The Presidency

By Hugh Sidey

The only thing dumber than the questions about taking over the presidency in an emergency ("What would be the first steps you would take?") was Dan Quayle's failure to point out just how dumb it was.

There is no meaningful answer. The combinations of events in possible tragedies are infinite and unpredictable; the rituals of Cabinet and NSC meetings, addresses to the Congress and the American people that must follow a transfer of power are an automatic part of the system. A President could not avoid doing these things, even if he wanted to.

Quayle's first instinct to avoid answering a "hypothetical" question was right. He simply lacked the presence of mind and the knowledge to squelch that hoary journalistic dog. What did the reporters have in mind -- a President dying of a lingering illness, downed by a terrorist missile in Air Force One over the Mediterranean, resigning because of scandal? A Vice President's response would be different in each situation.

Lyndon Johnson in Dallas acted first to thwart a possible plot against the traveling party, comforted Jacqueline Kennedy, took the oath and roared back to Washington. There was nothing brilliant about these acts of common sense clearly defined by the demands of the moment.

Harry Truman was presiding over the Senate when Franklin Roosevelt died in Warm Springs, Ga. After Eleanor Roosevelt gave him the news, his first question was "Is there anything I can do for you?" He called a Cabinet meeting, asked each member to remain in the job, promised that there would be continuity with F.D.R.'s policies, but stressed that he would be making his own decisions.

Jerry Ford was almost an afterthought in the Watergate trauma that expelled Richard Nixon. During the hours preceding his presidency, Ford was counseled in the shadows by White House staff, Cabinet officers and Nixon himself. Ford simply moved across West Executive Avenue to the Oval Office and worried about the tone of his first message to the country.

When Ronald Reagan went into surgery for cancer of the colon, he assigned his powers temporarily to George Bush, who stayed home and did absolutely nothing notable for eight hours.

Dan Quayle, with minimal wit and study, could have said he would move into the Oval Office comfortable in the knowledge that he believed in Bush's policies, something Bentsen could not do in that debate. But Quayle said nothing of the kind. He instead repeated a preprogrammed answer about his experience and his familiarity with those who would surround Bush. In doing so, Quayle proved again that he was a Bush mistake, though not the disaster critics suggested, and possibly trainable for better things.