The real business of the White House is accomplished in small meetings, usually in the Oval Office. For advice, presidents turn to people they trust, not to bureaucracies.
The most heavily relied upon advisers, generally, are those who have been with the President in the trenches of electoral politics. Travelling together, planning, taking fire and returning it, tending each other’s wounds and, finally, winning — these shared experiences teach the candidate who can think clearly under pressure, who can get things done and who can be trusted.
When this team comes off the road the personal bonds are tighter than anything that can be depicted or even hinted at in an organisational chart.
Proximity is also a major determinant of power in the White House.
To help President Reagan turn his ideas into realities, I needed control of the staff working with Congress on our legislative agenda, looking after the President’s political interests, getting out the message (the press office and speechwriters), scheduling the President’s time, advancing his events and managing the operation of the White House.
I took the large office traditionally occupied by the chief of staff, just down the hall and around a corner from the Oval Office in the southwest corner of the west wing. My quarters were not as finely appointed as others, nor was the view as good, but they fulfilled my prime objective: I wanted space where I could host, and therefore run, staff meetings.
President Reagan, by the way, also appreciated that when it comes to offices at least, size matters.
When he turned 70 on February 6, 1981, the White House staff held a surprise party for him in my office. We were just past two weeks after the inauguration and the President had not yet been down the hall to see where I worked. “Jim,” he said, “this is a big office.” Then, with the timing of a great actor, he added: “But it’s not round!”
I was also responsible for controlling and co-ordinating all in-and-out paper flow to the President and all presidential schedules and appointments. Except in emergencies, Cabinet members were asked to request appointments with the President 24 hours ahead.
Ed Meese (counsellor to the President) and I could walk into the Oval Office at virtually any time. This meant we were usually present when the President talked to Cabinet members and other dignitaries. It also meant that I could walk in when Ed met with the President, and he could walk in when I was in the Oval Office. The President, of course, had the right to keep us out, but I don’t think that ever happened.
What did happen, however, is that Ed and I sometimes met privately with the President, without the other’s knowledge.
A popular myth about the first Reagan Administration is that I blocked Ed’s efforts to persuade the President to push legislation on school prayer, bussing, abortion and other social issues. That simply wasn’t true. Even before taking office, the President had stated clear goals for the first year — to reduce taxes, cut the rate of growth in government spending and strengthen the US military. We recognised that he would enjoy a brief honeymoon with Congress and the American people. This was the time to push the core Reagan agenda.
President Clinton would later get his Administration off on the wrong foot by raising the issue of gays in the military before he had built a consensus for his legislative programme. If President Reagan had immediately introduced legislation on controversial social issues, he would almost certainly have weakened — possibly even destroyed — support for his all-important tax, spending and defence initiatives. At least that’s how he felt, and he was right.
One of my major responsibilities was to protect the President. The chief of staff is, among other things, a catcher of javelins aimed at the President by political adversaries, by the press and — surprisingly, perhaps — by members of his own political party. Those last kind come in from close range and are usually unexpected.
I also had to protect the President from traps, and one of the surest signs of one being laid was the apparently innocent “Oh, by the way, Mr. Presi- dent . . .” They usually sounded in the doorway at the end of a Cabinet meeting or a meeting with lawmakers. Someone would linger a bit then pretend to have an afterthought. “Oh, by the way, Mr. President, my brother-in-law Fred would make a great appointee for the Rutabaga (yellow turnip)Commission.” Or “ How about supporting my Bill to help mass transit in Houston?” Maybe the petitioner was a friend or political supporter. Maybe he hoped the President was too tired to resist, or that the President would agree to avoid ending a positive meeting on a negative note. Whatever was going on, however, this was obviously not the way decisions should be made. My job was to grab an elbow, say, “We’ll be happy to look at Fred’s resumé (or your pet legislation) and get back to you,” and escort Trapper John out the door.
Reprinted from Work Hard, Study...and Keep Out of Politics!: Adventures and Lessons from an Unexpected Public Life (Hardcover) by James A Baker III With Steve Fiffer with permission of G.P. Putnam's Son's, a member of the Penguin Group, Inc.(USA). Copyright (c) 2006 by James Baker lll.
