The Wright Speakership
Mr. OLESZEK. To start the Speaker Wright years, let me introduce the
moderator for this segment, and that is Janet Hook. She is the chief
congressional correspondent for the Los Angeles Times. Previously, she
covered Capitol Hill for many, many years with Congressional Quarterly.
Ms. Hook won the Everett McKinley Dirksen Award for superlative
congressional coverage. She is also a graduate of Harvard University and
the London School of Economics. It gives me a great deal of pleasure to
turn the podium over to Janet Hook.
Ms. HOOK. Thank you, Walter. Walter's right. I have been covering
Congress for a long time. In fact at the very beginning of my career
working for Congressional Quarterly, I covered Congress when Jim Wright
was Speaker. It was in covering Speaker Wright's House that I developed
my now long-term affection for covering Congress. I've found it to be a
stimulating and tumultuous place to cover. And I first learned those
lessons covering Speaker Wright.
Jim Wright's career in the House spanned more than a quarter-century
of great change in Congress, the country, and the speakership. When Jim
Wright first came to Congress, Eisenhower was President, Sam Rayburn was
Speaker of the House, and, at that point, the baby boom was just a bunch
of babies. When Wright left Congress in 1989, George Herbert Walker Bush
was President, baby boomers were running around the House, and the
challenge of running the House as Speaker was far greater, or maybe it
was just different, than it was for Sam Rayburn.
Jim Wright began his career in the Texas State legislature and as
mayor of Weatherford, Texas. He was elected to the House in 1954 and
quickly found his legislative home on the Public Works Committee. He
unexpectedly leapt into the House Democratic leadership in 1976 when he
was elected majority leader in a hotly contested race, which in the end
was decided by a one-vote margin. That put him in position to rise
without opposition to become House Speaker in 1987 after Tip O'Neill
retired.
Jim Wright's role as Speaker was far broader than just being head of
the House. He was, like Tip, the leader of a Democratic opposition to a
Republican President. And he left his stamp on more than just House
procedures. He left his stamp on policy, particularly on U.S. foreign
policy in Central America where he played a key role in fostering the
peace process that eventually settled a decade-long conflict in the
region. He left the speakership and the House in 1989 in the middle of a
politically charged ethics investigation of the sort that was becoming
quite common around that time. And it was a trend in American politics
that Speaker Wright denounced as ``mindless cannibalism'' in his last
memorable speech to the House. Speaker Wright returned to Texas where he
has pursued an active life in business, education, and writing. He's
mined his Washington experience in teaching a popular course at Texas
Christian University called ``Congress and the President.'' He's been
writing newspaper columns, reviewing books and lecturing, and we're glad
he could come here to talk to us about his years as Speaker.
After we hear from Speaker Wright, we will hear a Democratic
perspective on Wright's speakership from David Bonior, who served in the
House for 26 years and rose himself to the upper ranks of his party's
leadership. He was first elected in 1976 and represented a blue-collar
district in southeastern Michigan for all those years. And one of his
first big steps into leadership came during Jim Wright's era when Mr.
Bonior was named chief deputy whip. In 1991 he was elected majority whip
by the House Democratic Caucus. He retired from the House in 2002 to run
for Governor of Michigan. Since then he's served on the boards of
several public service organizations and he teaches labor studies now at
Wayne State University.
After we hear from Mr. Bonior, we will hear from the Republican side
of the aisle, from former Texas Congressman Tom Loeffler, who was in his
day David Bonior's counterpart in the House Republican leadership. He
was chief deputy whip when Bob Michel was the GOP leader, and he helped
to round up the votes in 1981 for Ronald Reagan's tax and spending
policies. After leaving the House in 1986, he worked in the Reagan White
House and with Speaker Wright on resolving the conflict in Central
America. He's gone on to found his own law and lobbying firm, and he's
continued to be active in Presidential and party politics. Let's start
with Speaker Wright.
Speaker WRIGHT. Thank you for that gracious introduction. I can't
begin without commenting about the thoroughly sentimental attachment I
have to this occasion, this day, here in this gracious room. It was
exactly 31 years ago today--on November 12, 1972--that I had the
wonderful honor to be married to Betty. And it was right here in this
room, by the grace of Speaker Carl Albert, that we had our wedding
reception.
This has been a marvelous, even celebratory, occasion for me. I hope
that our collective recollections will be beneficial to all of us here,
and to those who view them on C-SPAN or read of them in the published
transcript. Looking back in retrospect and rejoicing in remembered
incidents that some of us shared together reminds me that to be chosen
by one's colleagues to serve as Speaker of the U.S. House of
Representatives is probably the greatest honor and among the highest
responsibilities that anyone could bestow, and I shall always be
grateful for that enormous privilege. The speakership provides fully as
much challenge as any Speaker is prepared to accept. Over the years, the
office has been what changing times and individual occupants have made
of it.
Sam Rayburn was Speaker when I entered the House in 1955. He
impressed me enormously. It was from his example, no doubt, that I
formed my basic concept of a Speaker's role. Rayburn was an effective
leader. He saw national needs and made things happen. Under his
guidance, the legislative branch was more creative than passive. During
the Eisenhower Presidency, it initiated most of the domestic agenda.
Mr. Rayburn was a stickler for polite and civil debate. He taught
that a lawmaker's greatest asset was the ability to disagree without
being disagreeable. He insisted that Members treat one another with
courtesy and respect. ``The Speaker,'' said Rayburn, ``always takes the
word of a Member.'' In his mind, we all were gentlemen--and ladies were
ladies.
One illustration of the way Rayburn led is vivid in my mind. It was
1957, my second term in Congress. The Senate, for the first time since
Reconstruction days, voted cloture on a civil rights bill and passed it.
Throughout the Old South, including Texas, there erupted a cascade of
editorial and vocal outrage. Several hundred letters of bitter
denunciation flooded my office.
As the bill came to the House, Speaker Rayburn sent a page to ask me
to come to the podium and talk with him. He didn't cajole and didn't
threaten. I remember exactly what he said: ``Jim, I think you want to
vote for this bill. I'm sure you're getting hundreds of letters
threatening you with all manner of retribution if you do. But I believe
you're strong enough to overcome that, and I know you'll be proud in
future years that you did!'' As things turned out, he was right on all
four counts.
That's the way he led. He appealed to the best in us. Never to fear
or hate, or negative motivations. That's why I loved him. And that's why
I wanted to emulate him.
From this, and from my personal friendships with Speakers John
McCormack, Carl Albert and Tip O'Neill, I had developed over a period of
32 years an exalted view of the Speaker's role, maybe even an impossibly
demanding conception of what a Speaker should be able to achieve for the
country.
Four Policy Changes
Challenges beset every Speaker. Perhaps my most difficult balancing
act lay in trying to advance a progressive domestic agenda that I
thought important, over the active opposition of a popular and
determined President, while trying to bridge the gap between that
President and his severest critics in matters of foreign affairs.
As I prepared to assume the Speaker's office in January 1987, our
government faced three problems of critical proportions: a historic
budget deficit, a threatening trade deficit, and a growing social
deficit. I firmly believed that all three deserved active attention.
Before I could implement a plan to address these problems, a fourth
challenge arose. We were suddenly and unexpectedly confronted with a
shocking constitutional crisis whirling around the Iran-Contra
revelations. That news exploded on the public consciousness just 6 weeks
prior to my election as Speaker.
These four realities of the historic moment would shape the thrust
and direction of my 2\1/2\ years of tenure. Although clearly related,
each of these problems represented a separate challenge and required a
separate strategy.
What we were able to do was far from a one-man effort. I discussed
these problems daily with Majority Leader Tom Foley, wise and more
cautious than I; Majority Whip Tony Coelho, brilliant and creative; and
my newly appointed deputy whip, David Bonior, a man of forthright
convictions and trusted implicitly by our Members.
Budget Deficit
The budget deficit, unattended, could doom any serious effort to
come to grips with the other two deficits. In the past 6 years, we had
doubled military expenditures (from $148 billion in 1980 to
approximately $300 billion in 1986) while cutting taxes by approximately
$165 billion a year.
As a result, we had almost tripled the national debt. In 6 years it
had skyrocketed from slightly under $1 trillion to almost $3 trillion as
I took the Speaker's chair. The annual interest payments on the debt had
skyrocketed from about $50 billion in 1980 to some $150 billion,
draining away that much more money from our Government's commitments.
President Reagan, with all his winsome wit, inspiring charm and
unshakable faith in what he called ``supply side'' economics, actually
seemed to believe that we could double military spending, drastically
reduce taxes for the top brackets, and still balance the budget simply
by cutting ``waste, fraud and abuse'' in domestic programs.
Unfortunately, by 1987, the total elimination of all discretionary
domestic expenditures would not have balanced the budget. The President,
however, refused to agree to altering course. Obviously, if a change
were to come, Congress would have to take the initiative.
It seemed clear to me that the costly drift could not be arrested
except by a combination of three things: more revenues (translate
taxes), and cuts in both military and domestic expenditures. No one of
these three could attain the result alone. Most Members of Congress
recognized this truth, but convincing them that the public understood
and would applaud heroic action on the budgetary front was a major
challenge.
What is a Speaker to do? He sees the Treasury hemorrhaging but is
aware of his colleagues' nervousness about applying the only tourniquet
that will stop the bleeding.
I knew how hard it would be to patch together any budget resolution
that would pass the House, let alone one with real teeth in it. And the
country sorely needed serious increases in several vital domestic
programs.
Bill Gray of Pennsylvania was chairman of the Budget Committee and a
gifted ally. Articulate, knowledgeable and patient, he led the committee
with skill and understanding as its members worked and groped their way
toward a realistic plan. Several times, at his invitation, I came and
sat with them as they talked their way to a logical conclusion.
The resolution that emerged in mid-spring called for $36 billion in
actual deficit reduction, half of this in new taxes and half in spending
cuts. The $18 billion in reduced expenditures was divided evenly between
defense spending and domestic programs. This budget package passed the
House by a comfortable margin.
Congress still was a long way from achieving the goal, but we had
made a beginning. Ultimately, I would learn just how hard it was to pass
any tax bill with the White House adamantly opposed.
Trade Deficit
The trade deficit, as 1987 began, was only starting to command
serious public attention. It had already stretched its fingers deeply
into American pockets. Six years earlier, at the end of the seventies,
we were the world's biggest creditor nation. By the time I assumed the
speakership, our country had become the world's largest debtor. During
1986, Americans spent $175 billion more for goods from other countries
than we sold abroad in American-made products.
A growing number of forward-looking American business, labor and
academic leaders, alarmed by the trends they saw, had begun to ask for a
concerted national effort to stem the tide. Our role had reversed from
seller to buyer and from lender to borrower. We were borrowing from
other countries not only to finance our purchases from them but to
finance our national debt. More and more of our Government bonds, and
more and more private domestic assets were held by foreigners--land,
banks, factories, hotels, newspapers. We were like a family which used
to own the community bank but discovered suddenly that it no longer did
and owed more to the bank than any other family in town.
The Democratic Leadership Council held its annual conference in
Williamsburg, Virginia, on December 12, 1986. There I addressed the
trade issue--the need to improve America's competitive position by
enhancing productivity, reviving the level of industrial research,
modernizing factories, updating job skills, and tightening reciprocity
requirements in our trade agreements with other countries, to include
fair wages for workers who produced goods in bilateral trade.
Afterward, I had a long conversation with Lloyd Hand, former White
House Chief of Protocol. He and I went to see John Young who, along with
other business leaders, had in the past year at President Reagan's
request conducted an intensive study of the trade problem. The business
group issued a report, which they felt had been generally ignored.
At their encouragement, I began to explore the possibility of a
national conference on competitiveness to be attended by distinguished
specialists in the fields of business, labor and academia.
Eager that our efforts should be bipartisan, I talked personally
with House Republican Leader Bob Michel and Senate Minority Leader Bob
Dole, as well as with Senate Majority Leader Robert Byrd. All agreed we
needed such a meeting, and we made up a broad list of invitees. We sent
out invitations to this blue ribbon list jointly in our four names.
This conference was scheduled for January 21, 1987, here in the
Cannon Caucus Room. I talked with Treasury Secretary Jim Baker and U.S.
Trade Representative Clayton Yuetter, inviting their attendance.
A week later the invitations went out to the selected cross section
of experts, and I discovered how difficult it would be to perfect a
truly bipartisan approach to the trade issue. Both Republican leaders,
Bob Michel and Bob Dole, called to tell me they were under heavy
pressure from Reagan administration officials to withdraw from formal
sponsorship of the event.
The White House may have felt that we needed no change in our trade
policies, or possibly it resented congressional efforts to take an
initiative. I was disappointed but not discouraged. It just meant we
would have to work that much harder to achieve bipartisan accord.
The conference took place as scheduled, attended by many Republican
and Democratic Members of each House. The panel of distinguished
authorities included corporate executives, union leaders, university
presidents, and academic specialists.
So broad was the range of their constructive suggestions--from
improved job training for America's work force to a renewal of business
incentives for modernizing America's aging industrial plants, from
antitrust enforcement to renegotiation of copyright and intellectual
property rights agreements--that I knew it would require the active
cooperation of at least 12 House committees.
On the next day, I hosted a luncheon for House committee chairmen in
the Speaker's private dining room. In the first 2 weeks of the session,
the House, at my urging, had already passed a clean water bill and a
highway bill by votes easily big enough to override vetoes. We had begun
committee hearings on the first major bill to provide help for the
homeless. A spirit of ebullience prevailed. We discussed the agenda for
the year, the bills which would comprise our effort to surmount the
three deficits. One famous first: committee chairmen all accepted
specific deadlines for having their bills ready for floor action.
On the trade bill I promised to respect each committee's turf by
assigning separate titles of a composite work to the committees that had
jurisdiction over the varied segments. Chairmen Dan Rostenkowski of Ways
and Means, John Dingell of Commerce, Jack Brooks of Judiciary, and Kika
de la Garza of Agriculture each promised to give top priority to their
segments of this important centerpiece of our common agenda.
Five days later, following President Reagan's State of the Union
Message, Senate Majority Leader Robert Byrd and I divided the 30 minutes
allotted by the television networks for the Democratic response. Senator
Byrd addressed foreign and military affairs and I the domestic policy
agenda.
From the cascade of mail and spontaneous telephoned response, I knew
within days that we had struck a vital nerve with the public and could
count on a lot of popular support if we stuck with our promises.
Eager for a bipartisan approach, I invited leading Democrats and
Republicans from 12 House committees to sit together around the tables
in the Speaker's dining room and discuss ways to improve our Nation's
trade balance. We agreed to incorporate the best ideas from our several
sources into an omnibus bill and to schedule it for action in the House
on April 28.
This omnibus bill, H.R. 3, passed the House with Democratic and
Republican support by the preponderant vote of 290 to 137. H.R. 3
represented the most important trade legislation since the thirties. The
Senate held the bill under consideration for more than a year, altering
and fine tuning several of its provisions, before finally passing it
largely intact in the summer of 1988.
One provision, requiring advance notification to the workers before
summarily shutting down an American plant, drew the ire of President
Reagan. He vetoed the big bill, protesting that such a requirement had
no place in trade legislation.
We probably could have overridden his veto. To avoid conflict, we
simply removed that provision, made it into a separate bill, and then
reenacted both bills simultaneously without changing so much as a comma.
President Reagan signed the two bills. What mattered to us was the
result, not winning a partisan fight with the President by overriding
his veto.
Social Deficit
The social deficit--a growing backlog of human problems and unmet
social needs here in our country--presented a different challenge
entirely. As hard as I tried to promote consensus on issues of
international trade, I knew it would be futile to try to conciliate the
position of the congressional majority on social policy with that of the
Reagan administration. Too wide a gulf separated us.
Since the Reagan budget amendments and tax cuts of 1981, a lot of
Americans at the bottom of the economic spectrum had fallen through the
safety net. For the first time since the thirties, an army of homeless
people had begun to appear on America's streets.
The level of funding had been cut for education and civilian
research. Several years of underinvestment had begun to rip holes in our
social fabric. There'd been a slow deterioration of America's public
infrastructure--the roads, bridges, airports, dams, navigable waterways,
underground pipes--all that lifeline network of public facilities on
which Americans depend. The cities of America, and their problems, were
being ignored.
Since 1980 our annual investment in America--public services such as
education, transportation, law enforcement, environmental protection,
housing and public health--those things that tend to make life better
for the average citizen--had declined by about one-fourth.
Something else, new and alien to the American experience, was
beginning to appear--the disturbing phenomenon of downward mobility. For
the first time since polling entered the American scene, a majority of
Americans were saying they did not expect their children to enjoy as
good a standard of living as they, themselves, had enjoyed.
As Kevin Phillips would point out in his book, The Politics of Rich
and Poor, the gap between rich and poor was widening, thanks in
considerable part to the conscious economic policies of the past 6
years--less for student loans to improvident youngsters, more breaks for
upper-income taxpayers.
Our spending priorities during the eighties, I was convinced, had
been badly skewed. A big majority of the Democrats in Congress were
eager to begin a reversal of the 6-year trend, to restore some of the
necessary social underpinnings. There was evidence that the public
supported this objective. Polls showed that 62 percent of the people
rated the economy ``not so good'' or ``poor'' and 72 percent believed
Congress must do more for the homeless, for affordable housing and
educational opportunities.
As Speaker, I felt a strong obligation to set in motion a reversal
of the trends that were moving so rapidly toward the concentration of
America's wealth into fewer hands. This meant confronting the
administration directly on a wide range of domestic priorities. Tom
Foley, Tony Coelho, David Bonior, and I agreed that we would have to
begin with a few identifiable and achievable objectives.
Getting the Congress and the public to focus on these specific
objectives was the challenge. In my State of the Union response in
January 1987, I named six action priorities. We had reserved low bill
numbers to identify these agenda items. One year later, at the beginning
of 1988, I was able to give a televised progress report. The clean water
bill, the highway bill and the trade reform bill were H.R. 1, 2, and 3,
respectively. Each was passed on schedule and each prevailed over a
Presidential veto.
Additionally, we passed the first bill to provide help for volunteer
groups offering shelters and meals for the homeless, and the first
important expansion of Medicare for catastrophic illnesses, a bill which
later would be repealed in a fight over funding. We increased amounts
for college student aid. We authorized a massive effort to combat drugs,
and this omnibus bill, like the trade bill, was crafted and passed with
bipartisan sponsorship and support.
In 1988, for the first time in more than 40 years, Congress passed
all thirteen major appropriation bills and delivered them to the
President for signing into law before the start of the new fiscal year.
The public responded enthusiastically to this activist schedule.
Polls showed the American people were giving Congress higher job ratings
than they had done in many years.
Of the first three, overriding challenges, the 100th Congress made
good on two of them--the trade deficit and the social deficit. On those,
Congress may have earned an A-.
We did less well on the budget. While the House passed a budget
resolution cutting the fiscal deficit by an appreciable amount and also
pushed through by a hard-fought one-vote margin a reconciliation bill to
carry out that objective, that level of deficit reduction, particularly
as it involved taxes, could not be sustained in the Senate.
Our House budget resolution had called for a net deficit reduction
of $38 billion. We had divided this figure equally among military
expenditures, domestic expenditures, and selective reductions in the
Reagan tax breaks of 1981 for some of America's most affluent citizens.
The House reconciliation bill remained true to this pattern, and
confronted me with the most legislatively confounding day of my
speakership. That day was mentioned in the prior discussion segment.
Looking back, I am not sure I made the right or wisest personal
judgments that day.
That was the first and only time in my speakership when our system
of vote counters failed us. Their composite report had showed we could
pass the rule for the reconciliation bill. To my great surprise, we lost
the vote on the rule. The unexpected controversy involved inclusion in
the bill of some reforms in the welfare system that many Members thought
should be handled as a separate bill. They prevailed, and the rule went
down.
Ordinarily, this would have meant we would have to wait for the next
legislative day to consider an amended rule. Meanwhile, the news media
would have had 24 hours in which to trumpet the news that the House,
confronted with the tough decisions on taxes and the budget, had been
unable to face up to the hard choices.
Eager to forestall that, I adjourned the House and reconvened it a
few minutes later. Technically, we now were in a second legislative day
and could take up an amended rule and the bill, dropping the one
disputed provision to be handled separately, on its own.
That was legal, but it was a rarely used tactic. A good number of my
Republican colleagues thought my decision heavyhanded. Maybe it was. To
make matters worse, later that afternoon, on the final passage of the
reconciliation bill, there was a [one vote--205 to 206--defeat of a
deficit reduction bill.] Told that Democrats Marty Russo of Illinois and
George Miller of California, who were recorded ``no,'' had changed their
minds and were returning from the House Office Building to change their
votes, I held the vote open for about 10 minutes to accommodate them.
And their changed votes, of course, would have resolved the vote in the
affirmative. They didn't return.
Just as I was about to rap the gavel and declare that the bill had
failed of passage, Democrat Jim Chapman of Texas did return. He went to
the well of the House and changed his vote from ``no'' to ``aye.'' That
flipped the margin. That vital reconciliation bill passed by that one
vote!
But the way I had handled it provoked a storm of protest among the
minority. Trent Lott, for one, hit the back of a seat so hard with his
open hand that I supposed he'd broken it. Others, too, were quite angry.
The bottom line is that what I'd done that day did not contribute to
harmonious relations. Although the maneuvers were legal and in keeping
with the rules, my mind was too determined, my attitude too insistent. I
believe that I offended a number of my Republican colleagues. I won the
vote but sacrificed a more precious commodity--good will. In the end, it
wasn't worth it. If that day were to do over again, I like to think I'd
do it differently.
Our ultimate performance on the budget was impressive only in the
sense that it kept things from getting much worse. Maybe we deserve only
a C+ on the budget. Maybe a B+ overall.
As Speaker, I spent a large piece of my political capital in the
effort to make the tax burden fall more fairly, only to discover that I
had overmatched myself!
Any tax bill, I learned to my dismay, was virtually unattainable
absent the President's agreement. It takes two-thirds to override
vetoes. We simply could not get public opinion focused clearly on the
issue of tax fairness and the unambiguous fact that, without more taxes
from somebody, the budget can never be balanced. Having failed to draw
that issue sharply enough, I believe my leadership was just not quite
equal to that particular challenge.
Iran-Contra
One major challenge remained--to head off the constitutional crisis
brewing over the newly revealed Iran-Contra scandal, and to settle the
bitterly divisive issue of our covert involvement in Central American
wars.
On three occasions, Congress had voted to discontinue all military
assistance to the Contras attempting to overthrow Nicaragua's
Government. In the previous year, we had voted to ban the selling of any
weapons to Iran.
Now we learned that a secret group, operating out of the White
House, had contrived, contrary to these laws, to sell U.S. weapons to
Iran. Perpetrators had turned over the proceeds, without notifying
anyone in Congress, to the military forces trying to overthrow
Nicaragua's Government. President Reagan vowed that he had not known
personally of this, and I wanted ardently to believe him.
This was the most shocking revelation since the Watergate burglary
and coverup. At least four laws--the National Security Act, the Arms
Export Control Act, the Department of Defense Appropriations Act, and
the Anti-Terrorism Act--had been blatantly violated.
So flagrant was the flouting of law that a hot volcanic lava of
anger began boiling inside the Congress. First whispers, the audible
demands for impeachment proceedings growled in private conversations
wherever Democratic Members met. Congress was out of session when the
shocking news broke, but pressure was building. Soon word leaked out
that Lt. Col. Oliver North was systematically shredding all written
evidence relating to the illicit adventure before Congress could
reconvene and subpoena the documents. This fanned the flames to a higher
intensity.
This situation had explosive potential. During December, several
House committee and subcommittee chairmen contacted me, each wanting to
schedule hearings on some separate facet of the big story, which
dominated Washington news that month. Without a clear sense of
direction, the new Congress could degenerate into a ten-ring circus as
committees vied with one another for sensational confrontations with
various officials of the executive branch.
The last thing we needed was an impeachment outcry, or a frontal
challenge to the President's personal integrity. Like other Members and
millions of private citizens, I had agonized through the long weeks in
1973 that led to the impeachment hearing on President Nixon, culminating
in his resignation. I wanted no repeat of that scenario. The country
could ill afford it.
Determined that all of the pertinent facts must be disclosed in a
dignified way, preserving the congressional authority without
precipitating a full scale constitutional crisis, I met with Senate
Majority Leader Robert Byrd. He felt exactly as I did. We saw no
national purpose to be served by embarrassing the President personally.
Jointly, we announced that there would be one congressional hearing
on the subject, not several. It would be a joint meeting of select House
and Senate committees. Senator Byrd and I would appoint Democratic
Members; Minority Leaders Michel and Dole would select Republican
Members.
Anxious to protect the credibility and prestige of the special
select committee, I very carefully chose the most respected authorities
I could find: Chairmen Peter Rodino of Judiciary, Jack Brooks of
Government Operations, Dante Fascell of Foreign Affairs, Les Aspin of
Armed Services, and Louis Stokes of Intelligence.
To signal the importance I attached to this mission, I asked House
Majority Leader Tom Foley to serve as my personal representative and
appointed Edward P. Boland to the panel, the principal author of several
of the laws that had been violated. And I told each of them personally
that I thought it would be a disservice to the Nation if anyone
mentioned the word ``impeachment.''
I thought a long while before choosing a chairman for the whole
group and finally settled on Lee Hamilton of Indiana, ranking member of
the Foreign Affairs Committee and former chairman of the House
Intelligence Committee. He had a reputation for objectivity and a
judicious, non-inflammatory manner. I did not want the hearing to be, or
even seem to be, a witch hunt. As much as I disagreed with Mr. Reagan on
domestic priorities, I disapproved anyone with a private agenda of
personally embarrassing the President. To complete my list of
appointees, I named Ed Jenkins of Georgia, a good country lawyer. I was
not trying to prejudge the committee's findings. I was trying to
moderate their explosive potential to split the country apart.
Senator Byrd also chose a responsible panel. He and I agreed that,
to the extent of our ability to influence it, the hearing must not smack
of partisanship. It would be open to the media and nationally televised.
Byrd's chairman, Senator Daniel Inouye of Hawaii, was ideally suited by
temperament and conviction for his role. His demeanor was calm and
rational. He and Hamilton did their best to be impartial and
scrupulously fair to Republican colleagues appointed by Dole and Michel
and to hold down temptations to inflammatory rhetoric.
Hamilton wanted to agree in advance to an arbitrary date to
terminate the proceedings. Otherwise, he argued, they could go virtually
forever to the detriment of other business. He also proposed giving
limited immunity from prosecution to induce testimony from Lt. Col.
North, the individual most involved in handling a number of the details
of the covert transaction. At least two of the House panelists privately
protested, but a majority agreed to back the chairman's decision. As it
turns out, this may have compromised the efforts of the special
prosecutor, Lawrence E. Walsh. But our overriding concern in the
congressional leadership, frankly, was less in embarrassing the
administration and sending people to jail than in getting at the truth,
maintaining the Nation's equilibrium, emphasizing the rule of law, and
avoiding a bloody constitutional confrontation.
Additionally, I felt that we had to heal the malingering wound that
had festered for 5 years over our country's secret and sometimes illegal
sponsorship of the gory attempts to overthrow the Nicaraguan Government
by force of arms. More than 100,000 people had died in Nicaragua and El
Salvador. Congress itself had been closely divided, vacillating between
funding and rebuffing President Reagan's demands for military aid to the
Contras.
In July 1987, my friend and former colleague, Tom Loeffler, came by
my office to inform me that he had been appointed by the President as an
emissary to Congress. We talked about Central America. I told him I
thought the Iran-Contra revelations had destroyed any chance of the
President's getting renewed funding to resume the war.
Tom Loeffler was already a good friend, a fellow Texan, and I
trusted his word implicitly. He suggested something entirely new and
different: That as Speaker I join President Reagan in a bipartisan
initiative for peace. We would jointly call on the Central American
nations to negotiate settlements in Nicaragua and El Salvador based on a
cease-fire, political amnesty for those who had been in revolt, and free
elections to resolve the issues in dispute by popular will. In other
words, ballots instead of bullets, with assurances of U.S. support.
That idea appealed strongly to me. After talking with the White
House, Republican House leaders, and the bipartisan Senate leadership, I
was encouraged. Some of my fellow Democrats were skeptical of the
President's intentions, but most felt I should take the risk if there
were a chance it could lead to peace. I talked also with Secretary of
State George Shultz, who was instructed by President Reagan to work with
me in the drafting of a joint statement.
Before formally agreeing, however, I wanted to test the waters in
Central America. I had personal conversations with Presidents Duarte of
El Salvador and Arias of Costa Rica. Both of them rejoiced at the
prospect. They believed a united propeace front in Washington could lead
to a series of negotiated settlements throughout Central America and end
the bloodshed.
House Republican Leader Bob Michel and I asked Nicaraguan Ambassador
Carlos Tunnermann to meet with us in the Capitol to probe the Nicaraguan
Government's probable response to such an initiative as we had in mind.
``What would it take,'' we asked, ``for your country to get rid of Cuban
and Russian military personnel, live in peace with your neighbors and
restore the constitutional freedoms of your people that were suspended
in the emergency law?''
Tunnermann answered that his government would be quite willing to do
all of these things if we would simply ``stop financing the invasion''
of Nicaragua.
The President and I jointly issued the call for a regional cease-
fire, and peace negotiations on August 5, just 2 days before the five
Central American Presidents were to meet in conference in Esquipulas,
Guatemala.
The result was better than I had dared hope. The Costa Rican
Ambassador called me from the conference site to report the happy news
that all five Presidents had entered a formal agreement embodying almost
all the elements of the Wright-Reagan plan. The principal architect of
the Esquipulas accord was President Oscar Arias of Costa Rica. For this
work, he was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize.
At my invitation, Arias stopped off on his way through Washington in
September and addressed the House. Meanwhile, the Nicaraguan Government
appointed a peace commission, opened newspapers and radio stations that
had been shut down, offered amnesty to those who had made war against
the government, and invited them to participate in the political process
including truly free elections, which ultimately would be held in 1990.
The same amnesty procedure was going on under Duarte's direction in El
Salvador. I was on cloud nine! From my point of view, everything was on
track.
At about this point, I discovered that the White House was far from
happy with the turn events had taken. While I fully expected our joint
statement to stimulate the movement toward peace, President Reagan's
advisors apparently anticipated refusal by the Nicaraguan Government to
comply. Negative comments emanating from the White House gradually made
it clear to me that highly placed people in the administration did not
actually want a peacefully negotiated settlement in Nicaragua. They
fully expected the talks to end in acrimony so they could use the
``failure'' of the attempted peace efforts as a justification for
renewing the war.
This confronted me with a moral dilemma. At the urging of the
administration, I had joined in the bipartisan call for peace. Overjoyed
at the initial success of our efforts, I had met, at the White House's
request, with leaders of the Contra directorate. Most of them, I saw,
had faith in the peace effort. I also met with the Sandinista leaders
whenever they came to my office. I was convinced that most Nicaraguans
on both sides were eager for peace. But some bitterness lingered.
Someone, aside from me, had to be a go-between, an honest broker who
could bring the two sides together. Ideally, a Nicaraguan.
The only Nicaraguan fully trusted by both factions, I had learned
from trips I'd taken to the region, was Catholic Cardinal Miguel Obando
y Bravo. Responsible people in both camps agreed that he was the one to
monitor the cease-fire and help arbitrate the differences. As Speaker
and co-author of the call for peace, I met with the cardinal, whom I
knew personally, at the papal nuncio's office in Washington, on November
13, 1987, and encouraged him to undertake that critical role. He agreed,
and Nicaraguan President Daniel Ortega, at my personal urging, agreed to
give the cardinal a free hand.
The White House, bitterly resentful of my efforts in helping to keep
the peace process on track, began attacking me angrily in the press. The
President and Assistant Secretary of State Elliott Abrams considered my
endeavors intrusive and presumptuous. Perhaps they were. But having
committed myself in good faith to the effort to make peace, I was
unwilling to be a party to its deliberate unraveling or allow that
result if I could prevent it. Too many lives already had been lost. As a
percentage of Central America's population, their war dead would equate
to something like 5 million Americans--more than we have lost in all of
our wars combined.
On two occasions--in December 1987 and February 1988--the
President's forces tried to forsake the peace process altogether and
revive the war by renewing military aid for the Contras. On both
occasions, a majority in Congress voted down the request. At my personal
urging, Congress did appropriate funds for humanitarian assistance--
food, clothing, shelter and medical needs--for the Contra forces during
the cease-fire.
As a consequence of my unwillingness to abandon the effort I had
helped set in motion, I became a target for many personal attacks, both
in the conservative press and from some of my Republican colleagues in
Congress. It is ironic that, in bringing peace to Central America, I
unconsciously drove a wedge between myself and the congressional
minority, which ultimately inhibited my capacity to promote consensus on
other issues.
In retrospect, I firmly believe I did the right thing. We ended the
war and brought democracy to the region. One of the unavoidable
challenges of the speakership is determining when the end result is
worth risking one's own popularity, perhaps even one's moral authority,
with a segment of the membership. I do regret my inability to make peace
between Democrats and Republicans over this issue. Perhaps a more
cautious, more sensitive, more understanding person could have done
that.
Shortly before the inauguration of the first President George Bush,
the new President-elect and I had a long personal visit over lunch in my
office--just the two of us. We explored the areas in which we could find
agreement--including Central America and a balanced budget.
It was March 1989, with George Bush's blessing, that Secretary of
State James Baker and I, along with others of both parties in the
congressional leadership, issued a second statement which clearly
disavowed the use of American-supported military force, and put all the
influence of the United States behind the peace negotiation. This
culminated in the free and fair election from which Violetta Chamorro
emerged on February 25, 1990, as President of Nicaragua. In a broad
sense, the fourth goal of my speakership was attained, but its
attainment used up almost all that remained of my political capital.
What we did achieve is a result of the unstinting cooperation of
many dedicated and cooperative Members. I am indebted to Minority Leader
Bob Michel, as is the country, for his unstinting patriotism and his
personal kindness. I could have done nothing as Speaker without the
active advice and support of Tom Foley, Tony Coelho, David Bonior, and a
host of others too numerous to name here.
Today, almost 14 years after retiring from Congress, I look back in
amazement and look forward in hope, grateful to have been one of those
few privileged to serve our country in this capacity, and hopeful that
my colleagues and I may have contributed something worthwhile to the
ongoing success of the dream that is America.
Ms. HOOK. Thank you very much Speaker Wright. And now we'll hear
from David Bonior.
Mr. BONIOR. Good morning. How wonderful it is to be back with so
many friends to share our experiences and to listen to those who were at
the helm. Let me also express my thanks to the Congressional Research
Service, the Carl Albert Research and Studies Center at Oklahoma
University, and the McCormick Tribune Foundation for their commitment to
the study of Congress and, in particular, the speakerships we recognize
and we celebrate today.
In February 1999, I was accorded the honor of representing the House
of Representatives at the funeral of King Hussein of Jordan and the U.S.
delegation was led by President Clinton but it also included former
Presidents Ford, Carter, and Bush. As we waited in a very ornate palace
room for the funeral procession to begin, an aide entered the room and
announced for all to hear, ``Mr. President it is time to proceed.'' I
could not help but notice at the words ``Mr. President'' that all four
Presidents, as well as their staffs, moved forward. Despite the somber
nature of our roles that day, I was moved by the historic moment of
being with four Presidents--two Democrats, two Republicans. It was a
remarkable feeling. It was an affirmation of our democracy and I feel
that very same way today. It is such a privilege to participate in this
conference.
With wisdom and enthusiasm, Speaker Wright has just shared with us
his speakership. What I would like to do is comment upon his speakership
first by offering some thoughts about Jim Wright the man. Second, I want
to make some observations about the historic 100th Congress which he led
so magnificently. Finally, I want to reflect upon the role he played as
we have just heard in bringing about peace in Central America.
First, Jim Wright the man. Jim Wright has always had a commitment to
ideas, often big ideas. And his ideas spring from a rigorous
intellectual foundation. A serious thinker, a prolific writer, Jim
Wright is a man of letters--a wordsmith, an author of many books and
articles. He is a literary man. Jim Wright loves history and he
understands well the prerogatives accorded the Congress under our
Constitution. Like Senator Robert C. Byrd, Jim Wright appreciated our
Founding Fathers' fear of granting excessive power to the Executive. He
was a steadfast champion of the institutional power assigned to the
Congress. A serious student of Lyndon Johnson and Sam Rayburn, Jim
Wright could also expound upon the ideas of Henry Clay to whom some
scholars have favorably compared you.
Proverbs advise us that where there is no vision the people perish.
Drawing from his broad historical perspective, Jim Wright had a vision
and the ability and the will to pursue that vision. He rejected the
notion that the President proposes and the Congress disposes. Rather, he
believed as John Barry so very ably illustrated in his book The Ambition
and the Power that Congress is a body which can initiate, a creative
body which can lead.
The columnist Murray Kempton once observed about Walt Reuther that
Walt Reuther is the only man I have ever met who could reminisce about
the future. Well, I would likewise add Jim Wright. Jim Wright had an
unusual wisdom about the connectivity of our past and present to our
future, and he was famously determined and forceful in pursuing that
future. A plaque in his Capitol office read, ``Don't tell me it can't be
done. Show me how it can.'' He's always been a doer. And to be a
successful doer requires toughness. It requires daring qualities, which
marked his tenure as Speaker.
Jim Wright was smart enough and tough enough and daring enough to
take advantage of rule changes both in the Democratic Caucus and in the
House of Representatives. You may recall that the newly elected
Democratic Congress classes of 1974 and 1976 shifted powers away from
committee chairs and put them on notice that the caucus would not
tolerate separate committee fiefdoms at the expense of the caucus or the
House. The days of autocratic rule by the likes of Judge Howard Smith
(D-VA), on the Rules Committee, were over. The stage was set for a
Speaker to centralize power and to move a coordinated agenda forward.
That reality, however, would await the election of Jim Wright as Speaker
of the House in 1986. As the labor scholar Taylor Dark wrote, ``Speaker
Wright successfully concentrated power taking advantage of the
previously unrealized potential of congressional reforms of the previous
decade.''
Together with his loyal and dedicated staff, Speaker Wright
assembled a team which I was proud to be a part of, including Tom Foley,
Tony Coelho, Danny Rostenkowski, Dick Gephardt and others. We initiated.
It was the right time. The stars were aligned. President Reagan's
Presidency had lost the momentum of its last 2 years. The Democrats had
just regained the Senate and we had picked up seats in the House of
Representatives. For 40 years Jim Wright had prepared for this
opportunity. The previous 10 years were spent as a loyal majority leader
to Speaker Tip O'Neill's team. Seneca once said, ``Loyalty is the
holiest good in the human heart.'' Leader Jim Wright had shown that
loyalty to Tip O'Neill. Now, in turn, Tom Foley, Tony Coelho, and myself
would demonstrate a similar loyalty to Speaker Wright as he inspired us
with his passion and with his enthusiasm.
And so we turn to the 100th Congress. In Jim Wright we had a
populist and an egalitarian as our Speaker. Seizing the moment, he
crafted an agenda that resulted in one of the most productive Congresses
in the history of the country. As the Speaker himself has recounted for
us all, parts of the legislative machine were finely tuned so that when
he started the engine in January 1987, our agenda would take off.
In preparation, Jim Wright gathered the committee chairs. He said he
would be fair with them but that certain priority bills must be reported
and reported on schedule. And, I'll tell you, I remember that meeting--
the first one--with each chairperson taking the measure of their new
leader knowing he was tough. There was no doubt about his expectations.
Yes, these committee chairs would parent their legislation, but they
would work with a progressive whip operation.
As a member of the Rules Committee appointed by Speaker Tip O'Neill,
I knew where my responsibility to the caucus rested, in my appointment
by the Speaker. Speaker Wright requested a meeting with each Democratic
Rules Committee member, individually seeking their interest in serving
another term and clearly conveying his expectations. This unprecedented
process was another expression of Speaker Wright's determination to get
off to a quick start.
Beside Speaker Wright, Tom Foley had the most experience in our
leadership ascending from whip to majority leader. He was a generous
source of counsel in helping us navigate the rules and the precedents
and the substance and the politics. And, of course, Tony Coelho brought
enormous talents to our whip operation, which met with stunning success
especially in the early months. As effective as Speaker Wright was
within the institution, he was equally impressive in rallying the
support of the outside. You've got to have an inside and an outside.
A very close relationship existed between Jim Wright and the AFL-
CIO, especially Lane Kirkland, its president; and Bob McLaughton, its
chief lobbyist on the Hill. The AFL-CIO saw the 100th Congress as a
moment of opportunity. Kirkland appointed McLaughton, an African-
American, and Peggy Taylor as his assistants, adding much diversity to
their operation. In addition, three important international unions
during the eighties returned to the AFL-CIO: the UAW, the Mineworkers,
and the Teamsters. A valuable symbiotic relationship developed. Our
leadership would reinforce the concerns of labor and working people. The
AFL-CIO would, in turn, support a broad array of issues. So there was
born a process of effective cooperation between Capitol Hill and the
``House of Labor'' on 16th Street. Bob McLaughton was able to speak
forcibly for a united labor movement and their growing army of lobbyists
on the Hill. Indeed, his virtual authority to make a deal on the spot
was crucial to our effectiveness in moving bills quickly and
successfully.
So no one in our caucus would mistake our priorities, Speaker
Wright, as he has just illustrated for us, reserved the first several
House bill numbers for the clean water bill, the highway bill, and the
omnibus trade bill. During the first 2 weeks, we passed the clean water
bill and the highway bill by enough votes to overcome a Presidential
veto. A few months later H.R. 3, the most significant trade bill since
the thirties, passed by a vote of 290 to 137, again enough to override a
veto. We inserted one of the most important labor provisions that the
Congress would enact in the eighties--the plant closing and notification
bill--into that trade bill, which Reagan vetoed in May 1988. We also
reported out the plant and notification bill separate from the trade
bill, and they both went to the President and became law. In 1981 the
AFL-CIO's rate of success in the House of Representatives during the
Reagan Presidency was 47 percent. Under Jim Wright, it went up to 92.8
percent in 1988.
In addition, the 100th Congress passed into law major bills to aid
the homeless, the first important expansion of Medicare for catastrophic
illnesses, and a welfare reform bill with progressive features to move
people from welfare to work. Amazingly, the Congress also passed all 13
major appropriation bills and delivered them to the President for
signing into law before the start of the new fiscal year.
There were sure to be some legislative disappointments for Speaker
Wright. When the budget deficit exploded out of control, as he has just
recounted for us, Speaker Wright early on in our caucus pushed hard for
tax fairness. But in his own words, he admitted, and I quote, ``I spent
a large piece of my political capital in the effort to make the tax
burden fall more fairly only to discover that I had over-matched
myself.''
Well, many also thought that he had overmatched himself in
challenging President Reagan in Central America, but his critics
underestimated Jim Wright's passion for peace. He was not about to
surrender his constitutional responsibilities. The right to declare war,
as written in Article I of the Constitution, rested with the Congress.
Henry Clay, who became Speaker in 1811, was the last Speaker to dominate
foreign policy. Too many subsequent decades of congressional
acquiescence had accompanied American foreign policy, none more
devastating and misplaced than during the Indo-China war in the sixties
and seventies.
A new crop of Vietnam generation legislators increased the
congressional role in foreign affairs from enacting the War Powers
Resolution to an aggressive human rights advocacy campaign. With the
Contra war and the war in El Salvador ravaging Central America, claiming
some 100,000 deaths, some of us were not going to tolerate it in silence
or without a legislative fight. The previous legislative abdication had
lasted 16 years and cost over 58,000 American lives and over 1 million
Vietnamese lives.
Ronald Reagan gave more speeches on Nicaragua than on any other
issue of his Presidency. During the eighties, we had 15 major debates on
the House floor on this contentious issue, voting three times to cut off
all military assistance to the Contras. Secretary of State Jim Baker
accurately noted, and I quote, ``The war in Central America was the Holy
Grail for both the left and the right in the United States. It was the
divisive foreign policy issue.'' Personally, I sometimes felt as if I
spent more time in Managua and San Jose and San Salvador than in my own
district.
The Reagan doctrine and the Monroe Doctrine were colliding with
self-determination and with liberation theology. The mix was volatile
and deadly and the region had spun out of control. Into this maelstrom
stepped Jim Wright. Once again he was the right person at the right
time. He spoke Spanish. He was a student of the region. He personally
knew the leaders. Speaker Wright has told us how he proceeded--the
meetings with Ambassador Tunnermann; the Wright-Reagan plan; the
Esquipulas accord; our meeting with Cardinal Miguel Obando y Bravo; our
continued fight to keep military aid from the Contras; our furious work
to wind this all down while we had the momentum.
Before I close permit me to share one personal story that I'm sure
Tom Loeffler will elaborate on. When Tom came to see the Speaker about a
joint peace proposal, I was adamantly set against it. I did not trust
the administration. I thought it was another setup that would fail and
when it did the floodgates for more military aid would open up. I
strenuously pressed my point of view in a very emotionally charged
meeting. Finally, the Speaker said to me, ``People who are interested in
peace do something about it.'' I paused. I thought. I reflected. I went
along.
While I had lost faith in the administration, I had not lost faith
in Speaker Wright. It became my job, along with Tom Foley and others, to
sell the proposal to our caucus. You know, sometimes you just have to
take a chance for peace. You do not make peace with your friends. You
make peace with your enemies. This lesson I learned from Jim Wright. In
a handwritten ``thank you'' to Jim Wright, Secretary Baker wrote, ``But
for you there would have been no bipartisan accord, without which there
would have been no election.''
President Oscar Arias of Costa Rica, winner of the Nobel Peace
Prize, which many believe should have been shared with Jim Wright,
included in his ``thank you'' to Speaker Wright the following, and I
quote, ``Those [who advocated] peace will not forget you and thank you
for your vision and your deep commitment to the highest ideals of
justice, peace, and progress. The Esquipulas II process finally moved
forward and is showing visible results for 28 million Central
Americans.'' President Arias continued, ``The Wright-Reagan plan, the
bipartisan agreement between the Congress and the Executive, and finally
the change in policy of the Bush Administration toward Central America
are a testimony and confirmation that you were not mistaken. In truth,
you did more for us in Central America than many of those who here call
themselves standard-bearers of freedom. I feel that it has been a
privilege to know you. Count me among your friends,'' concluded
President Arias.
Wallace Stegner, one of our greatest American writers, wrote of
friendship in his fine novel, Crossing to Safety. He said this about
friendship. ``Friendship is a relationship that has no formal shape.
There are no rules or obligations or bonds as in marriage or families.
It is held together by neither law, nor property, nor blood. There is no
glue in it but mutual liking. It is therefore rare.'' Jim Wright is my
dear friend. He has many friends in this room and around the country and
around the world. He has done marvelous good deeds in his life. With a
lust for life, he continues to live productively contributing to the
public dialog, teaching at TCU, enjoying his many friends and family.
John Barry captured my intense respect and admiration for Jim Wright's
speakership with these words, ``The ambition belongs to many men but
none more than Jim Wright. He would use the 100th Congress of the United
States, convened during the Bicentennial anniversary of the Constitution
to earn his place in history. He would rise up and fill the sky with
lightning bolts and he would become a target for them.''
Mr. Speaker, it was a high honor to be part of your team. Bless you
and Betty for your extraordinary service to our country.
Ms. HOOK. Thank you very much, Mr. Bonior. And now we'll hear from
Tom Loeffler.
Mr. LOEFFLER. Thank you, Janet. It is an honor for me to be included
amongst this distinguished group, and to be able to share my
observations concerning an individual I admire and respect, Speaker Jim
Wright. I'm delighted to appear with David Bonior. In one of the
highlights of Jim's career, David's career, and my post-House career, we
were able to work together to bring about something that was
extraordinary given the political climate of the time. In a moment, I
will go into more detail on the remarkable achievement, which would
never have been possible without the leadership of Speaker Wright.
As a Texan fresh out of law school and new to Washington, D.C., I
had the great opportunity to grow up under the tutelage of Senator John
Tower. I also had the privilege of working in the Ford White House,
where I met many of my senior congressional colleagues before I actually
served alongside them in the Congress. I can recall a moment in December
1976 after the election of Jimmy Carter when the newly elected Members
were convening to organize the new Congress for 1977-1978. The
tickertape in the East Wing of the White House was just going nuts. I
walked over to it, and I looked, and it says: ``Jim Wright wins by one
vote'' the majority leader position in the House of Representatives.
Little did I know that 2 years later I would be his colleague.
Before I speak of Jim Wright in a global way, I wish to share with
you the perception of those of us who served with him in the Texas
delegation. Whether we were Democrats or Republicans, we knew that
Speaker Wright had an incredibly tight rope to walk. Politically, he did
this in a very adroit fashion because Texas politics were changing. In
1971, when I was beginning my work with Senator Tower, Texas was
evolving into a two-party State.
It is important to understand that as Jim grew in leadership within
this body, his advocacy for issues didn't necessarily jive with the
evolving Texas political landscape. Through his astute political skills,
Jim was able to continue to grow in leadership within his party,
ultimately rising to the pinnacle of Speaker, while still having the
absolute stout support of all Texans. He did all this in spite of the
changing party dynamic back home. And remember in Texas, as we were
reflecting upon the O'Neill speakership, Texans liked to poke fun at
Tip. But that never transferred to Jim. Even before he was part of the
official leadership on the Democratic side, he was a capable leader in
the Texas delegation. Jim was always there to help on every issue that
was a Texas issue, whether it was in a Democratic congressional district
or a Republican congressional district. There was a bond among those of
us in the Texas delegation where we always knew that when there was a
day of reckoning and we needed help for Texans, Jim Wright would be
right by our side.
Jim Wright's word is his bond. He is one of the fairest people that
I have ever worked with. He is also one of the most articulate Members
that this Congress has ever had or will ever have in its body. Mr.
Speaker, I will never forget the time at a Texas State Society luncheon
when you and Senator Tower were speaking together, and, all of a sudden,
Tower became quiet. Never one to yield the floor, unless of course he
was good and ready, I asked the Senator why he had stopped talking. He
answered very strictly, ``Because I didn't want to take Jim Wright on. I
knew I'd lose.''
The final comments that I have concern the formulation of the
Wright-Reagan plan. I had left Congress to return to my home State and
run for statewide office, as David Bonior recently did in Michigan.
After my failed run for Governor, I had a call from Howard Baker asking
me, on behalf of the President, if I would return to the White House to
work with my many friends in Congress to bring about a unique and
unbelievable occurrence. It was President Reagan's hope that the
Congress and the White House would speak with one voice on American
foreign policy as it related to Central America. In my lifetime I could
not remember when that had been the case.
After I arrived at the White House, my first call was to Jim Wright.
I went to his leadership office and we sat down and began a frank
discussion. As we concluded, the only thing that we could give to each
other was the understanding that we would be honest with one another, we
would tell each other the truth, and if we could move it forward on
behalf of the President and the speakership, we would. And, if we
couldn't, we would shake hands and go about our business knowing that we
had done our very best.
Before returning to the White House, I stopped in to see Minority
Leader Bob Michel and reported that in our meeting the Speaker indicated
an extremely high interest in moving this forward. As one could have
expected, after our initial meeting a lot of things happened that nearly
derailed the process. I remember when David Bonior and Majority Leader
Foley and I were alone after one of Speaker Wright's meetings--Trent
Lott and Bob Michel had gone off, and Tony Coehlo and Jim had gone off--
and the two of them looked at me and said, ``Do you know what you're
doing to the Speaker? You're absolutely setting him up.'' All I could
say was, ``I hope not.'' They, obviously being very honorable and very
close friends with respect for me and knowing what a failed outcome
could mean, said, ``We pray you're not.''
During the course of this 10-day period, something rare and
significant occurred. Speaker Wright and Senate Majority Leader Bob Byrd
convened a meeting in H127. The room was full, 25 to 30 Members of
Congress on both sides of the aisle, along with Secretary of State
George Schultz and Colin Powell, Deputy National Security Advisor to the
President. Here the initial parts of what was being discussed between
the congressional leadership and the administration were laid out for
those who would be critical in seeing the legislation through. This
group consisted of such people as Congressman David Obey and Senator
Jesse Helms, and everyone in between. That meeting--and all of our
meetings for 10 days--never became public knowledge. If they had gone
public, I do not believe that the Wright-Reagan plan would have reached
fruition.
The night before the Speaker and the bipartisan congressional
delegation from the House and the Senate arrived at the White House for
the final stamp of approval on the Wright-Reagan plan, Jim Wright called
and said, ``You know, Tom, we've had a great run together. You know the
President and I are not the closest of friends. I would really like to
do something that would be meaningful to the President because I know
this is an unbelievable moment, and I know that he has shot straight
with me, been honest and fair, and this is going to be a big day. What
would you suggest?'' After some thought, the commonality of their
western influence struck me, so I said, ``Jim, why don't you wear your
black ostrich boots?''
Well, the morning that everyone was arriving at the White House, we
had a few little glitches that we had to iron out, and I was never able
to get to the President and give him the heads up on Jim's wearing of
cowboy boots as a friendly gesture. So, everyone went in, and I was the
last one into the Oval Office. The President was sitting with Jim at his
side, and I'll be darned if President Reagan didn't turn to the Speaker
to say, ``Jim, I sure like those boots.'' And I thought at that moment:
``We've made it!''
Jim is a rare breed in our business. A most distinguished gentleman,
master politician and negotiator, loyal and honest as the day is long.
Mr. Speaker, I'm delighted we've had a chance to play a role together.
And I'm honored to stand here today once again by your side. Thank you.
Ms. HOOK. Thanks very much Mr. Loeffler and Mr. Bonior, and I'm sure
many of you would like to ask questions of the Speaker. We're running a
little late though, but I'm sure Speaker Wright will be around and maybe
you can approach him and talk to him informally. I'd just like to close
by thanking Speaker Wright for traveling here to join us today and
thanks to the Congressional Research Service for making this whole panel
possible.
I want to close by recalling a line that I remember. I don't know
what the context was when Mr. Wright said this but it stuck in my mind
while I was covering him and it has stuck in my mind for many years. I
think it's something that summarizes Jim Wright's ambitious approach to
the speakership. He once said, ``We make a greater mistake when we think
too small than when we think too big.'' Thank you all very much.