It's time to take seriously the possibility that Republicans could arrive at their presidential nominating convention this summer without having chosen a candidate.
If that happens, the crucial disputes at the gathering in Cleveland will be about rules and procedures, not platforms and policies. The power brokers won't be big-name senators but rather influential state officials and interest groups.
A reminder of this was the death this past weekend of Drew Lewis, a central figure in the last contested convention. That was in 1976, when Ronald Reagan faced off against President Gerald Ford.
It's an instructive model for what could happen this July if Donald Trump, Ted Cruz and a mainstream Republican divide up the delegates so that no one has a majority.
Lewis, who was 84, is usually remembered as the man who was Reagan's transportation secretary in 1981, when the government successfully broke a strike by the air traffic controllers union. But in 1976, he was a pivotal player in denying Reagan the Republican nomination, an intense struggle that was decided by a few votes.
The context: After losing all the initial contests against the incumbent, Reagan rallied conservative forces with demagoguery, arguing that returning the Panama Canal to Panama would lead to the encirclement of the U.S. by hostile naval forces. (A Panama Canal treaty was signed a year later and took effect Dec. 31, 1999.) Reagan won most of the later primaries. When the contests ended in early June, the two Republicans were virtually tied.
Then, using the perquisites of the presidency — appointments, trips on Air Force One, small projects — Ford began to pick up delegates. John Sears, the brilliant Reagan campaign manager, realized that the challenger couldn't win a war of attrition. With Sen. Paul Laxalt, a Reagan confidant, he persuaded the Gipper to choose the liberal Pennsylvania Sen. Richard Schweiker as his running mate.
This was announced three weeks before the convention.
As Sears hoped, this move had the effect — in football parlance — of freezing the linebackers. It was such a shock that Republicans stepped back to take stock.
Ford, however, retained a small but clear advantage. So while conservatives focused on the platform, Sears' next gambit was a proposed rules change that would have required any candidate to announce a running mate before being nominated. The idea was to force Ford to make a choice that might alienate a faction and swing votes to Reagan.
Delegations from Mississippi to Illinois were in play on the rule-change vote, held on the second day of the convention. But a key was the pro-Ford Pennsylvania delegation. If Schweiker could persuade his fellow Pennsylvanians to support the change, the message would sound throughout the Kansas City convention.
But Schweiker's longtime friend, neighbor and former campaign manager was Lewis, head of the Ford delegation in the state. With carrots and sticks, Lewis outworked his old pal: Pennsylvania voted overwhelmingly against the rule change. That sealed the nomination for Ford.
That slice of history shows why fights over rules, not platform planks, probably would now be decisive in Cleveland if no Republican comes into the convention with a majority (for the first time in 40 years).
And it suggests that the key players won't be powerful Washington lawmakers like Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell or House Speaker Paul Ryan. Instead, the keys will be representatives of interest groups such as the National Rifle Association and religious-conservative organizations, who are working to elect delegates this year for most of the leading contenders.
Someone may be even fortunate enough to find a Drew Lewis. Reagan was so impressed with the Pennsylvanian who helped defeat him that he enlisted Lewis for his Cabinet four years later.
The Ford forces were able to remain confident that despite Schweiker they could hold Pennsylvania on any test vote. "We had Drew," recalls Stuart Spencer, the chief Ford strategist. "We knew Drew controlled that delegation."