From the Right, Both Acceptance and Distrust of McCain

Politically, McCain-Kennedy was a near-death experience for McCain, who observed to an aide that he had never seen an issue of such intensity.

"He saw that his approach on immigration was out of alignment with what voters wanted," recalled Mark McKinnon, an unpaid adviser to the campaign. "He realized that there was no way to get that reform he wanted without first addressing questions about the border, that the voters were insisting on that. He learned. He's tuned in. He got gunpowder blasts from the last time, and that isn't going to happen again.

"What he is doing now isn't abandoning any position. It's just a re-sequencing of things. You have to take care of the border first, he is saying."

In 2000, McCain dug in his heels during the South Carolina primary on issues including religious intolerance to campaign finance reform, and lost to George W. Bush. "He learned from defeat, as everybody learns," McKinnon said.

Eight years later, the candidate has become not only more conciliatory but also more accommodating. Inflexible positions have become malleable, especially on immigration, motivated by McCain's hope to make peace with conservative antagonists.

"Here's a guy who wants to be president," a former aide said. "His position on immigration had been a huge gale-force wind blowing in his face. He'd also faced the prospect of returning to the Senate badly weakened. He didn't look forward to any of that. He had to do what he's done. . . .

"He's finessed immigration probably as well as he can. [Bush] could bust it open again on him if he pushed on the issue, but that probably won't happen. So I think he'll be okay with most voters."

But problems persist for McCain, a reminder of which awaited him in Atlanta, at his last rally on Saturday afternoon. A bespectacled man, with his arms folded, listened quietly as a grinning McCain said, "We just came from California, where we got the endorsement of the Terminator, Arnold Schwarzenegger."

Some spectators chuckled and applauded. Steve Bray's arms did not move from his chest; he was not at all enthralled by McCain boasting of an endorsement from yet another Republican moderate.

A self-described Christian conservative and the Republican Party chairman for Newton County in Georgia, Bray has doubts about McCain's conservative bona fides.

"I'm supposed to be neutral in this race, but I feel I have an obligation to express my concern about him," he said. "I can go down the list for anybody. He got McCain-Feingold and campaign financing, and that abridges freedom of speech. . . . He has his amnesty vision for the illegals, the McCain-Kennedy Amnesty Act. He obfuscates; he refuses to give a clear answer on what he wants to see happen to his bill. He talks now about 'securing our borders.' But what's next -- the pathway to citizenship?

"We need the rule of law here, not just in Iraq. . . . I just don't fully trust him. He insulted evangelical Christians last time when he said this is not the party of Bob Jones. . . . He wraps himself in the cloak of Reagan. But I wonder what is under that cloak."

Despite his anger, Bray says he will support McCain if he is nominated. But he cautioned that many fellow Republicans in Newton County might simply stay home on Election Day.

"I may have to end up working for him," Bray said. "Still, I'm more comfortable with Huckabee. I certainly want to see him at least be the vice presidential candidate. . . . This doubt about [McCain] isn't going away."

Not everyone in the party is convinced that McCain's tensions with conservatives will harm him should he reach the general election. Some of his high-profile supporters think he might actually enjoy his own version of a Sister Souljah moment: that, in refusing to be cowed by a key party constituency, he might better attract independents and conservative-to-moderate Democrats.

The former aide to McCain acknowledged the high stakes of Thursday's CPAC speech, noting it invites the possibility of a reconciliation of sorts between the candidate and his skeptics. But he cautioned against McCain trying too hard to win over old adversaries. "It would be harmful for the campaign to cozy up to a lot of conservative leaders and movements," he said. "It wouldn't look . . . authentic for McCain."

Authenticity, he added, is at the heart of McCain's appeal: Lose it, and he might lose everything. CPAC will be a tricky dance for the man who bills himself, audaciously, as "the true conservative."