The Political Interest

By Michael Kramer

Earl Weaver, the former Baltimore Orioles manager, was famous for an off- color vocabulary even a Hell's Angel might envy. When he was particularly upset with an unfavorable call, however, Weaver would stow the four-letter words and calmly ask the offending umpire, "Are you going to get any better, % or is this it?" The same question (and the identical implied answer) could be asked of Bill Clinton when it comes to the President's feeble and often feckless foreign policy. In fact, experts have been asking it for months, but "it's getting heavy now," concedes a senior Administration official. "All the polls show it. Real people are getting real nervous. The perception of ineptitude is growing. The public doesn't like foreigners' thinking the President is out of his depth. Americans don't like being embarrassed. It's hurting the President's overall job-approval ratings, and it'll continue hurting unless something's done about it."

But what? How about a sacrifice? Unlike baseball managers, Presidents can't be fired until the next election. In politics, it's the appointed players who go. Soon that player may be Warren Christopher. Friends and associates of the Secretary of State are quietly discussing his possible departure, hints of which can be found in last week's statements from the Middle East. During Christopher's latest diplomatic shuttle between Israel and Syria, the guarded descriptions of progress contained a caveat. Both Jerusalem and Damascus, U.S. officials said, want Christopher even more involved as the "honest broker" in their negotiations. "Now, what if that's ratchetted up?" asks a Clinton adviser. "What if a comprehensive peace is seen to require Chris' full-time attention and he becomes our special Middle East envoy? Or maybe he can get some declaration of principles signed and just walk off. Either way, he could save face and claim a legacy, right?"

As trial balloons go, this one has more air than most. But who would replace Christopher? Five people are mentioned by those familiar with the Administration's desire to project a new certitude abroad. From among the current insiders are Deputy Secretary of State Strobe Talbott, an intellectually gifted friend of the President's; and National Security Adviser Tony Lake, who appears to have the greatest day-to-day influence on Clinton when the subject is foreign affairs. The question, though, is whether anyone from the present roster would be seen as a credible "agent of change," to borrow a favorite Clinton phrase. Leading the list of new-blood types from outside the inner circle:

LEE HAMILTON. Despite his reputation as a dispassionate analyst, the House Foreign Affairs Committee chairman has at times blasted Clinton's weak performance abroad. On Haiti, for example: "We don't know what the policy is, but we know what kind of underwear ((Clinton)) wears." Cracks like that one can't endear him to the President. But Hamilton "would bring some professionalism to the amateur hour around here," says a State Department official. "If we'd changed our refugee policy on Lee's watch, you can bet there would have been some interim way of dealing with the Haitian boat people before we got the new procedures in place. We wouldn't be turning people back and looking ridiculous. After all, the reason for our change is that those we've sent back so far are being brutalized when they're returned."

WALTER MONDALE. The former Vice President and current U.S. ambassador to Japan is a cool, straight-talking pol. During his losing race against Ronald Reagan in 1984, Mondale resisted promising what he knew or suspected he couldn't deliver. Clinton needs to learn what Mondale seems to know instinctively: disaster haunts those whose rhetoric doesn't match reality. On North Korea, a Mondale-inspired policy would probably avoid any further "public blue-skying about U.S. options," says Leslie Gelb, president of the Council on Foreign Relations. "What's needed there now is a forthright expression of our goal -- the denuclearization of the Korean peninsula; an articulated willingness to trade improved relations and economic assistance as the means to get the North to play ball; a sternly delivered reminder that we stand by our pledge to defend the South -- with the specifics left purposely vague; and then an intense but completely private diplomacy." For tasks like those, Mondale fills the bill. He is exceptionally well disciplined and has the standing to ensure that everyone reads from the same script -- and shuts up when told to.

COLIN POWELL. The former Joint Chiefs chairman is a long shot, but he would bring instant credibility and remove a possible 1996 rival to the President. Powell is as risk-averse to military adventures as Clinton is, but that could be a strength. Given his background and especially his command of Desert Storm, Powell alone may possess the stature necessary to make diplomacy work when the President's primary objective is to avoid the use of force.

A shift at State may be clever and helpful, but in diplomacy as well as in baseball, it's the manager who sets the tone. The players can make the President look good, but only if he sets the goals and pursues them resolutely. If he doesn't, the losses, both real and perceived, will mount. Before long, that weakness could spark a crisis that dwarfs Bosnia, Somalia and Haiti -- a crisis that the evidence so far indicates Clinton would bungle miserably.