Monday, Aug. 29, 1994
Drilling Bill's Troops
By JAMES CARNEY/WASHINGTON
When congressional leaders met all night last Friday and all day Saturday to cut a deal on the crime bill, only one person was at the table representing the White House: Leon Panetta. As groups of key lawmakers from both parties moved in and out of House majority leader Richard Gephardt's office, Panetta stayed, slashing lines across his yellow legal pad with a blue felt-tip pen as he listened, cajoled and offered concessions. Ever since the House of Representatives dealt a potentially crippling setback to Bill Clinton by killing the crime bill the week before, Panetta had made it clear he would do the negotiating for the President. In a White House famous for its preternatural state of disarray, someone finally seemed to be in charge.
Throughout the week Panetta searched for a compromise that could bring a revised bill to a vote, holding sessions with congressional leaders and setting up phone calls and meetings between the President and key Representatives. Whether the White House would succeed was still unclear Saturday night, though a deal had seemed close since Friday, when Clinton conceded to pressure from Republicans critical of the bill's $33 billion price by offering an across-the-board 10% cut. The proposal could have been called the Panetta solution. A former House Budget Committee chairman, Panetta served as Clinton's Budget Director before taking over as chief of staff two months ago. Instead of haggling endlessly over the details of the bill, Panetta, with the President's blessing, simply shaved it with a meat slicer. And when Republicans wanted still more cuts, Panetta and the Democrats sliced again, eliminating an additional $650 million.
If Congress goes along with the proposal and passes the crime bill, Panetta will deserve much of the credit within the White House for reversing a setback that even he had predicted would not happen. At the very least, Panetta's negotiations last week showed how he was attempting to instill some order into the chaotic White House operation. "For the first time, there's a center to this place," says a top White House aide. "Everything goes through the chief of staff's office. We're much more strategically disciplined." Known for his disarming sense of humor, Panetta can issue the cool rebuff. Says a senior official: "Leon can say no pretty easily."
Panetta's arrival in the spacious chief of staff's office in the southeast corner of the West Wing has not solved all the problems at the Clinton White House. Preoccupation with the crime bill doomed chances that either the House or the Senate would vote on health-care reform before Congress adjourns for what remains of its August recess. In the Senate, where debate on health care last week was tedious and unproductive, a bipartisan group of moderates finally unveiled its proposed bill late Friday, but it was unclear whether it could garner widespread support. Meanwhile, Senate majority leader George Mitchell has yet to collect a majority to back his bill.
With the President's legislative priorities in peril, Panetta has had little choice but to move more slowly in restructuring the White House than was expected when he took over. Panetta succeeded in shoving aside the miscast David Wilhelm at the Democratic National Committee -- something his predecessor Mack McLarty tried but failed to do -- and brought in his old friend Tony Coelho to oversee key D.N.C. operations during the run-up to November's elections. Other anticipated changes have yet to materialize, though speculation about who will replace whom has the staff on edge. "It's rumor du jour around here," sighed a White House official. "It creates a lot of angst." One area where change is all but certain is the communications office. Panetta has talked to Mike McCurry, the State Department's respected spokesman, about moving to the White House to bolster, or replace, Dee Dee Myers, but a top official warns that "it's not a done deal."
Meanwhile, Panetta has made progress in managing those staff members already in place. He reversed the order of morning meetings at the White House, holding a 7:30 session with top advisers before informing the vast dormitory of second-tier aides at 8:15 -- in effect drawing up the day's plan before presenting it to the people who execute it. He has cut way back on the number of typical Clinton gabfests -- meetings without set agendas filled with nonessential people taking up too much of the President's time and indulging his passion for freewheeling discussion. Panetta has also ordered that all decision memos to the President pass through his office, and insisted that no one schedule an appointment with Clinton without his approval. He plans to install his deputy, Phil Lader, in an office outside Clinton's door to control access and paper flow.
The new chief of staff has clipped the wings of that circle of Clinton advisers -- described by a staff member as "free-lancers' row" -- who once operated without job descriptions, roaming from issue to issue. Senior adviser George Stephanopoulos, for example, is no longer "just floating into the Oval Office," according to a top official. Panetta has also circumscribed the role of Clinton's outside political consultants, limiting their access within the White House and ordering them to obtain approval before appearing on television to speak for the President.
Panetta has met with mixed results in an area where he should be strongest: dealing with Congress. The original defeat of the crime bill occurred despite Panetta's intense lobbying, raising questions about whether he relies too heavily on Democratic leaders. And some members of the Congressional Black Caucus question whether Panetta negotiated in good faith on a provision of the bill designed to combat racial discrimination in the meting out of death sentences. On health care, Clinton has suffered through a steady loss of momentum, punctuated by confusing signals from the White House about what the President would settle for. Still, Panetta has the experience to wade into any legislative battle and deal directly with lawmakers. "We speak the same language," explains Barbara Kennelly, a veteran House Democrat. Even Newt Gingrich, the House Republican whip and Clinton nemesis, praised Panetta last week for arranging a meeting between G.O.P. Congressmen and the President on the crime bill.
Clinton himself has said he wants to be less of a Prime Minister leading his own party and more of a President, working above the fray. Elevating Panetta may allow him to do that. But not everyone views Panetta's ties to Congress as an unqualified benefit to the President. Many of Clinton's biggest legislative victories have come in spite of opposition from the Democratic leadership, and some Administration officials are worried that Panetta's ascendance could mark Clinton's submission to the most traditional, and stultified, elements of his own party.
Like Vice President Al Gore, Panetta is viewed as a political peer by Clinton. "When Leon tells him something's not important, Clinton believes it," says an official. Yet it is still unclear whether Panetta, who hardly knew Clinton before becoming Budget Director in January 1993, will succeed in taming the President's renowned lack of discipline for very long.
CHART: NOT AVAILABLE
CREDIT: From a telephone poll of 1,000 adult Americans taken for TIME/CNN on Aug. 17-18 by Yankelovich Partners Inc. Sampling error is plus or minus 3% Not Sures omitted
CAPTION: Do you think it's likely that Congress will pass a health-care-reform bill this year?
With reporting by Laurence I. Barrett, Michael Duffy and Julie Johnson/Washington