Capital Scene: Bread & Circuses

ALONG with the late-summer humidity, an air of ghoulish anticipation hangs over Washington. Spectators are gathering for the advertised “train wreck” when President Clinton vetoes the tax-cut and spending bills sent him by Congress, and Republicans retaliate by refusing to extend the government’s authority to borrow, thus prohibiting all but “essential” government spending. The city entertains itself with the frightful prospect. White House officials warn of the number of air-traffic controllers, meat inspectors, and prison guards who will be laid off. (Somehow they never mention IRS auditors.) Hill Republicans call on the know-how of budget veterans of the Reagan-Bush years to ensure that Social Security checks flow out with no interruption. And the White House press corps reshuffles its metaphors: the rumble of the trains coming around the bend, the helpless screams as Miss Fiscal Responsibility is tied to the tracks, the innocent bystanders in harm’s way . . . but, wait, the script has no ending.

For what do those in charge want? Or what is the best they think they can get? The late Herman Kahn once argued that the way to win a game of chicken was to get into the vehicle visibly drunk and to throw the steering wheel out the window. In Beltwayese: if the GOP wanted to try forcing the President to adopt its agenda unadulterated, it would have to pass a debt-ceiling bill that includes all its reforms—and then adjourn. But who would lead this struggle to bring Washington to heel and then go home triumphant? Last month Bob Dole reminded us needlessly: “I’m not one of these ‘in your face, it’s got to be my way or no way’ kind of conservatives. . . . People want to get things done around here.” Nor have any steering wheels been seen flying out the windows of the Cannon House Office Building lately. All in all, it seems each party will keep a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel and a foot hovering over the brake.

About the Author

Kate O'Beirne

Featured Tags

ALONG with the late-summer humidity, an air of ghoulish anticipation hangs over Washington. Spectators are gathering for the advertised “train wreck” when President Clinton vetoes the tax-cut and spending bills sent him by Congress, and Republicans retaliate by refusing to extend the government’s authority to borrow, thus prohibiting all but “essential” government spending. The city entertains itself with the frightful prospect. White House officials warn of the number of air-traffic controllers, meat inspectors, and prison guards who will be laid off. (Somehow they never mention IRS auditors.) Hill Republicans call on the know-how of budget veterans of the Reagan-Bush years to ensure that Social Security checks flow out with no interruption. And the White House press corps reshuffles its metaphors: the rumble of the trains coming around the bend, the helpless screams as Miss Fiscal Responsibility is tied to the tracks, the innocent bystanders in harm’s way . . . but, wait, the script has no ending.

For what do those in charge want? Or what is the best they think they can get? The late Herman Kahn once argued that the way to win a game of chicken was to get into the vehicle visibly drunk and to throw the steering wheel out the window. In Beltwayese: if the GOP wanted to try forcing the President to adopt its agenda unadulterated, it would have to pass a debt-ceiling bill that includes all its reforms—and then adjourn. But who would lead this struggle to bring Washington to heel and then go home triumphant? Last month Bob Dole reminded us needlessly: “I’m not one of these ‘in your face, it’s got to be my way or no way’ kind of conservatives. . . . People want to get things done around here.” Nor have any steering wheels been seen flying out the windows of the Cannon House Office Building lately. All in all, it seems each party will keep a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel and a foot hovering over the brake.