Visibility by Informality

THE PRESIDENCY

John Kennedy once remarked that he didn't like to wake up in the morning and read newspaper stories about Khrushchev or Mao or Castro or any other unfriendly fellow. What he wanted was headlines about the President of the U.S., and he was engagingly candid about his desire for public "visibility."

Well, Kennedy had nothing at all on Lyndon Johnson in the matter of visibility. Last week, after a fast round of golf at suburban Maryland's Burning Tree Golf Club, Johnson entertained a king, tossed out the opening-day ball for the Washington Senators, popped out of the White House to reach through the southeast gate and shake hands with tourists, in a single day made four speeches totaling some 7,000 words, and presided at not one but two news conferences.

On the Screen. When Johnson first became President, there was endless conjecture among newsmen as to the format he would follow in his press conferences. The talk went that Johnson, unlike Kennedy, did not feel comfortable at formal, televised sessions and would try to develop another system. Up to a point, the talk was right. Johnson fell into the habit of unexpectedly calling reporters into his office on Saturday afternoons, talking to them informally and at length.

Last week, for only the third time, the President held a full-dress conference for live TV. It was a considerable success. On hand was a record audience of 512, including about 150 visiting editors. Johnson, low-toned and relaxed, admitted backhandedly what everyone has known for months--that he intends to run for President this year. Asked how he felt about a poll of the editors that indicated he would win, he replied: "I hope they feel in November as they do in April." He ranged from the state of the U.S. economy (see BUSINESS) to the progress of railway management-labor negotiations; he urged Senate passage of the civil rights bill, touted U.S. missile strength, allowed as how he might have "a hard fight, a difficult one" for election, listed a number of legislative items on which he places priority. Although he said nothing very startling, he made a pleasing number of headlines in the next morning's papers.

Out of the Field. At week's end he was back at his Saturday matinee. Leaning far back in his massive green leather chair, legs crossed, hands sometimes clasped behind his neck, the President was the picture of ease. His biggest news concerned a "very comprehensive" study of the U.S. draft system and military manpower policy which he had ordered. The outcome, he said, might indicate the possibility of ending the draft within a decade. Again, he rattled off a dizzying array of statistics, including some to show how a nationwide rail strike would put a disastrous crimp in the economy. And there were a few more words about his political plans: "I have tried to be President of all the people," Johnson said. "I'm going to try to stay out of the campaign field as long as possible."

As the 60-odd reporters filed out of the oval office, it was apparent to all that these end-of-the-week gatherings around the President's desk were here to stay. Clearly, Johnson thinks that this is the best format for getting across his plans and ideas. There will undoubtedly be more of the formal sessions. But Lyndon Johnson has always liked to get close to those he is trying to persuade, to look them straight in the eye and squeeze their hands. This is more easily done in the relaxed atmosphere of his White House office.

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