The quiet force in McCain's campaign

WASHINGTON -- Election nights and campaign tours this primary season have spotlighted an elegant blonde in jewel-toned suits and a quadruple strand of pearls who stands beside her husband, Arizona Sen. John McCain, and says little.

Don't be fooled by the tableau.

Cindy McCain, possibly the next first spouse of the United States, is an heiress who travels to poor countries on medical missions, chairs a huge beer distribution company and is a key reason her husband is the presumptive Republican nominee for president. On Wednesday, in a taste of what her future could hold, McCain plans to attend a White House dinner to honor bishops and cardinals in town for Pope Benedict XVI's visit.

Though she was slow to warm to a second presidential bid after her husband's failed 2000 race, McCain is now an influential player. She gives "advice and counsel" on many issues, her husband told USA TODAY. Such as? "Things she sees that she thinks are important to our family and our lives."

That includes politics. When her husband's campaign ran out of money last summer, Cindy McCain forcefully argued for changes in personnel and strategy, and reassured fundraisers that spending problems were being addressed.

She also is effective at a microphone.

Last month, as Democrats Hillary Rodham Clinton and Barack Obama argued over who was best suited to answer an early-morning crisis call, she introduced her husband with a reference to their son in the Marines: "Everybody's talking about that call at 3 o'clock in the morning. I want him to represent my son at 3 o'clock in the morning."

And when Michelle Obama said in February that she was "really proud" of her country for the first time in her adult life, Cindy McCain had this to say: "I am proud of my country. I don't know about you, if you heard those words earlier. I am very proud of my country."

Both moments were spontaneous, McCain media strategist Mark McKinnon says. "People don't expect her to step out, and when she does, they really notice."

Cindy McCain, 53, is as reserved as her 71-year-old husband is extroverted, and a lot more polished in her appearance. But they are both independent-minded survivors of a punishing process.

Eight years ago, John McCain's bid for president began to unravel in South Carolina, where the McCains endured brutal attacks about their personal lives in fliers, phone calls and e-mails before the primary. Cindy McCain declined to be interviewed for this article, but her husband describes her initial reluctance about a second national campaign this year.

"There were clear misgivings and concerns," he says. "She knows how tough a political campaign is and how demanding it is."

Sharon Harper, a real estate CEO and longtime family friend, says Cindy "struggled with it." The turning point, she says, was when the McCains' teenage son, Jimmy, decided to join the Marines and fight in Iraq. "She didn't want to entrust her child to any other politician."

The second McCain campaign began as an expensive national effort, unlike the upstart 2000 bid. By last July almost all of the $24 million John had raised in the second quarter was gone, and the McCains called their staff to their retreat in Sedona, Ariz. The tense session produced a new campaign manager, Rick Davis, and marked the end of attempts to position John McCain as an establishment figure with a staff in every state.