In from the cold

A mystery candidate's foreign baggage. Plus: Raybo's abortion history, Margie's money, O'Connor's about-face, and Weld's fiction.

Talking Politics by Michael Crowley

As Boston's political community buzzes itself into a frenzy over the forming field for the Eighth District congressional seat now held by Representative Joe Kennedy (D-Brighton), one contender remains largely a mystery. He is Peter Galbraith, a former US ambassador to Croatia and son of the legendary economist John Kenneth Galbraith.

It's been a month since Galbraith ended his brief tenure as a senior official at the US Agency for International Development to leap into the race for the soon-to-be-vacated House seat. Although he's still pondering whether to run, his campaign is already gathering steam -- Galbraith has been working on his people politics through meet-and-greets at area supermarkets. And he's gotten his money machine rolling, with fundraising receptions like the one thrown by some Washington friends down in the capital last Sunday.

With his record and style still unknown, nobody's yet sure what impact Galbraith will have on a campaign that includes more than a dozen serious contenders. But the Cambridge-bred diplomat must have been thrilled with what you might call his initial public offering: a fawning April 10 column penned by the Boston Globe's David Nyhan.

"This is not your typical Massachusetts congressional candidacy," Nyhan declared, hailing Galbraith as "the Indiana Jones of the field" and "definitely not the same-old same-old."

Perhaps it's understandable that a jaded Nyhan would get excited about a guy who, in his words, has been "helicoptering around the Balkans" -- he does stand out from the roster of usual local suspects lining up for Kennedy's seat. But in hailing this new phenom, Nyhan left out some key details in the complex story of a highly controversial man.

In 14 years as a senior staffer on the Senate Foreign Relations Committee and five years in Croatia, Galbraith established a reputation as a headstrong, ambitious, and highly capable foreign-policy maverick. In particular, he was known for strong human-rights advocacy: Pakistani prime minister Benazir Bhutto has said that Galbraith's criticism of her country's government helped win her 1984 release from prison, and Galbraith was among the first to spotlight the persecution of the Iraqi Kurds and Saddam Hussein's use of chemical weapons against them.

But Galbraith returned from his five years in Croatia with something of a limp, as indicated by the New York Times headline marking the end of his tenure last December: A DESPISED US ENVOY STANDS PROUD.

Whereas Nyhan praised Galbraith for "kicking diplomatic butt to head off more war crimes [and] bringing miscreants to the bar of justice," the Times' Christopher Hedges wrote that many human-rights officials "argue that his close relationship with [Croatian] President [Franjo] Tudjman . . . blinded him to the pernicious nature of Mr. Tudjman's nationalist government until it was too late" -- that is, until after Tudjman's government had driven some 500,00 ethnic Serbs from the country. Galbraith did eventually harden his stance -- even riding on a tractor in a 1995 Croatian Serb convoy, an act that led Tudjman to denounce him as a "tractor diplomat" and to cut off security escorts for Galbraith's car -- but to some it was a little late.

Galbraith vehemently denies this charge. "It's clear that I was sharply critical of Croatia and the government's policy," he says. "You'll find that I was far more outspoken on this issue than anyone in the US government."

Galbraith was also tainted by his alleged role in an arms-smuggling scheme that his harshest congressional critics say recalls the covert operations of the Iran-contra scandal. The charge, which a round of congressional hearings never clearly resolved, is that in 1994 Galbraith won administration approval for the smuggling of Iranian arms to Bosnia through Croatia -- in violation of a United Nations embargo and without the CIA's knowledge.

This, too, Galbraith calls "balderdash." He doesn't deny backing a policy that violated a UN resolution, but he argues that "the arms embargo was immoral" and that "we did not impose on ourselves an obligation to enforce that resolution when the others were not being enforced."

Animus and controversy are apparently the norm for this product of Harvard, Oxford, and Georgetown. His critics derisively refer to him as "a loose cannon" and "a freelancer." In a May 1996 article, the Washington Post noted Galbraith's "almost uncanny ability to make enemies."

And on April 15, less than a week after Galbraith tipped Nyhan off to his candidacy, Washington Post columnist Al Kamen offered this stinging assessment: "Senate Foreign Relations Committee aides who served with [Galbraith] for years and colleagues at Foggy Bottom were stunned at the news that Galbraith, who struck them as arrogant and pompous even in that crowd, would be out kissing babies, pressing the flesh, and knocking on doors for votes." (While he was sideswiping Galbraith, Kamen also couldn't resist keying Nyhan's car -- describing the columnist as "highly regarded despite his prediction that former Tennessee governor Lamar Alexander would win the New Hampshire primary in 1996.")

To such personal jibes, Galbraith simply says: "It is true that when you actually do something in government, you generate controversy and you have critics. That's the price."

Peter Galbraith's impressive human-rights achievements, his family wealth and prestige, and his unique résumé may yet make him a first-tier contender for Joe Kennedy's seat. But opposing candidates bracing for the arrival of the superhero they read about in David Nyhan's column can exhale and take comfort in the fact that, like any world traveler, Galbraith carries with him a hefty load of baggage.

Flynn vs. choice

The dramatic, somewhat desperate campaign switch made by former Boston mayor Ray Flynn last week may slightly prolong the ignominious final act of his political career. But no amount of theatrics or podium-pounding on behalf of the disenfranchised, however earnest, can allow Flynn to compensate for his politically crippling pro-life philosophy.

And though Flynn's anti-abortion position played little role in his tenure as Boston mayor or US ambassador to the Vatican, his new run for Congress is a strong reminder of his most memorable achievement from his last stint as a legislator: the Doyle-Flynn amendment.

As a state representative in the 1970s, Flynn and then-state representative Charlie Doyle cosponsored legislation that would have blocked the use of state Medicaid dollars to fund abortions for low-income women. In 1979 the law passed over the veto of then-governor Michael Dukakis, but it was ruled unconstitutional by the Supreme Judicial Court.

The lesson? Flynn is not just personally opposed to abortion: given the chance, he will actively fight against it. And in a Congress that is already working to roll back abortion rights, that's no minor detail.

Margie's money machine

New evidence that irrepressible former state representative and talk-radio host Marjorie Clapprood is the woman to beat in the Eighth District race: Clapprood's campaign, already trumpeting its $150,000 bank account, is now boasting an impressive roster of Boston-area heavies who have agreed to hold fundraisers or otherwise help her corral donations.

The list includes Reebok chairman Paul Fireman; sports-marketing honcho Larry Moulter; William Cunningham, a top fundraiser for Senator John Kerry (D-Massachusetts); Robert Platt, former finance chairman for Joe Kennedy; Myra Kraft, wife of New England Patriots owner Bob Kraft; and those two annoyingly ubiquitous guys from Jordan's Furniture.

Kennedy's March retirement announcement gave the contenders for his seat just six months before the September Democratic primary to organize their campaigns and run advertisements. That, unfortunately, means money won't just talk in this race -- it'll shout. And so far, Clapprood's been making plenty of noise.

That was then. . .

"No, I'm not interested. I was interested in Congress before my wife talked some serious sense into me about what I'm supposed to be doing with my life and where I'm more effective. . . I like a lot of the people in politics and most of them are honorable, but the system is set up in such a way that it forces politicians to go to the very rich special interests that they're supposed to be protecting the public from, and the system corrupts every one of them. . . . No, I don't plan to run for office."

Those were the words of millionaire Cambridge environmentalist-businessman John O'Connor in November of last year, dismissing criticism that his high-profile drive to block a massive deregulation of the state's electric utility companies was partly motivated by personal ambition. Since then, Kennedy's seat has opened up, and O'Connor plans to kick off a run for it on May 30.

Weld vs. facts

Somewhere between the completion of his first novel -- the soon-to-be-published Mackerel by Moonlight -- and his nascent second work, former governor Bill Weld has found time to type up a fundraising letter for Brad Bailey, Republican candidate for attorney general.

But just as Weld took plenty of liberties in Mackerel, fictionalizing his own political experiences into a murder mystery, his appeal for Bailey bends the truth a bit. "Brad Bailey can win," Weld explains in the letter to Republican donors, noting that in Bailey's last race, for Middlesex County sheriff, "he was barely edged out by the 1996 Clinton landslide."

Barely? In the final tally, Bailey lost to his Democratic opponent, James DiPaola, 56 percent to 44 percent -- a decisive 12-point margin. Talk about literary license.

Michael Crowley can be reached at mcrowley[a]phx.com.