no way in hell I'm voting against the NRA on this issue,' " Dwyer said. "I firmly believe most of the people on council were fearful of the NRA and that affected their votes. A lot of council members were saying: `I don't need these problems.' "

When the council finally sat down and voted, it killed the resolution, 7-2 - another victory for the NRA. Dwyer was one of the two who voted for the measure.

From the council chambers of Chesapeake to the legislative halls in Richmond to the marbled corridors of Congress, no special-interest group strikes more fear in the hearts of lawmakers.

With 2.9 million activist members and a $90 million annual operating budget, the NRA for almost 20 years has been on a search-and-destroy mission against efforts to restrict the availability of guns and ammunition.

In an age of unprecedented inner-city violence, the NRA is a big reason that, in Virginia and most other states, residents can walk into a gun store and instantly buy an arsenal of pistols, semiautomatic weapons and armor-piercing bullets. At a time when polls show that almost nine of 10 Americans favor a seven-day waiting period before gun purchases, the NRA has stiffened its resolve to defeat any such proposed law. At a time when 79 percent support a national ban NRA remains steadfastly against reform. What compels elected officials to vote against so clear a public mandate?

By applying vise-like pressure on politicians who are considering gun-control measures, the NRA has used its organized muscle to far outstrip the lobbying ability of gun-control advocates. Its direct-mail blitzes warn lawmakers of the consequences of supporting gun laws; those who stray find the NRA spending thousands of dollars to defeat them in the next election.

"It's a very simple equation," said Steve Haner, a former executive director of the General Assembly's Republican Caucus. "If you vote with the NRA, you're a friend for life. If you vote against them once, they'll get mad at you. If you vote against them twice, they're going to come after you."

Is the NRA effective?

Ask former state Sen. Moody Stallings, D-Virginia Beach, once the leading voice for gun control in the General Assembly. The NRA spent at least $3,920 to help defeat Stallings in 1991, labeling him a "hypocrite" who "has a tough time telling the truth." The organization probably spent several times more than that lobbying its own members in an effort to defeat Stallings.

"I'm a trophy for them," Stallings said. "If they could, they would have had me stuffed and mounted."

Ask former Rep. Beryl Anthony Jr., D-Ark. The NRA spent $130,000 to defeat him in a primary election last spring, paying for devastating ads that reminded voters Anthony had written 77 bad checks on the House bank. "No doubt, the NRA played a major role in my defeat," he said.

Or ask Chesapeake City Councilwoman Sherry N. Simmons. She is so concerned about the proliferation of weapons that she once sought to restrict the practice of archery in her city. But under pressure from the NRA on Nov. 17, she voted against the gun-a-month resolution.

"The lobbying effort did, unfortunately, affect me," she later said. "I changed the way I planned to vote, and I regret it. I didn't vote my conscience. It will never happen again."

Mass-mail operation

NRA representatives declined to be interviewed for this story or others in this series. A spokesman said the group, was offended by a Nov. 13 editorial in The Virginian-Pilot and The Ledger-Star calling NRA lobbyist Charles H. Cunningham's objections to Gov. Douglas Wilder's proposed gun-a-month law "simple-minded."

"We don't have anything to say," said spokesman Bill Powers. The personal attack on Chuck Cunningham is offensive."

However, a year ago, Cunningham laid out for a reporter the NRA's position on gun-control advocates.

"These are people who hate guns and hate people who own guns," he said. "When it gets down to defining issues, they have trouble."

The solution to gun violence, Cunningham said, lies not in gun control but in putting criminals in jail and teaching family values. "You can put a gun on the table and 200 years from now, it will still be there," he said. "It's only when a person with evil intent picks up a firearm that it becomes violent."

The NRA fights for guns, but its weapon is a computer. NRA data bases include the names and addresses of its 2.9 million members, as well as those of an estimated 15 million licensed hunters in the country and millions of consumers.

In all, an estimated 40 million names are in the organization's files, said John D. Acquilino, a former NRA spokesman who likens the mass-mail operation to that of magazine publisher Time-Life Inc.

"If you buy a down-filled jacket with a warranty, chances are the NRA has your name," he said. "If you subscribe to an outdoor magazine, the NRA definitely has your name."

At the press of a button, the NRA can isolate virtually any voting district in the country and fire off scores of postcards, letters and Mailgrams to alert constituents whose representatives may be considering a gun-control vote. The mailings frequently trigger dozens of irate calls to elected officials, as Chesapeake council members and state legislators can attest.

"I spent more of my time dealing with these calls than I care to remember," said former Del. Samuel Glasscock, D-Suffolk, an NRA critic who was defeated in 1991. Glasscock argues the tactics created a "degree of fear" and made it easy for some members to say, "I don't need these problems, I'm going to go along with the NRA."

Wielding political clout

The NRA claims 80,000 members in Virginia. That's an average of 2,000 in every state Senate district and 800 in every House district, though membership tends to be higher in rural areas. There are also 350,000 licensed Virginia hunters on the NRA mailing list.

"They tell me there are 800 members in my district who vote on a single issue and I don't doubt it," said state Sen. Robert Russell, R-Chesterfield, who won a close election in 1991 with the aid of $4,500 in NRA contributions plus complimentary mailings. "Any politician who doesn't respect that won't be around very long."

The NRA's clout in the General Assembly was demonstrated in 1991 when House Democrats met privately to discuss voting as a bloc for a three-day waiting period before gun purchases. Cunningham, the NRA lobbyist, sent Mailgrams that night to every NRA member and licensed hunter in Virginia represented by a Democratic delegate.

Several rural legislators who sat quietly at the meeting but opposed the waiting period were horrified to find their districts flooded with mail tying them to a secret deal for gun control.

"It angered me because I never did agree to anything," said Del. Whittington Clement, D-Danville, an NRA member who received the Mailgram at home. "I believe these tactics lose friends for them, and I told them I was sick of it."

Cunningham apologized to Clement. But unless other legislators promised to oppose the waiting period, he continued to send mail into their districts. Eventually, 21 Democrats broke ranks and voted with Republicans to defeat the measure.

Other Mailgrams allowed NRA members to stack public hearings on gun control last fall when they were held by the House Militia and Police Committee. At a raucous session in Wytheville, the 30 citizens who spoke adamantly opposed any restrictions on gun purchases. In Virginia Beach, all but two speakers opposed new laws.

"What bothers me is that people who favor restrictions never seem to turn out at these meetings," said the committee chairwoman, Del. Gladys Keating, D-Fairfax. "The word never seems to get out to them."

That's because gun-control advocates have no umbrella organization in Virginia or the nation that can match resources with the NRA. The closest rival - Handgun Control Inc. in Washington - operates on one-tenth of the NRA's budget.

"It's pretty hard to fight with an organization that can outspend our entire yearly budget fighting a single state referenda," said Susan Whitmore, a spokeswoman for the gun-control group. Another problem, she said, is that Handgun Control lacks the intensity of the NRA.

"NRA members are galvanized by a single issue while gun-control supporters are not."

Acquilino, the former NRA spokesman, describes the organization's strategy this way: "If they send out a million cards and get 5,000 people to call their senator, they've managed to tie up some switchboards."

Power of the purse

During election campaigns, the NRA reaches deep into its treasury to help friends and defeat enemies. In 1991, the organization spent at least $2.5 million to influence congressional races. During the Virginia General Assembly races in 1991, the NRA spent $137,000. And that total doesn't include direct mail it sent to members, a service which, under state law, need not be reported.

The NRA grades each state and federal incumbent's loyalty to its agenda. Non-incumbent candidates are judged on their response to a questionnaire. In the 1991 Virginia races, three legislators at the top of the NRA's hit list were defeated: Stallings, Glasscock and former state Sen. Thomas Michie, D-Charlottesville.

But an NRA endorsement did not guarantee victory. Many of the lobby's favorites lost, including Sens. Johnny Joannou, D-Portsmouth; Granger Macfarlane, D-Roanoke; and Del. Emmett Hanger, R-Bath County.

Those Virginia losses weren't the only ones the NRA has suffered in recent years, despite record spending.

In 1988, the NRA spent $6.6 million in an unsuccessful effort to legalize "Saturday night special" handguns in Maryland. It was the first defeat the group had suffered in a state referendum, and many politicians attributed the setback to voter outrage at the NRA's heavy-handed tactics.

In 1990, the NRA spent at least $61,000 in a failed effort to unseat a state legislator - New Jersey state Sen. William Gormley. His crime was breaking ranks with fellow Republicans and casting the deciding vote for a state ban on assault weapons.

"They take an issue and attempt to destroy anyone who opposes them," said Gormley, a former Marine captain who represents Atlantic City. "I have a long record and it's very public. There is no reason to judge me on a single issue. But if I have to be defined by my enemies, I am proud to have it be the NRA."

The NRA spent $201,000 last year in an unsuccessful effort to unseat Rep. Mike Synar, D-Okla. The organization, in full-page newspaper ads, not only attacked Synar's gun-control votes, but cast him as soft on pornography and unpatriotic for his vote against a law that would ban flag burning.

Synar, who won comfortably, says his constituents were offended by the NRA's tactics.

"They tried to destroy my credibility," he said. "I proved you can stand up to these . . . people and beat them."

NRA critics suggest election returns in recent years indicate the organization may be losing clout. Of 24 congressmen the NRA targeted for defeat last year, only two lost; both were tarnished by overdrafts on their House checking accounts.

Two Virginia congressmen on the NRA list - Reps. Herbert Bateman, R-Newport News; and James Moran, R-Alexandria - were re-elected easily.

Bateman, once a friend of the NRA, was targeted for supporting efforts to ban certain semiautomatic weapons and establish a national waiting period for gun purchases. His opponent, Democrat Andrew Fox, received $10,000 in NRA contributions after reversing his support for a waiting period.

Like Synar, Bateman made the NRA effort work in his favor.

"The NRA tried to make an example out of me," said Bateman, the only Republican incumbent the organization actively opposed. "In my case, they failed. Voters saw through my opponent's transparent flip-flops and to that extent, the NRA is probably weakened."

Cracks in the armor

Bateman, Synar and many other congressmen say a national waiting period for handgun purchases - the Brady Bill - is likely to become law this year. Different versions of the Brady Bill passed both houses of Congress last year, but the differences between the bills could not be resolved and the measure died before reaching President Bush. Bill Clinton has pledged to sign the bill should it reach his desk.

Despite Bush's support, the NRA declined to make an endorsement in last year's presidential race. That's because Bush - a longtime NRA member - crossed the group in 1989 by signing a bill banning the import of semiautomatic weapons.

Ronald Reagan, once a poster boy for the NRA, also has parted ways with the group. Reagan endorsed a waiting period in 1991, as has every living former president.

Even some NRA members are having trouble with the group's unswerving opposition to gun control.

George Tilghman, a retired printer from Chesapeake and a hunter who owns 23 guns, is among 300,000 NRA members to quit the group during the late 1980s, a dropoff the NRA has since reversed.

"I didn't feel comfortable with the people in charge of the NRA," he said. "They're all politicians and they don't represent the true hunters anymore."

But Elywn T. Sweet, a retired Chesapeake civil service worker and an NRA member who called council members before the gun-a-month vote, is a proud hardliner.

"There are a lot of people out there today who want to disarm the public and take away our right to bear arms," he said. "It's like a snowball; once it starts, it will never end.

"There are a lot of cases in history when people didn't have their weapons and couldn't defend themselves," Sweet said. "When Hitler came in Hungary, the Gestapo took away all the guns and the people were helpless. People who criticize the NRA don't understand that."



by Bhavesh Jinadra by CNB