Many Say It’s Already Too Late For Lowry To Survive Politically

After the devastating Republican juggernaut in November, Gov. Mike Lowry was staggering.

Today, facing his second sexual harassment allegation in less than a year, the Democratic governor may be down for the count.

Republicans already had been lining up to run against Lowry next year, but now they’re really licking their chops. And there’s stepped-up talk of a Democratic primary challenger, say, Attorney General Christine Gregoire. No incumbent governor has been seriously challenged in a primary, much less dumped, since Dixy Lee Ray in 1980.

Some Lowry allies say he may not even run again, to protect himself and his family from a grueling campaign that would be uphill at best.

Lowry’s poll numbers have been dismal almost since his inauguration in early 1993 and took a dive after he advocated a large tax increase, a controversial universal health-care plan and other measures that critics called the moves of a tax-and-spend liberal.

Republicans battered Lowry in last fall’s campaigns, even though he wasn’t on the ballot, using him as a poster child for all they consider wrong with government. It was a popular message and the GOP made their best gains in a generation, bloodying Lowry in the process.

But today, an already marginalized Lowry has been knocked even lower by allegations that he repeatedly sexually harassed a female staffer who had been one of his most ardent advocates. Lawyers hint ominously that there may be other cases out there.

The governor disavows any wrongdoing and is supporting a probe by an outside lawyer appointed by his staff. He’s the picture of cool, almost detached. He laughs. He’s jovial. He keeps his busy schedule and gives the impression of a man who thinks he’ll weather the storm.

Lowry insists it’s business as usual.

Obviously it is not.

Lowry is in a fix. The supremely politically correct politician, one who has built a career on personal integrity, is suddenly accused of a most sensitive violation. And Susanne Albright, the accuser, has not gone public with specifics, filed a lawsuit or even lodged an in-house sexual harassment complaint.

So at the moment, with the rumor mill running at full tilt, Lowry has no way to defend himself. And in this town, that leaves him pretty much on his own.

The early take is that Lowry is damaged, possibly behind repair.

“He’s dead meat, pure and simple,” says a liberal lobbyist who likes Lowry a lot. “This is no longer an era of ideology; it’s an era of morality.”

“He’s toast,” a longtime, highly placed Democratic observer sighs when asked if the state party’s standard-bearer can be a viable nominee in ‘96.

The strategist, who like nearly everyone else this week reflected Lowry’s residual power by declining to be identified publicly, sees eery parallels with U.S. Sen. Brock Adams’ career meltdown in 1992.

Adams, Lowry’s predecessor as 7th District congressman and a fellow liberal, finally withdrew for a reelection campaign after eight women said he had sexually harassed or assaulted them.

Others were drawing a parallel with another Northwest politician, Sen. Bob Packwood, R-Ore., accused of improper advances to 29 women.

A big difference, of course, is that in the other cases, women came forward with specifics. Lowry is accused of undefined wrongdoing in a still ill-defined area.

Democrats are torn, faced with a choice between speaking up for the titular head of their party and needing to respect the allegations of a woman who says the governor abused their work relationship.