TIME: Almanac 1995

home *** CD-ROM | disk | FTP | other *** search

/ TIME: Almanac 1995 / TIME Almanac 1995.iso / time / 041293 / 04129930.000 < prev next >

Wrap

Text File | 1994-03-25 | 9.6 KB | 191 lines

<text id=93TT1425> <title> Apr. 12, 1993: Semper Phooey! </title> <history> TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1993 Apr. 12, 1993 The Info Highway </history> <article> <source>Time Magazine</source> <hdr> DEFENSE, Page 33 Semper Phooey! </hdr> <body> The military fumes at the Commander in Chief; Clinton fights back with charm--and discipline By JILL SMOLOWE--With reporting by Dan Goodgame and Bruce van Voorst/Washington When retired Admiral William Crowe arrived at the Oval Office last Tuesday at 5:30 p.m. for a private meeting with Bill Clinton, he found the President eager to talk. For the next hour and 15 minutes, the two men focused almost exclusively on a single, critical issue: how to change the damaging perception that the nation's Commander in Chief is at odds with his military. According to a White House insider, Crowe offered a two-pronged strategy for handling the balky Pentagon brass and disrespectful rank and file: woo them with charm, but keep them in line with a firm hand. More precisely, Clinton was told, Defense Secretary Les Aspin "has to get tough and make them salute." The meeting was a tacit admission that Clinton's formidable ability to win friends and influence people has fallen flat with the military. Since late January, when Clinton announced his interim policy for lifting the military's ban on homosexuals, matters have been difficult. Mid-level officers and enlisted personnel fume about the Clinton Administration's proposed diet of pay freezes and troop reductions. The top brass grumbles about a lack of respect, noting that no generals or admirals sit on the National Security Council and only two of 45 political positions at the Pentagon have been confirmed. "There's an enormous cultural gap between Clinton and this military," says James Doyle, editorial director of the Army Times. For a military keenly anxious about its shrinking role in the post-cold war era, every presidential gesture is dissected and analyzed, sometimes absurdly so. It grates that Clinton has spent only one weekend at Camp David, the presidential retreat run by the Navy. Military officers charge that Clinton has fewer veterans on his staff than any President in memory. Then there are the rumored slights, both real and imagined: a woman believed to be a member of the White House staff refused to speak to a top aide of Joint Chiefs Chairman Colin Powell (true); Chelsea Clinton refused a military escort (false); Clinton does not intend to use Bethesda Naval Hospital (he has not yet made clear where he will seek medical care). "It's not any one thing that makes us distrust Clinton. It's the accumulation," says a Navy officer. "At a certain point, every little thing starts to be viewed as part of the pattern." As a result, Clinton has launched a campaign to battle the widespread perception that his White House disdains people in uniform. The first line of offense is to smooth relations with the top brass, whose cues set the tone in the ranks. Aides to both Clinton and Powell are working overtime to put out the word that the two men have moved beyond their early differences over the gay issue and now confer several times a week. White House chief of staff Thomas McLarty describes the Clinton-Powell relationship as "very respectful and professional but not in a stuffy way. In a warm way." It helps that Powell, who had threatened to retire early, has agreed to finish his term, which ends Sept. 30. Clinton aides stress that other high-level bonds have been forged. "I spend more time with [Powell deputy] Admiral David Jeremiah than I do with my wife," says a senior Administration official. To reach into the ranks, Clinton is inspecting the troops and mingling in the chow lines. He got off to a shaky start last month, when he boarded the U.S.S. Theodore Roosevelt. Despite his newly polished salute and mastery of rudimentary military jargon, some sailors were unimpressed and said as much to reporters. Last week his charm worked to better effect as he joked with midshipmen at the Naval Academy in Annapolis, Maryland, and spoke warmly about "4,000 of the finest young men and women in this country." In the weeks ahead, he plans to visit the Pentagon, attend a Marine retreat and present a trophy to the Air Force football team. Clinton's strategy involves some aggressive denial and finger pointing. Last week the President insisted that reported White House snubs of military personnel are bunk. "Those kind of stories, they're all just made up out of whole cloth," he told a group of newspaper editors. In response to a question, Clinton accused H. Ross Perot of "rumor-mongering" in spreading the story of a White House staff member's snubbing Army Lieut. General Barry McCaffrey. In an interview with the New York Times, Perot contended that Clinton was in no position to judge the veracity of the story because the President had "ducked" military service. "If he wants to climb into the ring--anytime, anywhere," Perot added. Hints of Clinton's firmer hand with the military are beginning to show. Last week Aspin politely dismissed as inadequate the recommendations of a Powell report on eliminating duplication among the services. In forwarding the report to Congress, Aspin pressed for much tighter streamlining in the areas of air power, ground troops and U.S. contributions to overseas missions. Sensing a shift in course, two renegade Joint Chiefs have issued messages calling for tighter discipline. Air Force Chief of Staff General Merrill McPeak, famed for his irreverent anti-Clinton asides at meetings, warned, "It is time to remind ourselves about core values, including the chain of command that runs from the President right down to our newest airman." Respect, however, cannot be ordered; it must be earned. On that front, Clinton has to climb Hamburger Hill. When a recent Los Angeles Times survey asked 2,300 enlistees how much they respected Clinton, only 37% answered "a great deal" or a "good amount"; 53% said "some" or "hardly at all." "Morale is at an all-time low," says Charles Jackson, who spent 25 years on active duty and is president of the Non-Commissioned Officers Association. "Never have I seen or known of a Commander in Chief who had less popularity among the troops--and that's from the bottom of the enlisted ranks to some of the more senior officers." Among enlistees, the loudest grousing concerns Clinton's proposal to lift the ban on gays. The issue heated up again last week, as the Senate Armed Services Committee held its first round of public hearings on the ban. As with most service personnel, the members of the Senate committee--who seemed more inclined to lecture than listen--have long since made up their minds. Although committee chairman Sam Nunn has been one of the harshest critics of Clinton's proposal, he clearly hopes to find a middle ground that won't leave the military badly divided. The word around the Capitol is that after a spring of hearings, the end result will be the compromise imposed--and hailed again by Nunn last week--of simply not demanding to know a recruit's sexual preference. "It seems to me," said Nunn, "that this issue could be resolved along the lines, `We don't ask any questions, and you don't give any answers.' " At higher levels, the gravest concern is the Administration's proposed defense budget cuts, which total $124 billion over five years, more than double what Clinton projected during the presidential campaign. "We all knew the budget had to come down," says retired Army Lieut. General Calvin Waller, an early Clinton supporter. "But I'd prefer the scalpel to the meat cleaver." Majors and lieutenant colonels who have served up to 15 years fear the cutbacks will dash their chances to earn a star. Up and down the ranks, all are peeved by Clinton's proposed government pay freeze. Last week the military took another hit when congressional negotiators agreed to cut the cost-of-living adjustments of only those federal retirees under the age of 62. If this legislation is passed, the burden will be borne almost entirely by military personnel, who tend to retire at around 50. Officers stand to lose as much as $150,000 after they leave the service. As bad as the current climate is between the White House and the military, Clinton's problems are not unique. "Almost every President has had trouble with the military and the Chiefs," says presidential historian Michael Beschloss. John Kennedy's war-hero status could not protect him from criticism when he refused to provide air cover for the Bay of Pigs landing. Lyndon Johnson's Joint Chiefs threatened a mass resignation over his policy of graduated escalation in Vietnam. And Dwight Eisenhower's five stars provided no cover when he tried to cut the Air Force budget. "When budgets go up, Presidents get along famously," says Beschloss. "When budgets slide, tensions rise." White House officials predict that the strains between Clinton and the military will fade as the two grow more familiar with each other and the dual strategy of charm and tough love kicks in. Beschloss contends that the real test will come when Clinton handles his first international crisis. "If Clinton falters in a crisis," Beschloss warns, "he will irrevocably lose the confidence of the military." After a rocky start, Clinton is determined not to let that happen. </body> </article> </text>