Friday, Dec. 15, 1967
Mood Indigo
In the waning days of 1967, a noxious atmosphere pervades the nation's capital. "We are in danger of losing our sense of confidence in each other," warned Massachusetts' Democratic Senator Ted Kennedy. Said another Democratic Senator of the mood on Capitol Hill: "It's a tiredness, a frustration, an uneasiness. It's a war with no end AP in sight. It's a racial and urban problem with no end in sight. It's a fiscal problem with no end in sight. Maybe if we all get out of here, go home and listen to the people for a while, we'll come back with new hope and new ideas and new enthusiasm. But maybe we'll come back more discouraged than ever."
It was difficult to imagine how the discouragement could go any deeper than it already has. Congress and the President are not yet as badly stalemated as they were during John F. Kennedy's last days, but they are rapidly approaching that point. The Great Society is sputtering along in low gear because, as one Administration official put it, "the governmental structure has outrun the funds." Rumors of wholesale resignations are making the rounds in Washington in the wake of Robert Mc-Namara's decision to quit the Defense Department. United Nations Ambassador Arthur Goldberg is expected to depart within a few months; Labor Secretary Willard
Wirtz, Treasury Secretary Henry Fowler, Agriculture Secretary Orville Freeman and Poverty Boss Sargent Shriver are said to be anxious to leave the Government or to change jobs--though all may temporarily stay put now that Mc-Namara is leaving, simply to prevent the kind of revolving-door exodus that could hurt Lyndon Johnson in an election year.
Signal Failures. The lightning rod for most criticism is, of course, the President. Johnson, complains one sub-cabinet member, has a singular ability to "catalyze disenchantment"--not to mention disbelief. Few Congressmen--and fewer newsmen--take the President of the U.S. completely at his word. When he forecast a deficit of only $8 billion for the current fiscal year, few believed that it would be so small. Now that he is predicting a deficit of up to $35 billion, hoping thereby to prod Congress into enacting his 10% tax surcharge, few believe that it will be so large.
The President has undeniably failed in some signal tests of executive performance. He has not built a genuine "Johnson team." Curiously, more first-rank Kennedy men have stuck it out with him than have the men whom he himself brought into the Government, notably Bill Moyers, Jack Valenti, George Reedy. Johnson, moreover, has failed to perform the crucial executive function of charting a clear course for the future. One top economist complains that Johnson's close-to-the-vest method of operation, perfected during 24 years in Congress, has left major institutions stumbling around in the dark on vital policy decisions until the last possible moment.
Overburdened Aides. Nor has Johnson succeeded in stimulating much new thought or inspiring men to outdo themselves--a fact underscored by the impending departure of such talented second-echelon officials as Assistant Attorney General John Doar or State Department Policy Planner Zbigniew
Brzezinski. Such critics as Columnist Joseph Kraft charge that the President's own White House staff suffers a "poverty of intellect." The most talented of the presidential aides--men like Domestic Overseer Joe Califano, Speechwriter Harry McPherson and Security Adviser Walt Rostow--are grievously overburdened as a result.
Even Senate Minority Leader Everett Dirksen, one of the President's most faithful congressional supporters, last week challenged him for the first time on his conduct of the war. "We urge again that this Administration--to a degree and with a vigor not yet evident--look beyond Viet Nam and consider where we shall stand and with whom we shall sit when this conflict ceases," said Dirksen in a joint statement with House Republican Leader Gerald Ford. "The Congress and the people have seen all too little evidence of genuine effort to explore and exploit the diplomatic opportunities available to us in this regard." Moreover, said Dirksen, the election of "a Republican Administration that committed itself to peace" would have a "very wholesome and healthy effect."
Larger than Life. Despite Washington's mood indigo, things are not altogether bleak for the nation--or for Lyndon Johnson. For all the grumbling, the President may get very nearly what he requested in the way of increased Social Security benefits (House-Senate conferees proposed a 13% increase last week instead of the 15% proposed by Johnson), foreign aid (the Senate is seeking to restore more than half a billion dollars to the $2.1 billion House measure), and education (the Senate rejected moves to trim $2.5 billion from Johnson's threeyear, $14.5 billion school-aid program).
Besides, there are increasing signs that once next year's campaign gets under way in earnest, Johnson will be the ebullient, inexhaustible, larger-than-life campaigner of old, and considerably harder to defeat than a lot of people now figure. During one dizzying 24-hour period last week, he offered a preview of what that campaign may be like--delivering three separate speeches, holding an impromptu press conference, alternately scolding and cajoling his critics, spinning out visions of the kind of nation he wants to help build, and cracking joke after joke.
Waxing Sarcastic. He held his news conference in the Cabinet Room of the White House, seated in a rocker at the enormous mahogany conference table. When he was asked about rumors of other Cabinet-level resignations, he waxed sarcastic. "I know that some kids have been calling around some of your bureaus predicting that," he said, clearly referring to the Kennedy brothers. "Most of them are not as close to the situation as they might be--or might desire to be." Another newsman asked whether the "kids" were old enough to be Congressmen. "I didn't have any members of Congress in mind," grinned Johnson, "although I am sure some of them could be involved."
That evening, Johnson was in deadly earnest when he addressed the Foreign Policy Conference for Business Executives at the State Department. Discussing Viet Nam, he declared that the U.S. involvement had helped those nations in the shadow of China to over come a "paralysis of will" and to begin working together for their mutual security and prosperity. Nonetheless, he added, many in the U.S. were searching for "the fire escape--the easy way out," just as they were "in Mussolini's time" and "in Hitler's time."
Deserting the Ship. Some observers are so convinced Johnson will be beaten next year that they have already concluded he is a lame duck in aspic. "Lots of so-called friends are deserting his ship," said one politician, "the way they were deserting Harry Truman's in 1948 and 1952." Still, it would be unwise to count the President out--or even to rate him an underdog. Despite the challenge from Minnesota Democrat
Eugene McCarthy--and in some cases, because of it--Democratic regulars are beginning to coalesce behind the President. Last week the Massachusetts State Committee overwhelmingly endorsed him, and a group of Western Democratic leaders called unanimously for his reelection.
As for L.B.J., he seemed less than panic-stricken. Whoever the Democratic candidate may be in 1968, said the President with supreme self-confidence, "I fully intend to support him."
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