NO BURNING BUSH -- guys on the right will like this
This Time, Dissent Stops at the White House Door
By RICHARD L. BERKE
nytimes.com
Reuters
President Bush meets with members of his cabinet, presenting a united front at the White House.
WASHINGTON
IN his father's White House, George W. Bush was regarded as the "loyalty thermometer." His mission: to make sure aides were sufficiently devoted to his father.
Often, they were not. From the chief of staff to the secretary of state, that Bush White House was riven by turf disputes and plots that made their way into the papers. In other words, it was a typical White House.
But the current President Bush has achieved something he could never do for his father. His White House is remarkably devoid of infighting and more disciplined and loyal than any administration in decades.
In this White House, it is considered disloyal for anyone to allow information to seep out that could reflect negatively on the president. There are few leaks to the press about internal debates.
That is no small thing. Presidents are often surrounded by advisers with colossal egos (not that these are lacking in this administration) whose major objective is to build their own empires — and reputations. In the past, White House advisers would toss snippets of news to reporters to promote their point of view to the public, or Congress — or even to get the president's attention. Often these leaks were self serving, but they could be useful in airing additional viewpoints, acting as trial balloons in testing out ideas with a constituency more diverse than the West Wing.
The loyalty that thus far characterizes this administration could stem from the fact that aides genuinely like the president. "Bush is generally so likable that people around him submerge their normal infighting and maneuvering," said former House Speaker Newt Gingrich, who was almost toppled by once-loyal supporters. "You get almost none of it in this White House."
Another, less charitable, explanation is that this White House put a premium on loyalty when putting together a team and is more aggressive at enforcing it. For example, after the briefest tenure as head of the Republican Party in modern times, Gov. James S. Gilmore III of Virginia, was ousted this month because White House officials did not consider him sufficiently willing to fall in lockstep behind the president.
Staff members, outside advisers and even members of Congress tell of being upbraided by Mr. Bush's lieutenants for uttering anything that could diminish the president. One White House official, referring to how Karen P. Hughes, the president's counselor, complained to staff members about a press leak, recalled her saying, "Whoever did this did not do the president a service."
In some administrations, war has led to divisions among advisers, and perhaps the biggest clash in the Bush government now is between Donald H. Rumsfeld, the defense secretary, and Colin L. Powell, the secretary of state, over whether the military should invade Iraq and how to address the matter of Russia. But their differences, thus far at least, have been civil, and in most other instances the war has only enhanced the administration's imperative to contain disputes.
Having a unified government makes it easier for Mr. Bush to unite the public. But as cohesive as the Bush administration is, some politicians and academics fear that the administration's cool professionalism and collegiality may not be best for democracy.
The concern is that without the proper airing of opinions on important public policy matters, there is little room for challenging orthodoxies — or for even gauging the public appetite for presidential proposals.
If there had been a public discussion of the debate inside the Johnson administration, the Vietnam War might have taken a different, and less tragic course. President Lyndon B. Johnson was so distressed that his vice president, Hubert H. Humphrey, was challenging him on Vietnam that he excluded Humphrey from crucial meetings — and made sure they were photographed for the newspapers. The most extreme example of an insular White House was during Watergate, when dissenters were purged from the staff of President Richard M. Nixon.
"Given the unprecedented character of the crisis we are now facing, it is all the more important to make sure as many reasonable voices as possible are heard," said David M. Kennedy, a history professor at Stanford. "No one can claim to have certain wisdom about what is the absolute best course of action at this moment. At some point a public has to hold its leadership accountable. They can't do it cogently unless they know the range of options."
Representative Henry A. Waxman, a California Democrat, worries that dissent is again not being encouraged. He accused the administration of shutting out the public — not only in being less open to the press but also Congress. For example, the White House has refused to reveal who participated in secret meetings of its energy task force.
"It is a form of arrogance that people think they should be able to operate without having to be accountable," Mr. Waxman said. "They would like to turn the clock back 20 or 30 years, to a time when it was more acceptable for government to operate in private. It's a desire for greater power that would be unchecked."
White House officials scoff at such criticism. "His senior team all feel very comfortable disagreeing, and yet once a decision has been made, not airing those disagreements because it is the president's decision," Ms. Hughes said.
Karl Rove, Mr. Bush's senior political advisor, said the lack of fear of leaks "allows people to explore things." He added: "You don't have to worry about coming up with an idea and having it leaked in an unpleasant way. People have the freedom to think outside the box."
At the start of the administration, Mr. Rove said, Mr. Bush encouraged people to work together. "He said, `Return each others' phone calls. Respect each others' opinions,' " he said. "He wants colleagues to try to come up with a consensus. What it does is create intense loyalty to him, but also loyalty to your colleagues."
There is no question that Mr. Bush has fostered a culture of dignity. In internal conversations, even e-mail messages, White House aides refer to him as "the president." In the Clinton administration, the president was often referred to internally as "Clinton."
Now, the key question — one that may not be answered until after Mr. Bush has left office — is whether the Bush White House stifles debate.
Douglas B. Sosnik, one of President Clinton's senior aides, said the Bush White House is more disciplined. "Unlike previous administrations, and regrettably at times our own, where staff people and members of the cabinet were strutting around like peacocks showing their feathers, these people appear more worried about their boss than themselves." Mr. Sosnik said. When debates become public, he said, "it hurts the boss and stifles healthy internal debate." But Mr. Sosnik added that if there are not vigorous internal debates "an administration is doomed for failure."
Another wartime president, Franklin D. Roosevelt, encouraged internal competition and often pitted advisers against one another in search of the best options.
"Franklin Roosevelt's genius in leading the country into World War II was that he lived by the proposition that before you can have an effective policy abroad you have to have a consensus at home," said Robert Dallek, a presidential historian. "The way to have that is to have a public discussion rather than suppression."
Most presidents expect loyalty and harmony, only to be frustrated by leaks and backbiting. An angry President Ronald Reagan once snapped, "I've had it up to my keister with these leaks." (This was quickly leaked to the press.)
William Kristol, editor of The Weekly Standard, remembers the tense rivalries between his staff when he worked for Vice President Dan Quayle, and the aides to the elder President Bush. Mr. Kristol said one reason there is more cohesion now is that there are no ideological factions pressing for dominance. "There were big fights over Bush's 1990 tax increase and civil rights legislation that split the White House because they were big fights in the Republican Party," he said. "Now there's not a very ideological White House."
Michael K. Deaver, often in the center of internecine warfare in the Reagan administration, said he never felt pressure to keep quiet. "Nobody among us thought Ronald Reagan would take your head off if you did something wrong," he said
But if things change and the airtight culture of the Bush White House begins to change, veterans of the Clinton and Reagan administrations have some advice for their successors: Stop having meetings. |
