Clark Suffers Lack of Recognition

The bus started its journey at BB King's blues club, on Beale Street in Memphis. It ended up outside the Capitol ballroom in downtown Nashville, where a country music star was waiting.

But on this - the final day of campaigning in Tennessee - the penultimate stop for General Wesley Clark's silver behemoth was the nondescript town of Dickson, and the rain was just beginning to fall as the cavalcade came to rest a mere 20 minutes behind schedule.

Through the smoked glass windows of the bus, the general and several young aides could be seen nodding their heads and bopping away to a song that we could not hear.

As his press spokesman later explained, a carpeted bus - complete with plush seats and bunk beds - is a comfortable way to travel. "It does give the staff a chance to be together in a small group," he said. "You can pull up anywhere and meet people."

But with the pressures of modern, television-led campaigning, that kind of spontaneous pit-stop does not really happen.

General Clark was the only candidate who chose to spend the whole of this crucial day in Tennessee. However, despite his efforts to make himself and his message widely known here, only a mile down the road from the Dickson auditorium stop, voters were still struggling to recognise him.

"I think I saw something about him. I knew somebody was a general," Lisa Sweeney, an ex-marine who works in one of the mega-pharmacy chains that blight the mid-American landscape, said.

Albert Johnson votes Democrat, but he wasn't too worried about the primary stage. He has heard of John Kerry, but said that he couldn't see Clark in his mind's eye, or remember what he had done.

Whether or not it is the fault of media under exposure, recognition matters. A lot of Democrats, never mind the public as a whole, still don't really know who he is.

Among the initiated waiting for the general to arrive, and quietly ushering supporters into the hall, 27-year-old Mark Harris - complete with Clark lapel badge - was disarmingly frank about what he was doing there.

"I got talked into it by a friend in a bar. I still like Dean, but my union is backing Kerry. I'm not going to be voting for Clark," he said.

As with a surprising number of young Democrats, the person he wants to criticise most is a long way from Dickson's Renaissance Center. "Let's get rid of Tony Blair, too - he's just Bush's wash-rag," he said.

Tennessee senator Doug Jackson told Guardian Unlimited that, whatever pundits say about the inevitability of the Democratic result, the more the US gets to "know" Wes Clark, the more people will realise that he should be president.

"John Kerry would do a good job but, to pick a puppy out of the litter, Wes Clark has all the traits people need in a leader today," he said.

In the surreal nature of primary campaigning, the man who still just might be the next president of the US is sharing his venue space with the Dickson County amateur radio club and a senior printmaking class.

As the retired general begins his oration, someone starts to play a Chopin Nocturne on an electronic grand piano in the foyer outside. This is music not to fire the blood, but to cool it.

During the first half of his speech, I asked to be allowed on the bus for a behind the scenes look at a campaign on the road. The national press people were not keen.

After some foot-stomping, the doors were opened - and it became obvious that this was not exactly a bus that had been lived in.

Romantic notions of finding policy drafts littering fag-strewn tables were shattered. Instead, there were bottles of Gatorade. I later discovered that the campaign had had the bus for all of a day.

Back in the hall, the general was explaining some of the detail that he and his advisors had thought through. Every working family making less than $50,000 will be exempt from federal income tax: this is what he means by the phrase "family values".

He listed the reasons why Tennesseans should vote for him today: he'll create the most jobs, he'll be the best at fighting the Republican "mean machine", and he will encourage the most inclusive values.

Lastly, and to the biggest cheer, he told the crowd: "I've forgotten more about national security than GW Bush will ever learn."

All went well with the peroration but, despite the glowing faces outside, some remained unconvinced.

Joe Jenkins is the 66-year-old chairman of the local county Democrats. He has always been sceptical about newcomer Clark, reasoning that he is no more "one of us" than he had been before deciding to run for president:

"The man is a Republican. He voted for Reagan and Nixon and fundraised for George Bush senior," he said. "He hasn't convinced me where the money's coming from and, so far, he's carried just one state."

Mr Jenkins - his arm in a sling following shoulder surgery - came along to hear what the general had to say, but will now be following the recommendation of his union, the powerful blue-collar Teamsters.

They had originally backed Dick Gephardt, but switched to the party's new darling, John Kerry, following the Congressman's endorsement.

It may come from the realm of old-fashioned Democratic bloc politics, but the gruff pensioner has a political brain that is every bit as tuned in as those of the scribes on the press bus.

"Kerry has this nomination in the bag. I just hope now they can talk Edwards into running alongside him, because the party will need a man from the south against Bush," he said.

"Don't get me wrong, Clark says what he believes, and believes what he says. I'll give that to him."