On Presidential Power: Iron Fist vs. Velvet Glove : Politics: Clinton seems to buckle when pressured by just about any group. He calls it compromise. But Congress sees it as something else.

The robe of invincibility, which every new President dons on taking office, still rests comfortably on Bill Clinton’s shoulders. But fewer than three months into his term, there is a flaw in the garment. A discernible loose end is dangling from the hem. As various interest groups have given it a little tug, it’s gotten longer, leading to the perception that, if someone had enough courage, picked the correct time and had the proper issue, the entire robe might come undone, leaving Clinton revealed as the emperor who has no clothes.

You see, presidential power itself is only a perception. A President must force others to do what he wants. If he is seen too often doing what others want, the perception fades and he loses his power. Ultimately, the chorus of his critics, the unflattering accounts of his activities in the press and his protestations of it not being his fault that nothing has been accomplished result in his low standing in polls. But the first phase of this process is beginning now. For Clinton seems to be continually doing what others want.

Two weeks ago, the President was visited by a group of Democratic senators from Western states. They said they would not vote for his economic package as long as it contained higher fees for grazing cattle, cutting timber and mining minerals on federal lands. The next day, these higher fees were dropped from the bill, the Administration thus reneging on promises made to the environmental lobby. Conclusion: Clinton buckled.

It was soon after this that all 43 Republican members of the Senate banded together to filibuster the Administration’s “economic stimulus” package. The Democratic leadership has tried on three occasions to break the filibuster, but has been no closer than five votes shy. By mutual consent, the Senate adjourned for the Easter recess without resolving this. As the senators left town, the White House was heard to say it was “willing to compromise.” Washington insiders are now on the edge of their seats to see just how much “compromise” the seemingly powerless GOP Senate minority can command from Clinton.

The conclusion: He is buckling, and this time so publicly that he can be sure others, perhaps more powerful than the minority Republican members of the Senate, will pressure him in the future.

These two incidents are part of a pattern, for Clinton seems unable to stand firm on a decision. It became evident during the transition. After women activists and Latinos complained about not being well-represented on the Cabinet, Clinton made conciliatory appointments. Since taking office, he has reneged on his promises of a kinder and gentler policy toward Haitian refugees, presumably bowing to pressure from Southern Democrats. And on the matter of giving homosexuals equal treatment in the armed services, Clinton agreed to Sen. Sam Nunn’s “request” that time be taken to study the matter. The conclusion in these cases: He buckled.

The President seems unaware of the danger he is in. Last week, in an attempt to show that the Administration could be “tough,” the White House proudly leaked that they had punished Democratic Sen. Richard C. Shelby of Alabama for criticizing Clinton’s economic program. They took 900 National Aeronautics and Space Administration jobs from his state. Shelby proceeded to be the only Democrat to vote with the Republicans on their filibuster. And the GOP probably has 44 votes on most issues for the foreseeable future.

Political disloyalty should be punished, but there is no credit taken in this. Far better the sinner be forced to explain his sin, rather than allowing the people of Alabama to conclude that their President may be overly vindictive.

The key for a President to retain his power is that he leave no doubt, either by words or actions, as to exactly what his priorities are. Other items, not on the priority list, are assumed to be fair game for compromise.

By setting priorities, a President gives helpful guidance to Congress. If a President sends legislation to the Hill that is within the bounds of his priorities, members of his own party realize he is demanding their loyalty. If this is difficult, they can examine all items that are not priorities and find something helpful to them. However, only in extreme cases, after gaining permission from the President (presumably after a replacement vote is found in the other party), may they vote against their President.

It is also up to a President to be the master chess player. Raising user fees on federal land is obviously going to be a problem for senators from the West. Rather than waiting for them to tell you, you should deal with it immediately. Those who don’t have to face their electorate for four or six years may be called on for support, since any President can find helpful things for senators who need them prior to reelection. Those up for reelection in 1994 may be allowed to vote against the President, but they should be forced to plead their individual cases. If a senator’s standing in his state is strong enough, he can withstand an unpopular vote. But he won’t choose to do so unless a President makes him.

If you have to threaten retribution, you should do so early in the process and with some finesse. There is an old story about Lyndon B. Johnson, when he realized that Sen. Harry Byrd of Virginia was likely to be a problem on Johnson’s civil-rights legislation. Johnson and Byrd were close friends, but Byrd had been an architect of the South’s “massive resistance” policy toward integration. Even though Johnson doubted that Byrd would cross him, he invited him to the White House. After the two sipped some bourbon and recalled old times, Johnson said, “You know, Harry, (Secretary of Defense) McNamara wants to close that big naval base you have in Norfolk. I don’t much want to do it, but that’s what he thinks.”

Johnson never mentioned civil rights or any fears he may have had that Byrd might be disloyal, but Byrd performed admirably when the legislation came before Congress.

Sen. Daniel Patrick Moynihan (D-N.Y.), chairman of the Senate Finance Committee, through which most of Clinton’s economic and health-care legislation must pass, was asked to comment on reports that the White House felt it could ignore him because Treasury Secretary Lloyd Bentsen had been the chairman of this committee and could command its loyalty. After assuring his questioner that his relations with the White House were cordial, Moynihan said the situation reminded him of a story about President Franklin D. Roosevelt. Roosevelt, having failed to unseat a Southern Democratic senator who had voted against his plan to pack the Supreme Court, later ran into the man. Trying to repair their relationship, Roosevelt asked for forgiveness, saying, “Sometimes, I’m my own worst enemy.” The senator looked him straight in the eye and said, “No, you’re not.” Moynihan knows how to deliver a message without being disloyal.

The President seems to confuse amiability with leadership. A President can compromise as long as he is the one leading the compromise, he can change his mind as long as he is the one who changed his mind, and he can even fail to keep promises made during the campaign as long as he is the one who determines such a promise was wrongly made. But if he does any of these acts at the direction of others, he is cooperating in destroying his own power. If the Clinton Administration wants to punish anyone, it should focus on those who force it to “change its mind” rather than a person like Shelby, whose transgression was just not knowing when to keep his mouth shut.

I remember being at a meeting with Richard Nixon when he was President. Someone made a suggestion that sounded good but that would have resulted in difficult consequences down the road. Nixon usually had no patience for suggestions that didn’t anticipate consequences, but this time he explained the succession of events that would result from this seemingly good idea. At the end, he summed up his analysis by saying, “When we get to that point, I’ll have no alternative but to paint my backside white and run with the antelopes.”

This was Nixon’s quaint way of saying that he would wind up denuded of his presidential power, trying to save himself by seeking the safety of whatever political herd might be willing to protect him. So far, our President does not seem adroit enough to worry about such things.

DR, TIM TEEBKEN / For The Times