The resurrection of Evan Mecham.

To political observers, it must seem

the atest comeback since 'the New Nixon.'

To Republicans, it's a portent of civil war between the Religious Right and the establishment

In Arizona, it's a dream for some, a nightmare for others.

SIX YEARS after the California gubernatorial defeat that had seemingly ended his political career, Richard Nixon was elected President of the United States. In what could be the greatest comeback since Nixon's, Evan Mecham, one year after his removal from the Arizona governor's office by a State Senate court of impeachment, declared his intention to return to that office in 1990. Right now, he's the favorite to win the Republican primary.

The story of his first rise and fall made national headlines. In the 1986 GOP primary, Mecham, an auto-dealer and perennial candidate, was the surprise winner over an establishment opponent. Then the general election turned into a three-way race, with a second Democrat running as an independent. Mecham won the election with 40 per cent of the vote. He then became a "national outrage" with choice comments on religion, his political opponents, and anything else that came to mind, and for opposing Martin Luther King Day. Within months, he was the target of a massive recall drive, six felony indictments by a state grand jury, and the impeachment proceedings-the only governor in American history to face simultaneously all three methods of removal from office.

He already has a declared opponent for the 1990 race. J. Fife Symington III, a real-estate developer, who was the first Phoenix business leader to publicly ask for Mecham's resignation, has offered himself to Arizona Republicans because "Evan Mecham must be stopped."

The contrast between the two reflects the clash of cultures in the Republican Party in Arizona-and perhaps nationwide. Mecham was born dirt poor and raised on a farm during the Depression. He eventually made millions, through decades of hard work and a spartan life style, but he is still more comfortable with working-class good ol' boys; for his inaugural ball, he bought his tuxedo at Sears.

Symington may own stock in Sears, but he buys his clothes elsewhere. His great-grandfather was Henry Clay Frick, founder of U.S. Steel, and he is a product of Gilman Country Day School and Harvard, where he organized students for Goldwater in 1964.

Symington says he will not vote for Mecham if the former governor wins the primary, and he is not alone.

There are many Republicans who, although they may agree with Mecham on economic issues, have been embarrassed by his remarks about minorities, by his stooping to argue with journalists, and by his injection of religion into the affairs of state. That's why Mecham was impeached by a Republican-controlled legislature, on two specious charges which would have been swept under the rug for a more popular governor. The first charge was that he obstructed an investigation into a death threat on a state employee. No one was ever arrested, let alone prosecuted and convicted, on the alleged threat. The second charge was that he loaned state funds to his auto dealership. Mecham claims the money was from his campaign fund, not part of the state treasury. Today, the money sits in his campaign bank account, despite the best efforts over the past year of Attorney General Bob Corbin.

In the criminal courts, Mecham was acquitted of violating campaign laws. The jury returned the verdict in three hours; afterward, several jurors hugged Mecham. One jur

JOE LANE, then speaker of the Arizona House, defends the impeachment: "Ev Mecham was tried in a constiituted court. The legislators obeyed the law. They did everything right. If that's a raw deal, then it's a raw deal." But he also says, if Mecham "had just kept his damn mouth shut, and used his brain and not been so stubborn, he would still be governor today."

Since then, the voters have weighed in with their own opinion. When Lane, who as speaker started the impeachment proceedings, sought re-election, he finished third in his district primary despite his statewide reputation as an influential and experienced Republican legislator.

There have been other warning signs. One of Mecham's most widely publicized "gaffes" was when he told a Jewish congregation that the United States is a great Christian nation. At last January's state Republican convention, the floor passed by a voice vote a resolution declaring this to be a Christian nation, just as Mecham had said.

For as many as one-fourth of Arizona's voters, Evan Mecham is a catalytic leader who fought the combined evil forces of big government and the hidden power structure, and was then victimized by an anti-democratic lynch mob. The war is against Communists, abortionists, atheists, influence peddlers, weak-kneed judges, crooked politicians, drug dealers, pornographers, conspirators, sex educators, liberal reporters, and anyone who does not accept the Bible as the literal word of God and believe that the United States Constitution was divinely inspired.

Barry Goldwater said at the time that it was impossible to give Evan any advice becasue he had an 800 line direct to God. Mecham, like most faithful who pray regularly, does believe he can talk to the Almighty, and he considers it heresy to make jokes about it. Additionally, Mecham knows that at least some of the opposition to him has been because of his Mormon religion, which is shared by about 15 per cent of Arizona's population.

His followers also include many non-religious blue-collar workers, farmers, and small-business owners, especially in the rural areas. The non-drinking Mecham even has some support among the anti-establishment beer-bar crowds. And he is liked, if not admired, in Arizona's numerous retirement communities, whose voters tend to supportany politician who promises not to increase taxes.

Mecham supporters have now formed a tenuous coalition with the remnants of Pat Robertson's 1988 Arizona campaign organization. Their combined strength has, in the past six months, captured a dozen additional seats in the state legislature, a clear majority of the Republican precinct-committee positions, and control of the hierarchy of all county, district, and state units of the Arizona GOP.

Zane Smith, 25, worked on Barry Goldwater's last campaign, then went on to be a Young Republican National Committeeman. He is given credit, even by his detractors, for a masterly organizational effort in Arizona last year on behalf of Pat Robertson. "Some say we are right wing," Smith says, "but I challenge them to find where my views are out of touch with the Republican Party platform." As for Arizona's best-known conservative, Smith says, "Barry Goldwater has moved on the political spectrum. Not us."

The Robertson people are more sophisticated politically, generally more affluent, and even more convinced of the righteousness of their cause than the Mecham wing. They are also more homogeneous in that almost all come from fundamentalist churches and describe themselves as bornagain Christians. And that could be the time bomb in the current coalition. Among Robertson's followers, there is a whispered uneasiness about the Mormon belief that the Bible and the Book of Mormon are equal as the word of God. Conversely, the Mormons are a bit leery of the zeal with which the evangelicals approach worldly politics.

For now, Arizona Republicans who wanted Mecham removed from office have been standing in gape-jawed confusion, waiting for a leader to emerge to restore the traditional direction of the party. They now use the term "moderate Goldwater Republicans" as a method of distinguishing themselves from those who have not only taken over the party hierarchy but also thc label "conservative."

Joe Lane is a frequent speaker at political gatherings wher "some people will tear your head off if you say anything against the Christian resolution. They look at me like I am not a Christian and that I am some kind of Communist. But we don't gain one damn additional vote by passing resolutions like this and we lose a trainload. If we can't gain votes, we ought to keep our mouths shut."

Kit Mehrtens, Arizona's Republican National Committeewoman, is angry about Mecham's continuing political activism. "If there are more than two in the primary, Mr. Mecham will walk away with it," she said. "This will kill us for the governorship because there is no way he can win a general election. It's obvious to me that Mr. Mecham doesn't give a damn about the Republican Party."

The fear is that another Mecham controversy will give not only the governor's office but possibly the legislature as well to the Democrats. This would mean Democratic control of reapportionment in one of the most Republican states in the nation following the 1990 census, when Arizona will gain two or three more seats in Congress. It will take decades to get things back to normal. If ever.

MECHAM HAD NOTHING in his background that prepared him to be the chief constitutional officer of a state. Like a dog who chased cars for years, but did not know what to do when his teeth were finally sunk into a tire, he never realized that what gets politicians into office is frequently not the same thing as what keeps them there. He never quit campaigning, instead relishing television interviews, press conferences, and radio talk shows, oblivious to the dangers of overexposure. In addition, he had a very short attention span when quietly working on state issues. For example, during the impeachment process, Mecham once closed the door to his office and told his secretary he would be studying the state budget and did not want to be disturbed. Within ten minutes, he had called a radio talk show and was complaining over the air about the legislature.

In September 1987, eight months into his turbulent administration,I was recruited to replace Governor Mecham's press secretary. At the time, as a freshman governor, he was generating more national news coverage than the other 49 governors combined. Republican leaders were very blunt in their advice to me: "Just get Mecham to keep his mouth shut." Moderate Republicans are still trying to keep him quiet. They don't know how to prevent him from running for governor again, but they fear he will destroy the party in the process.

As for Mecham, he loves the fight. It's the winning he doesn't know how to handle.