Oiling Washington's Wheels

By William R. Doerner

In the capital, parties are essential to the governing game

Washington Gossip Columnist Betty Beale, who holds the equivalent of a black belt in the sport, spotted her opportunity. Noting that Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O'Connor was about to wind up a chat with Attorney General William French Smith at the Swedish Ambassador's Christmas party, Beale swooped past the hors d'oeuvre table, greeted O'Connor and guided her skillfully to a brocade couch. She had reached safe territory. Even though the pair was surrounded by some 200 other guests, no one would have dreamed of interrupting a sit-down tete-a-tete at a stand-up party. Conversations conducted in the zone beneath a hand-held cocktail glass are, after all, strictly private affairs.

The Sanctity of the Seated is only one of the unwritten rules of Washington's code of Power Party etiquette. In a city where no one makes even the pretense of avoiding office talk during social occasions, and where the office being talked about may be an Oval one, partying counts for a good deal more than celebrating the season. For many Cabinet officers, congressional leaders and other key political players, the social whirl is "really an elongation of the working day," observes Superlobbyist Robert Gray, who makes it his (very profitable) business to know what lubricates the workings of Washington. Parties in the capital are a lot more, and often a lot less, than just fun: they are part of the power scene, and never more so than during the Christmas-season binge.

The pinnacle of power partying, naturally, is the White House, whose annual holiday bashes are regretted by almost no one asked. Indeed, one tale this year involves a recently divorced newsman. When the White House invitation was mistakenly sent to his old address, his ex-wife accepted, then showed up at the press reception with her new boyfriend. The splitting of the press corps into two gatherings prompted concern that there were separate but unequal "A" and "B" lists; the Washington Post looked into the matter and found that the division was egalitarian, each party boasting roughly the same number of media superstars.

Within the past two weeks Ronald and Nancy Reagan have opened their home to 400 Secret Service staffers, who are apolitical by law, and to 500 members of Congress, some of whom became so temporarily for the occasion. Democratic Congressman Thomas Downey, recalling that party sustenance in Jimmy Carter's White House consisted of white wine and finger food, surveyed this year's full-service bar and buffet of roast beef and fettuccini approvingly. "One nice thing about Republicans," he allowed, "is that they are not afraid to spend money."

By and large, members of the Reagan Administration need little coaxing when it comes to stepping out. Indeed, some Democrats complain uncharitably that Smith, for one, pays less attention to court calendars than to social ones. Says one Democratic Senator: "If you want to reach the Attorney General, call his social secretary and find out what party he is going to." Yet Max Friedersdorf, a former Reagan legislative assistant, insists that when he tried to cut back on his staffs outside socializing, he discovered that their productivity suffered. Says he: "You have to go to parties to stay informed."

Even dedicated arm benders find it necessary to spend some time behind their desks, of course, and so a variation on full-fledged partygoing was developed: the Drop-By. The ingredients for a successful Power Drop-By include a late arrival, a chauffeured limousine and media props. Defense Secretary Caspar Weinberger has become a master. At a reception for a visiting Italian official, Weinberger showed up an hour late, greeted the guest of honor in the glare of a television light that suddenly popped on, chatted with other guests and said his farewells amid a quick round of handshakes. Elapsed time: 14 min., 45 sec. "He knows his presence can make or break an event," said Host Paul Laxalt, whose event had evidently just been made.

The quintessential Reagan-era Power Party was thrown last week at the Georgetown home of Joseph Canzeri, a former presidential scheduler who now runs a public relations concern. Delayed slightly by the Washington Redskins' 29-27 win over the St. Louis Cardinals (occasionally even power rituals are only the second most interesting game in town), Canzeri's Venetian-style Christmas fete attracted a classic "interesting Washington mix": diplomats (Nepalese Ambassador Bhekh Thapa), members of Congress (Senators John Tower and Sam Nunn), name journalists (Columnist Mary McGrory), plus the Reaganaut social front line (Presidential Counsellor Edwin Meese and Wife Ursula, along with Deputy Chief of Staff Michael Deaver and Wife Carolyn). The White House group often favors its own small huddle, reinforcing a persistent suspicion that Reagan's aides prefer one another's company to that of anyone else.

The night after the Canzeri do, Gray dashed briefly out of his own bash to perform a Drop-By at another affair.

His absence was scarcely noticed by the 150 invited guests. China's Ambassador to Washington, Zhang Wenjin, continued to hold court in one corner, studiously refusing to note the presence of the legendary General Claire Chennault's widow Anna (Chennault was longtime air adviser to the Nationalists). Former Cabinet Officer Richard Schweiker, now head of an insurance trade group, went right on greeting old political friends. After all, like Louis B. Mayer and his famous meetings, Washington's power elite does not attend a party--it takes a party. For that, the presence of the host is hardly necessary.

--By William R. Doerner. Reported by Alessandra Stanley/Washington

With reporting by Alessandra Stanley