South Boston's 9th Tries to Square 2 Traditional Democrats in 1 Race

THE PEOPLE OF SOUTH BOSTON are going to have a problem when they go to the polls tomorrow. There on the ballot in front of them will be not one but two of this Irish neighborhood's favorite political figures, and for some strange reason, they seem to be running against each other One of them is running as. God forbid an Independent instead of as a good Democrat like he always used to What is going on?

What's happening is that Joe Moakley, who's wanted to be a Congressman for an eternity, finally realized that it's not very possible to beat Louise Day Hicks in a primary. So instead of sitting out the election for the 9th Congressional District as he did for so long, waiting for John McCormack to finish up his 42-year stint in the House of Representatives, or running against Congresswoman Hicks as he did in he primary two years ago. Moakley decided to run this year as an Independent. In a district where almost everybody almost always votes Democratic for almost every office, it's an uphill fight.

So the 9th Congressional District, the home of the legendary political wheeling and dealing that has made Boston politics famous, has a race this year between two popular, Irish, Democratic vote-getters. There's also a Republican in the race, 34-year-old Alcholic Beverages Control Commission Chairman Howard M. Miller, but in Boston's ethnic, working class 9th, Republicans don't matter very much, and Hicks and Moakley are both treating Miller like a nice little boy who has somehow wandered in where the big guys are.

Congresswoman Hicks is something of a legend in her own time. She made a name for herself in the 1960s, when she became the spokesman for the white backlash movement against integrating schools. Hicks has always had her own special constituency in Boston, usually about 40 per cent of the electorate. Running in multi-candidate races, as she did to get elected to the School Committee and later the City Council, she was unbeatable, for her 40 per cent always turned out, and always voted Hicks. In two-candidate races, such as her two campaigns for the Boston Mayoralty in 1967 and 1971, she's found that her 40 per cent doesn't quite increase enough to win majorities.

Moakley has also been an extremely popular votegetter, getting a lot of support from the same groups on which Hicks has built her career--the working class ethnic whites of South Boston and Dorchester. Like Hicks, he is a traditional urban politician. But there the similarities end. Moakley is a liberal who has used his 14 years in the Massachusetts State Legislature and his year on the Boston City Council to work for a number of traditionally liberal causes. His attempts to improve public housing have won particular acclaim from Boston's poor community.

While he is far from a radical, Moakley is trying to paint himself as a populist in this-campaign. Big block letters in bright Irish Green blare his name out from the outside of his second-story campaign headquarters on Union Street at the edge of Boston's North End. His billboards say in stark black-on-white lettering "Joe Moakley vs. Louise Day Hicks" and then, in bright green. "Give 'Em Hell, Joe." He talks about tax reform, about unemployment, about giving the little guy a break. Inside, the headquarters looks like the typical underdog operation--kids are running everywhere, phones are ringing people are shouting. A seminar on campaign techniques at the Kennedy Institute of Politics has been sending students down to Moakley headquarters for some practical experience, but volunteer coordinator Tony Staffiery says he prefers high school kids. "They don't have such big egos," he explains.

THE TASK BEFORE THE MOAKLEY people is enormous: they've got to persuade people who for years have walked into a voting booth and automatically pulled the Democratic lever that (a) there are other candidates on the ballot and (b) voting for an Independent is not a mortal sin. To do this, Moakley volunteers have canvassed the district and plan to be at every poll passing out information tomorrow.

In contrast, Hicks's re-election campaign has been a bit harder to find. She has no official campaign headquarters, but merely a series of neighborhood storefronts which are only open at irregular hours. Callers to her Congressional District office at the Federal Building who ask about the campaign are instructed to leave their names and told a campaign official will call back. No, they can't give out the names of any officials, nor say where they can be reached. I called two weeks ago, and am still waiting for the return call.

Most of the Hicks campaign has been based on her traditional neighborhood coffee parties, where she visits the homes of supporters to greet the neighbors. It's an effective campaign technique, and part of the reason behind the loyalty of Hicks's followers. The Congresswoman has been stressing her performance in the House, and the bills for which she has been responsible.

Like most close Congressional races in Massachusetts this year, the ax wielded by the State Legislature's Redistricting Committee could play a crucial role. Parts of Dorchester have been moved out of the district, replaced by seven suburbs to Boston's south. This introduces a new facet to 9th District politics: Republicans. This is where Miller will get most of his support. Miller, ironically enough, is the most liberal candidate in the race, and has been attacking both Hicks and Moakley as products of the old politics who are owned by traditional political bosses.

The key to the district could be the black vote in Roxbury and the South End. Moakley should outpoll Hicks here. Indeed, the most recent poll in The Boston Globe shows Moakley leading Hicks by 41 to 32 per cent, with 11 per cent going to Miller.

At any event, it should be an interesting night tonight at the G and G delicatessen in Dorchester, the traditional election eve gathering place for Boston Democrats. The Hicks-Moakley race is tearing apart a lot of traditional political alignments in Boston, and the 9th District, Boston's ethnic showplace, might never be the same.