‘Honest Broker’ Is Sought to Be Clinton’s Staff Chief

Of all the personnel decisions President-elect Bill Clinton faces, none may determine the success of his Administration more than his choice of a White House chief of staff.

But in contrast to the crowds of potential appointees jostling for Cabinet jobs, many around Clinton say there is a thin supply of credible candidates to serve as his right-hand in the White House. “There definitely isn’t an obvious person at this point,” says one insider.

Although no one knows who Clinton will select for the job, many see clues emerging in the way he appears to be defining the position--a definition that sharply departs from the pattern prevailing under his two Republican predecessors. While Ronald Reagan and George Bush allowed strong chiefs of staff enormous freedom to operate almost as deputy presidents, Clinton--a far more assertive manager--appears to be looking instead for an “honest broker” who knits together a wide range of advisers, many around him say.

With that job description in mind, speculation in the Clinton camp about the White House’s top job is increasingly focusing on the discreet and reserved man now directing the transition: Los Angeles lawyer Warren Christopher. “Christopher has positioned himself well to be chief of staff if he wants it--and he may,” says one senior figure in the transition effort.

Although Christopher publicly forswore interest in a permanent Administration job when Clinton named him transition director--and previously had seemed most interested in serving as secretary of state--some colleagues believe he would not reject an offer from Clinton to head the White House staff.

Before he picks his chief, Clinton faces significant decisions about the structure of the White House. From his transition team he has received a thick briefing book on how other presidents organized their staffs. Next week, Clinton is expected to announce a “cluster group” that will examine the White House’s operation--and provide recommendations on his pledge to reduce the staff in the Executive Office of the President by 25%.

In recent articles, Jack Valenti and Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr., both of whom worked in the White House for Democratic presidents during the 1960s, each urged Clinton to dump the chief of staff position, arguing it has tended in recent times to isolate presidents. In its place, they maintained, he should rely on a system where a broad range of aides have virtually unrestricted access--the so-called spokes of the wheel model employed by Franklin D. Roosevelt, and to some extent by Jimmy Carter at the outset of his Administration.

But most experts counseling Clinton, including Christopher, believe such a system condemns a President to submersion in minutiae. “You can’t operate like that because you run the risk of being nibbled to death by a lot of secondary and tertiary issues,” says Elaine Kamarck, a senior fellow at the Progressive Policy Institute, a Washington-based think tank with close ties to Clinton.

Even so, the Arkansas governor’s record suggests that he is unlikely to allow his chief of staff to become the sole bridge between the Oval Office and the outside world, as Reagan and Bush generally did.

In Arkansas, Clinton redefined the chief of staff job for his gubernatorial Administration depending on the qualities of the person sitting in the chair. Betsey Wright, for instance, who served as his chief of staff from 1983-90, had more freedom to make decisions than either of the men who bracketed her tenure.

But one constant was that Clinton did not want his staff chief to function as a “gatekeeper” who would systematically narrow his contacts. Clinton preferred to deal directly with legislators. And he regularly convened meetings not only with department heads, but lower-level staff members to discuss ideas and sketch his legislative agenda.

“I used to feel my role was maximizing access--it was the opposite of being a gatekeeper,” says Wright.

Like many who know Clinton, Henry Oliver, his Arkansas chief of staff in 1990-91, considers it extremely unlikely that he will change course and build a White House structure headed by a staff chief who tightly rations the flow of information to the Oval Office.

“I don’t think he will allow that,” Oliver says. “I think he will be a hands-on President until it gets to be impossible for him--if it gets to be impossible for him.”

Who can run the White House for a man who likes to run things himself?

Former campaign officials most frequently mentioned for the job are Mark D. Gearan, a quiet and well-organized deputy transition director, and George Stephanopoulos, the transition’s smooth communications director. At 36 and 31 years of age, respectively, either would make a dramatic statement of generational transition. But even their boosters fear either might be too young to enforce White House discipline on political leaders old enough to be their parents or grandparents.

“They will get rolled over by the Cabinet secretaries or the congressional guys, who will look at them as staffers,” says one one close observer.

Mickey Kantor, the campaign’s 53-year-old chairman, would be a forceful presence. But he proved a divisive one internally. Many of the campaign’s senior staff members rose up to block his appointment as director of the transition earlier this month, and Clinton could expect the same kind of turmoil if he turned to the Los Angeles attorney for the White House job.

Even Kantor allies think his prospects are now remote. “I think it would be very difficult, given (this month’s controversy) to put him in that job,” says one.

Democratic National Committee Chairman Ronald H. Brown, a Washington lawyer, would also have the heft for the job. But many in Clinton’s camp believe it would send the wrong signal to install in such a central position a man so enmeshed in the capital’s lobbying culture.

Another group of potential candidates come from the ranks of Clinton’s fellow governors. Clinton likes the counsel of elected officials: He shares the sentiment of former House Speaker Sam Rayburn, who once said of John F. Kennedy’s “best and brightest” cadre of appointees that he would feel a little better if any of them had ever run for county sheriff.

Former Arizona Gov. Bruce Babbitt and former Michigan Gov. James J. Blanchard have been raised as possibilities for the top White House job, but usually by people outside the campaign. Among insiders, the former governor most often discussed is Richard W. Riley of South Carolina, a longtime Clinton friend.

This week, Clinton named Riley personnel director for the transition, a move some viewed as a signal he’s not destined for greater authority. But Riley, a longtime advocate of the departures from the Democratic Party’s liberal doctrine, remains a favorite of moderates associated with the Democratic Leadership Council. “What Riley brings,” says one fan, “is a point of view.”

Most of the other names floated for the job are distinguished by their success at obscuring a point of view, at least in public. These candidates--who personify the concept of honest brokers--include Bruce Lindsey, a longtime Clinton friend who served as his counselor and constant traveling companion during the campaign.

Lindsey meets one essential qualification for the job: The unstinting trust of the President-elect. But some think the low-key Lindsey might prefer to reprise his counselor role rather than accept the staff chief’s heavy managerial responsibilities.

Management is the strength of Eli Segal, who served as chief of staff during the campaign and is now the transition’s chief financial officer. Well-organized and even tempered, Segal is a favorite of the campaign staff. But he lacks much experience in the capital’s cutthroat political culture.

Unlike Lindsey or Segal, Christopher has extensive Washington experience: He served as deputy attorney general under Lyndon B. Johnson and as deputy secretary of state under Jimmy Carter.

Colleagues say Christopher’s strengths are discretion, organization, the ability to remain focused on the big picture and a commitment to ensuring equal access for all sides in a debate. “It’s not his style to run things in an imperious way--he wants the input,” says Richard Lichtenstein, a Los Angeles political consultant.

But among transition staffers--many of whom hope to work in the White House--doubts remain about him. Some question Christopher’s political instincts on domestic issues. Others fear a 67-year-old corporate lawyer may be too cautious for a President whose promise to pursue dramatic change means he cannot fulfill his campaign pledges without taking some risks.

One former State Department colleague, who admires Christopher, echoes that concern: “If this is going to be a page-turning Administration, if it is going to be an Administration more committed to finding new policies than fighting old wars, does Christopher make sense?”