But it left some fellow Latter-day Saints and others wondering if he had lost his grasp of constitutional law not to mention the history of his own church's frightful encounters with government informants and harassment.

Because Romney once led a Mormon ecclesiastical precinct, roughly equivalent to a Catholic diocese, some worried he spoke for the church, too. By all accounts, he did not. The relationship between The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and the 30,000-strong Muslim community in Utah is solid - empathetic, cooperative and respectful.

On Sept. 14, he said, "How about people who are in settings - mosques, for instance - that may be teaching doctrines of hate and terror? Are we monitoring that? Are we wiretapping?"

Not long before Romney's explosive comments to the conservative Heritage Foundation, the Mormon stake he once led hosted an interfaith dinner intended to strengthen ties between Muslims, Jews and Christians. Because of the goodwill generated that night, Dr. Sepi Gilani, a surgeon and former board member of The Islamic Center of Boston, was particularly dismayed when she read reports of Romney's alarming words a few weeks later.

"Either they show the depths of his ignorance about us, or his willingness to use fear to polarize people," she said.

Wary moderate supporters see Romney's "expedient" side re-emerging as he nears announcing what everyone knows: He wants to be president in 2008. Currying favor with powerful neo-conservatives led him to flip-flop on "choice," "same-sex civil unions" and stem-cell research, and to veto a bill approving the so-called "morning-after pill" (his veto was overridden by a unanimous vote of the legislature).

Romney's expedient side surfaced back in 1994 when he skirted the abortion issue as deftly as Bill Clinton: "Not my choice, but every woman has the right to choose."

Sympathetic Mormons supported his muse then that the "morning-after pill" might be balm for abortion war wounds. They even understood when he claimed "civil unions" would ensure rights for gay citizens while protecting traditional marriage. But, they muttered "oh, please" when he unnecessarily supported building Native American-owned casinos near Cape Cod.

While the polls made it plain - no candidate who opposed abortion could win in Massachusetts - some sympathizers thought Romney was just a little too eager to compromise. A Catholic father of eight groused: "I'll vote for Romney, no matter what. But, I wish he would drive a stake in the ground and be himself. I know what Mormons believe. But, I have no idea what Romney stands for."

Illusive, evasive and virtually unknown Mitt Romney gave Sen. Edward Kennedy the scare of his political life in 1994.

Eight years later, hailed nationwide as the savior of the 2002 Winter Olympics, he undermined incumbent Republican Gov. Jane Swift's candidacy so decisively that she scratched before the convention.

Now Romney crassly plays to fearful Americans who fret that home-grown terrorists are religious fanatics praying at the mosque rather than the dispirited, irreligious angry young men they often are, drinking whiskey in a strip club on the "cheatin' side of town."

That's why the governor's rhetoric confounds another Salt Lake native, Dr. Christopher Blakesley, who went to church with Romney when they were students in Boston. Now an expert in international criminal law and terrorism, he holds a professorship at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, and is the J.Y. Sanders Professor Emeritus at Louisiana State University Law Center.

Blakesley wonders "Is wiretapping mosques really what Mitt believes, or is he willing to prostitute his beliefs for the nomination?"

A professor at a prominent university near Boston, a former Utahn who has known Romney for years warns: "Mitt's recent flip-flops on key issues are foolish pandering. He seriously overestimates the support he or any Mormon would ultimately receive from ultra-right Christians."

Thomas Duncan of Provo, who served with Romney when the two were missionaries in France, worries, "If Mitt gets serious about wiretapping mosques, how long will it be before the press figures out that Mormons were once at odds with the government and swore oaths in church that outsiders thought promoted terrorism?"

Duncan refers, in part, to a series of distorted dispatches from adversaries and paid informants that persuaded President James Buchanan to send federal troops to Utah in 1857.

Before siccing snoops on Muslims, like they once were turned on Mormons, the governor should listen to Mahmud Jafri, a member of the Dover (a wealthy Boston suburb) Republican Committee, contributor to both Romney campaigns and founding member of the Islamic Masumeen Center of New England: "His comments saddened Muslim leaders. Why wiretap and spy while we pray? We've already pledged to submit transcripts of all our services and proceedings in our mosques and centers."

Like the Salt Lake Olympic Organizing Committee, America needs a uniter, not a divider. It would be refreshing if the governor divined what polls will eventually tell him and decided right now, on his own, to stand for something.

---

Ronald B. Scott, a native of Salt Lake City, is a former staff writer for The Salt Lake Tribune, Deseret News, and LIFE magazine and a founding editor of People magazine. He lives near Boston and has just completed a novel about growing up Mormon.