Tactical Considerations

Once assembled, the new team had to devise a strategy that exploited their opportunity. Speed, focus, and maintaining momentum with a series of wins were obvious tactics.^[50] Former OMB Director Caspar Weinberger, formerly Reagan's budget director in California, and secretary of HEW for Nixon, led a transition team that was also busily drawing

up lists of cuts. The minority (soon to be majority) staff of the Senate Budget Committee as well as numerous lesser party officials were also making lists and checking them twice. Weinberger, following the campaign line that the House Democrats challenged with their Second Budget Resolution, wanted cuts in FY81.^[51] Stephen E. Bell, staff director for SBC, was more interested in quick action on FY82. "You can kiss it goodby," he commented, "if you let it go past three or four months. If you get down the road and Senators are getting a ration of grief from people whose benefits would be cut, then you've lost it. Suicide is just as unpleasant for Republicans as for Democrats."^[52] Everybody agreed on the need for speed.

Stockman suggested that spending cuts be attached to the debt-ceiling raise that would,have to be passed in February, thus bypassing the Democratic-controlled committees in the House. But Howard Baker, the new Senate majority leader, warned him that riders work only on bills that people want to pass, saying "you'll pick up all the enemies of the debt ceiling without gaining any new friends."^[53] Stockman dropped that idea, though it returned many times, garbed finally as Gramm-Rudman. The Senate Budget Committee, particularly Chairman Domenici and Staff Director Bell, convinced Senate leadership and then the administration to use reconciliation on the first resolution, as the Democrats had in 1980, to package cuts and move them quickly.

The administration took a series of steps to ensure its own bureaucracy did not resist cuts. The administration's personnel operation made sure that appointees below cabinet level were committed to Reagan's political philosophy. Carter-era employees were booted out even when no replacement was available. "We felt an empty office was better than to have a holdover," explained Ed Meese.^[54] Frequent cabinet meetings were held, in Elizabeth Drew's words, to "make sure that the Secretaries were 'aboard' on the President's proposals to cut spending, and to make it clear at whose pleasure they served."^[55] Advised by conservative task forces before they went into their department, secretaries participated in economic briefings with Reagan before becoming involved with their own particular business. Then, while the package of reductions was being devised, cabinet members had to support their positions—not just to Stockman but also to panels of critics, such as Martin Anderson and Murray Weidenbaum. Some more experienced cabinet members, like Richard Schweicker at Health and Human Services and Alexander Haig at the State Department, were able to win a few battles in that setting, but more often they lost.^[56]

Reagan personally lobbied the people he had to win over. Having run against the government, Carter had tried to govern like an outsider.

Reagan realized that he could treat members of Congress as fellow insiders yet, when he spoke to the public, adopt an antigovernment rhetoric. Precisely because the Washington world was not the same as the one outside, the public would not notice or care much if Reagan went to the Hill, greeted as fellows the same legislators whom he was blasting, and invited them to Camp David. Members were used to similar behavior, so they saw no hypocrisy. Reagan and his staff strove to build a reservoir of personal goodwill that might help win the undecided. Before he took office, he went to the Capitol to greet legislators and to Washington parties to meet such movers and shakers as Katherine Graham of the Washington Post and Newsweek . Reagan later used those social contacts to ask for help.

In putting together its program, the administration faced two substantive problems with tactical implications. First was "fairness": how to cut spending and programs without seeming to pick only on the vulnerable. Everyone knew that most money was in giant programs—old-age, medicare, and social security—that were vital to a large group of voters and popular with everyone. If those programs were not attacked, most of the burden would have to fall on either the means-tested programs or business subsidies. To choose the former would mean taking from the most vulnerable; choosing the latter would anger the administration's political base. Because poor people paid little in taxes, save for social security, Kemp-Roth was likely to do them less good than the spending cuts did harm. The logic of the situation resulted in a package that focused on people near the poverty line. The administration, of course, would argue vehemently that a revitalized economy would help everybody. Perhaps, but those results lay in the future while programs would be cut in the present.^[57] Given this inevitable disparity, the administration had to minimize, rationalize, or limit its political importance by making other factors more salient to debate.

For Carter, budget reductions had been a sad necessity. For Reagan, they were a principle. Therefore, Reagan wanted to cut in ways that would permanently decrease pressure to spend, such as either abolishing programs and their bureaucracies or eliminating federal support for interest groups, such as poverty lawyers, that might fight for further spending. Naturally, permanent cuts are more difficult than temporary cuts, preferred by moderates who disliked deficits but liked programs. In fact, the permanence of cuts was the hidden stake in many subsequent spending battles.

Above all, Reagan's most vital priority, the big tax cut, made his own party uncomfortable. He had to calm worries about deficits and promote considerations like party loyalty that would keep Republicans together.

Then he needed some Democratic votes; the administration would be helped by their opponents' troubles.

The Democrats

Senate Democrats were in the minority; they could only hope that the Senate's traditional bipartisanship in budgeting would leave them with some influence. That tradition, however, had been built upon the cooperation of Ed Muskie and Henry Bellmon, neither of whom was now in the Senate, and on a Democratic majority large enough so that it could be expected to prevail in a pinch but fractious enough that Republicans felt they were in a position to deal at the margins. In 1980, even a Democratic Senate kept pushing for defense hikes, social spending reductions, and tax relief. The replacement of twelve largely liberal Democrats with twelve largely conservative Republicans shifted the Senate's balance further to the right. In such a situation, only strong leadership and near unanimity could give Democrats much bargaining power, but those were the last things anyone could expect.

The center of Democratic resistance would have to be in the House of Representatives. Tip O'Neill had been a fairly successful partisan leader. In 1981, however, he would not only have fewer troops but also limited choices of weapons. The Speaker often exploited his control of procedure, either through the Rules Committee, or scheduling, or his relations with committee heads. Given the election and the economy, he could not use his full power. A fair, or even a slightly rigged, fight would be okay, but some such standard obstructing tactics as delaying votes or refusing to report legislation would make the party look like it was defying democracy while playing games with the fate of the economy. Throughout the coming struggle, Democrats in the House would have to ensure that the press did not, in the Speaker's words, "quibble about dragging our feet."^[58]

That left the Speaker to lead by persuasion and a bit of procedure. Because Republicans had never voted for Democratic budgets before, O'Neill could expect few if any Republican supporters. If the GOP united, defection by twenty-six of his own troops would mean defeat.

Unfortunately for the liberal O'Neill, his troops included about forty boll weevils, a group of distinctly conservative, cotton-state Democrats. These weevils were in a position of excruciating delicacy, fraught with danger and opportunity. Because power in the House was normally associated with committee positions and because committee positions were determined by the Speaker and the Democratic caucus, a member who defied his colleagues too often was unlikely to win many plums.

The leadership emphasized party loyalty in appointments to the most powerful committees—Rules, Ways and Means, and Appropriations.

Suddenly in 1981 the Speaker needed the boll weevils as much as they needed him. Representative Charles Stenholm of Texas organized his colleagues in a "Conservative Democratic Forum" to lobby for their preferences, bargaining with both O'Neill and the White House. In December, Guy Vanderjagt (R-Mich.), a Republican leader, was exploring a coalition of Republicans and conservative Democrats to organize the House. Although that was highly unlikely, the prospect did increase the leverage of Stenholm and his colleagues. In search of better treatment, they met with O'Neill and Majority Leader Jim Wright (D-Tex.).

O'Neill and Wright tried to win over the weevils by meeting many of their demands. When O'Neill expanded the Steering and Policy Committee (the main party organization) from twenty-four to thirty-one members, he appointed three Conservative Democratic Forum members to the new slots. Conservatives got some other plum appointments. Stockman's friend, Phil Gramm, won a place on Budget after leading Jim Wright to believe that, while advocating his own views, he would support the committee product.^[59]

Stenholm praised the Speaker's "good job in accommodating the interests of our party and being fair to everyone."^[60] But that did not ensure the boll weevils' loyalty on budget matters. With his Republican majority in the Senate, the president was in a far better position than House leaders to deal on policy because Reagan could deliver if he won in the House. Many southern Democrats also felt conservative political pressures in their districts.^[61] Because many boll weevils' districts still held residual Democratic loyalties and had weak (if any) Republican organizations, party switching was risky. And if the conservatives backed Reagan yet kept their Democratic identification, they risked being in the position, as Ralph Hall of Texas worried, "whereby if the GOP holds the House in 1983 they won't need us. If the Democrats hold the House, they won't want us."^[62] Perhaps the best possible outcome for the boll weevils would be for them to win concessions from both sides, followed by a 1982 election that maintained the status quo and thus their own pivotal position.

The House Democratic leadership could only try to put itself in a good position for bargaining; O'Neill's bows to the boll weevils were one step in that direction. The second step, selecting chairs for Ways and Means and Budget, would be central in the coming dispute. Al Ulmann's defeat put Dan Rostenkowski of Chicago next in line to chair Ways and Means, but "Rosty," a close ally of the Speaker, was also in line for John Brademas's spot as majority whip. His choice of the Ways and Means post served both his and the Speaker's interests. Rostenkowski got a

position of great formal power and independence. O'Neill could hope that the pragmatic Rostenkowski would be able to find allies, among boll weevils and more moderate Republicans, for a Democratic, alternative tax proposal.

The Budget chair was more problematic; each of the two major candidates had disadvantages. David Obey, as chair of the Democratic Study Group, was a leading liberal and the Speaker's ally in the 1980 battles. He was also abrasive, with many enemies (including Rostenkowski), and could not be expected to win over the party's right wing. His rival, James Jones of Oklahoma, chaired the Democratic Research Organization, a group of moderate to conservative Democrats. As a former chief of staff to Lyndon Johnson and successful Democratic campaigner in an extremely Republican district, Jones obviously was an adroit politician, although, like Obey, he lacked the backslapping touch of, say, the Speaker. Unlike Obey, Jones had real problems with liberals like the Speaker and Rules Chairman Bolling. He won his seat on the Budget Committee in 1979 against their wishes. They distrusted Jones because of his policies: he wanted bigger tax breaks for business, endorsed a statutory limit on federal spending, and clearly favored spending cuts. Jones had sponsored the big business tax cuts in 1978, beating the party leaders. He worked closely with business lobbyists, who helped him survive in his ultraconservative Tulsa district because, as one told us, "he was our leader on the tax side." Rostenkowski preferred Jones to Obey at Budget, not because of any love for Jones, but to stop Obey and keep Jones preoccupied, away from the tax fights. The battle then was between two extremely able but flawed members, each with strong supporters. A third candidate, liberal Paul Simon of Illinois, was eliminated on the first ballot within the caucus; on the second, they deadlocked at 118 votes each. On the third, Jones won, 121 to 116.^[63] This left Democrats with a budget chairman whose relations with the Speaker were rather dicey but who had some chance to keep the boll weevils on board.

The ascensions of Jones and Rostenkowski made a policy of damage control more likely than confrontation. Both would work hard to cut a deal with the Republicans that would protect Democratic preferences. The choice of Jones in particular shaped the terms of the spending debate. With a fiscal conservative leading the Democrats, Reagan was bound to get, at least in dollars, much of what he wanted.

Many liberals expected to lose. Toby Moffett of Connecticut believed that the Republicans and conservative Democrats would have a "majority coalition" on many issues.^[64] Another liberal commented that "we shouldn't spend time nickel-nursing around the edges. We don't have the votes."^[65] Jones naturally was more optimistic, predicting "a broad coalition of moderates from both parties who want to get us on the road

to economic recovery."^[66] If Jones were right, he and Rostenkowski would blunt the president's attack, limit the tax cut, and bring spending policy closer to Democratic ideals of equity. Domestic spending cuts would be smaller but so would defense increases and tax reductions. If Jones were wrong, the Democratic party would sit still for cuts in their programs, but they would get no credit for reducing the deficit as tax decreases and a rise in defense overwhelmed their sacrifice. The Reagan revolution might cure some ills, if successful, but the deficit was not likely to be among them.