L.B.J.'s Changed Role

Favor seekers still wait in the anteroom of Capitol Suite P-38. Secretary Mary Margaret Wiley still decorates a corner. In the cavernous inner office, known to many Capitol Hill denizens as the Throne Room, the lights on the telephone console still flicker on and off as Democratic Senate leaders call to report on the latest state of legislative affairs. Everything seems the same; yet nothing really is, for the past 13 months have seen a profound change in the life of Vice President Lyndon Baines Johnson.

When Johnson was sworn in as Vice President in January 1961, two predictions were freely made: 1) he would continue to run the Senate much as he had during his eight years as its Democratic floor leader, and 2) he would get little attention from President John Kennedy, whose chief rival he had been at the 1960 Democratic nominating convention. Both predictions have turned out to be almost completely wrong.

Out of It. As Vice President, Johnson presides over the Senate--but he certainly does not run it. His influence over Senate affairs has been on the wane ever since the first Democratic conference under the New Frontier. At that meeting, new Majority Leader Mike Mansfield proposed that Vice President Johnson continue in his post as presiding officer of meetings of the Senate Democratic conference. A group of Democrats, including Tennessee's Albert Gore and Oklahoma's Mike Monroney, protested that it meant an invasion by the executive branch.

In the bitter debate that followed, Mansfield threatened to resign if Johnson was not elected, and on that personal basis the motion was carried. But 17 Democrats voted against it-- and Lyndon Johnson knows a slap in the face when he feels one. Since then he has attended Democratic conferences with decreasing frequency, presided only long enough to call the meetings to order and turn the gavel over to Mansfield. Says a Democratic Senator of Lyndon's legislative role: "As Mansfield's grip tightens, Lyndon is more and more out of it." But if L.BJ.'s Senate influence has lessened, his executive branch activities have steadily increased. Last week, with N.A.A.C.P. Executive Secretary Roy Wilkins at his side, Johnson summoned news men to his office, announced that the Administration would step up its efforts to end racial discrimination by unions and Southern industries. Johnson made that announcement as chairman of the President's Committee on Equal Employment Opportunity; he also heads the National Aeronautics and Space Council and is chairman of the Peace Corps advisory board. Beyond President Kennedy himself and top White House Aide Ted Sorensen, Johnson is the only Administration official who regularly attends Cabinet meetings, National Security Council sessions, the weekly White House conference with legislative leaders and the briefings before presidential press conferences. He has acted as the President's personal representative on missions to Africa, to Southeast Asia, to Sweden for Dag Hammarskjold's funeral, and to Berlin just after the East Germans threw up the Wall.

Into It. President Kennedy is tireless in his efforts to keep Lyndon busy--and happy. His White House business conferences are studded with the prefatory remark, "Lyndon and I think . . . " or "The Vice President says ..." Yet Lyndon Johnson still has his moments of frustration. He was indignant when the Secret Service denied him the right to travel on the same plane with the President on a political trip to the West Coast last November. He was privately furious when denied a dramatic return direct from Berlin to Hyannisport to report to the President; throughout the night, his plane kept requesting permission to land at Hyannis; the White House kept directing it to proceed to Washington.

More recently, when Secretary of State Dean Rusk returned from the Punta del Este conference, the White House hurriedly summoned congressional leaders to hear Rusk report. Johnson was inadvertently left off the invitation list. He heard of it, and within moments a Johnson aide was on the telephone to the White House: "Is it correct that Secretary Rusk is going to be there right away?" The heavyhanded hint got across; Johnson was promptly invited to attend the session.

In going out of his way to please and placate Johnson, the President is not merely trying to smooth ruffled feathers.

Ever since his own Senate days, Kennedy has had a professional respect for Johnson's aggressive, shrewd political ability (it was one good reason why Johnson was lassoed into the vice-presidential nomination). And the President knows that a contented Johnson is a political asset.

Said Kennedy, at a banquet last month: "The merger of Boston and Austin was one of the last that the Attorney General allowed, but it has been one of the most successful."

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