Return of the Lions

By STANLEY W. CLOUD/WASHINGTON

Call it democracy. Call it anarchy. Call it gridlock. Call it another lesson in Governing 101 for Bill Clinton, now in the fifth month of his increasingly troubled presidency. Whatever it's called, the skirmishing between Clinton and Congress over the President's proposed deficit-reduction and tax plan threatened to erupt into all-out war last week as Republicans and several Democrats in both the House and Senate publicly attacked the proposal. If the Clinton package still has a fair chance of eventually passing in one form or another, that is less a tribute to the White House's political acumen than to the internal and external forces that make Congress the great, gaudy institution it is. As Republican Senator Alan Simpson put it, looking ahead to more fights yet over the upcoming Clinton health-care reform package, "It's what we used to call in football 'gut-check time.' "

This latest tussle was easily the most significant legislative debate so far in the 103rd Congress. At stake was the President's proposal, which Congress has approved in broad outline, to slice the deficit $496 billion with a blend of spending cuts and tax hikes. But as the revolt on Capitol Hill gained momentum, several alternative plans were put forth, both formally and informally, that had at least three things in common: they sought to minimize the tax bite, maximize budget cuts and reflect the mood of the voters, of which Congress is the all-time champion bellwether. And in Congress the word is that the voters most of all want the deficit reduced and their health-care system reformed, and to those ends are even willing to pay more taxes -- provided government spending is truly curtailed.

In the House of Representatives, where three-fifths of the seats are held by Democrats, a vote scheduled for this week seemed likely to go the President's way, despite the apostasy of such Democrats as Tim Penny of Minnesota, Charles Stenholm of Texas and Dave McCurdy of Oklahoma, who opposed an energy tax and said they favored an amendment that would cap spending on entitlements such as Social Security and Medicare. With Clinton enjoying the support of House Speaker Tom Foley and Ways and Means Committee chairman Dan Rostenkowski, however, and with the nearly ironclad protection of House rules discouraging amendments from the floor, most insiders thought the House rebellion could be contained.

Indeed the biggest fear of House Democrats loyal to Clinton was that they may vote for the President's plan, only to see it defeated -- and themselves | embarrassed -- by a later, negative vote in the Senate. That happened a few weeks ago with Clinton's $19.5 billion economic stimulus package, and a similar outcome for the tax bill is possible. "The Senate," says Representative John Dingell of Detroit, "has the same procedural rules as you would find on Monkey Island in the San Francisco zoo." Moreover, the Senate has only 14 more Democrats than Republicans, and, on the crucial Senate Finance Committee, the Democrats control only 11 of the 20 seats.

In the battle over taxes and spending, as well as the upcoming battle over health care and other issues, a handful of Senators now holds the keys to success or failure for Clinton in his first year in office. This pride of new Senate lions differs substantially from the Lyndon Johnsons and Everett Dirksens of the past. With one exception, the new breed are committee chairmen rather than members of the formal leadership (which was all but reformed out of business a couple of decades ago). In cutting deals, the modern lions rely as much on suasion as brute political force, and when they have to fight dirty, they prefer the stiletto to brass knuckles. They are policy mavens who can match any calculator-toting Administration whiz kid, statistic for statistic and program for program. They command personal respect even in an institution crowded with overweening White House wannabes. And they have a far deeper and more sophisticated understanding of Washington and its folkways than most of Clinton's West Wing staff put together.

What makes these legislators even more powerful than they otherwise might be are Clinton's declining approval ratings and the growing feeling on Capitol Hill that there is no reason to fear the President. The names of the most prominent lions are as familiar as the headlines in which they appear, and at least two are already looking ahead to 1996. They include:

Robert Dole. The once stolid, sardonic and brooding Senate minority leader has seemed positively giddy since Clinton moved into the White House. Dole has never before enjoyed the luxury of being minority leader against a Democratic President -- and he clearly likes the work. To be sure, the President has yet to make it difficult for him. Last month Clinton's decision to stick with his own so-called economic stimulus package, instead of an alternative proposal suggested by key Senate Democrats on the Finance Committee, made it possible for Dole to unify all his 43 Republicans behind a filibuster that led to a humiliating Administration defeat.

"You certainly have more freedom if your party's not in the White House," said Dole last week. "When Bush was President, I got to carry those big, heavy buckets sent up from the White House. But I never got to splash any water. Now I see ((Senate majority leader George)) Mitchell carrying the buckets, and he's getting round shoulders." Meanwhile, Dole could sit back, enjoy the show and, in spite of his 69 years, entertain thoughts of running for President again.

David Boren. Thorn-of-the-moment in Clinton's side, Boren, a conservative Democrat who represents the oil state of Oklahoma on the Senate Finance Committee, led last week's bipartisan Senate revolt against the Administration's tax plan. At a press conference he and three fellow rebels -- Democrat Bennett Johnston of Louisiana and Republicans John Danforth of Missouri and William Cohen of Maine -- unveiled a plan of their own. The so- called Boren-Danforth amendment features lower taxes and more spending cuts than the President's proposal, as well as a cap on entitlements spending. The Boren-Danforth bill would also completely eliminate Clinton's energy levy -- the so-called BTU tax. Altogether, the plan would raise taxes $122 billion less than Clinton's proposal and would cut spending $163 billion more. Over five years, it would reduce the deficit $542 billion, compared with $496 billion under the Administration's plan.

When the soft-spoken Boren opposes something, people listen. Senators James Exon and Bob Kerrey, both Democrats from Nebraska, said they backed the "basic thrust" of his plan. Still, a number of putative dissidents -- notably John Breaux of Louisiana and Kent Conrad of North Dakota -- declined to sign on to the amendment. Thus while Boren may be able to muster enough Democratic votes to join with Republicans in forcing Clinton to change his plan, there is little chance that the Boren-Danforth proposal can pass. Said Treasury Secretary Lloyd Bentsen, a former chairman of the Senate Finance Committee: "The Boren-Danforth amendment will never make it out of the Finance Committee." What it could do, however, is be a starting point for negotiations. One possible compromise would be to substitute a gasoline tax -- unpopular as that would be in the West -- for a BTU tax. In any case, Boren predicted last week that "the BTU tax is dead."

Daniel Moynihan. Having succeeded Bentsen as Finance Committee chairman, Moynihan, the former Harvard professor who was a "new Democrat" while Bill Clinton was still in Yale Law School, has fired a few broadsides of his own at the Clinton White House. Now, though, he may be able to help salvage the President's deficit-reduction package. Moynihan is passionately opposed to entitlement caps, and charges that the Boren-Danforth amendment would cut the "earned benefits" of more than 15 million Social Security recipients.

The Democrat from New York has pledged to see that the President's bill is passed. "We have to get together on this," he says, "since the Administration has so much at stake." It will be Moynihan's job to get the bill through his committee. If he cannot, he and majority leader Mitchell will probably try to bring the bill, perhaps with compromises on taxation and spending, to the Senate floor anyway.

Sam Nunn. Not a major player in the deficit-reduction debate, the good gray Nunn, chairman of the Armed Services Committee, has nonetheless given Clinton fits on the gays-in-the-military issue and believes the President is trying to cut too much, too fast out of the defense budget. Nunn, a Georgian, still harbors the thought of being called Mr. President one day. Some say his dogged opposition to the lifting of the ban on gays in the military -- even if all sides seem to be heading toward a compromise on that issue -- was fueled mainly by pique at being passed over by Clinton for Secretary of State. But that misses the essence of Nunn, who sees himself not merely as a dispenser of funds or a legislative traffic cop but as a benign steward of the military.

As more items on Clinton's lengthy wish list of proposals work their way through Congress, other legislators will enjoy their moments in the spotlight. Republican John Chafee of Rhode Island, for example, will play a major role when the Administration's much discussed health-care reform package finally makes its debut later this summer. And on any number of issues, Senator Bob Kerrey, one of Clinton's opponents for the Democratic nomination last year, is busy establishing himself as the newest Democrat of all.

The best way for Clinton to minimize the influence of congressional lions is to try to build Capitol Hill constituencies early and pay close attention to congressional prerogatives and sensitivities. As Dole advises from his sunny balcony, "If you really want cooperation ((from Congress)), don't bypass us until you suddenly need us." In other words, Bill Clinton must learn to pet the lions if he doesn't want them to bite.

With reporting by Michael Duffy, Elaine Shannon and Nancy Traver/Washington