Grading the performance of the president's top executives

As President William Howard Taft observed after he left the White House, "The Cabinet is a mere creation of the president's will. It exists only by custom." Noting that the Constitution says nothing about a "Cabinet" of executive branch department heads, Taft added, "If the president desired to dispense with it, he could do so."

Calvin Coolidge's vice president, Chester Dawes, offered an even harsher assessment: "The members of the Cabinet are a president's natural enemies," he said-a view that was undoubtedly influenced by fallout from the Teapot Dome scandal, which marked the first time a Cabinet secretary was imprisoned for official misconduct.

Unless Cabinet chiefs become embroiled in scandal, most of them garner the bulk of their attention when they are appointed and when they resign. All but a few toil in quiet obscurity. And the notion that the secretaries gather as a deliberative body to advise the president on the pressing matters of state is largely myth.

"The only time you pull the Cabinet together is when you want to create a PR backdrop for whatever issue the president wants to get out," said Leon Panetta, who was chief of staff in the Clinton White House. "It's a charade."

But although the Cabinet rarely functions as a unit, part of a president's success hinges on the intelligence, judgment, loyalty, and political acumen of the individuals appointed to serve in it. Certainly, that is true of the presidency of George W. Bush.

In any serious attempt to judge the overall performance of his Cabinet-to assess its members' abilities to influence the White House and Capitol Hill, to advance the president's political desires, and to run their departments-the terrorist attacks of 9/11 and their aftereffects must weigh heavily on nearly every calculation. The first two years of Bush's Cabinet are sharply divided into two very different eras: pre- and post-9/11.

Perhaps not since 1947, when fighting the Cold War became the mainspring of Harry S. Truman's presidency, has the executive branch been so animated and mobilized by a common purpose. That year saw the enactment of the National Security Act, which established the Department of Defense, the Central Intelligence Agency, and the National Security Council, and enabled Truman to better coordinate defense and foreign policy.

The most enduring Cabinet legacy of 9/11 may be creation of the Department of Homeland Security, which requires the largest government reorganization since 1947.

Major foreign-policy initiatives-the Truman Doctrine and the Marshall Plan-became the hallmark of the Truman presidency, just as Bush's war on terrorism has defined his administration since 9/11.

"Offhand, I can't think of a better comparison," said University of Rochester political scientist Richard F. Fenno Jr., author of a seminal study of presidential Cabinets. "You've got to judge each member of the Cabinet in relation to the president and the president's program. And this single event, 9/11, has galvanized the entire administration," Fenno noted. "In more placid times I'd imagine that [Bush's] secretaries would be running off in all directions, courting their own constituencies, mobilizing them sometimes for the president and sometimes against."

The Transforming Power of 9/11

After the terrorist attacks, Bush gained enormous respect by demonstrating resolve in the face of adversity. His presidency was transformed. Even his critics conceded that Bush had become a focused, effective leader.

Likewise, many members of his Cabinet seemed to rise to the challenge. A few stumbled, then found their footing. For some, hard edges became assets.

Secretary of State Colin L. Powell went from being the "Odd Man Out" on Bush's national security team-as he was dubbed on the cover of Time magazine immediately before the terrorist attacks-to being arguably the indispensable member of the Bush Cabinet. Despite power struggles within the Cabinet, Powell's preference for conducting foreign policy by negotiation and multilateral diplomacy rather than by confrontation and unilateral action has so far largely prevailed. Bush was persuaded to go to the United Nations with his case for disarming Iraq of weapons of mass destruction; Powell then won a unanimous endorsement of that policy from the Security Council. After rattling the sword at North Korea over its menacing nuclear program, the administration is now engaged in talks to resolve that potential crisis.

In an interview with National Journal, Powell acknowledged that his fights with administration hard-liners have been "wearying," but he added that his "purpose is not to prevail [but to] serve the president." Powell pointedly noted that the American people "didn't vote for me" or anyone else in the Cabinet. Powell added, "What the rest of us are supposed to do is fight for what we think are the right answers and positions, and respect the positions that others hold. In the end, the president decides and we execute."

In building his Cabinet, Bush purposely brought together veteran foreign-policy and defense-policy advisers who have wills as strong as their credentials. In announcing his nomination of Donald Rumsfeld to be secretary of Defense, Bush declared that his national security team was hardly a group of "shrinking violet[s]." Bush went on to say, "I hope there is disagreement, because I know the disagreement will be based upon solid thought. What you need to know is that if there is disagreement, I'll be prepared to make the decision for the good of the country."

Rumsfeld still has plenty of critics because of his damn-the-torpedoes mentality toward lawmakers and the military brass. But the grumbling, which once appeared to threaten his job, is less relevant in the aftermath of 9/11. Rumsfeld has been a commanding, reassuring presence in explaining the administration's war on terrorism to the public. His prodding encouraged the generals and admirals to adopt more mobile and stealthy tactics for prosecuting that conflict in Afghanistan. And that success may now help Rumsfeld win arguments for canceling Cold War weapons systems and revamping the armed forces in ways that upset his detractors.

"The changes that the world has seen have required changes in this institution, in my view, that I'm trying to implement," Rumsfeld told National Journal. "There's going to be people who don't like it." And while the military has not vanquished Al Qaeda, under Rumsfeld's guidance it has been quickly mobilized for another conflict in Iraq.

Even Director of Central Intelligence George J. Tenet has rebounded from his agency's failure to detect and deter the sneak attacks of 9/11. His skillful deployment of CIA assets in Afghanistan was critical to the rapid toppling of the Taliban regime there.

Several Cabinet chiefs have assumed enormous new responsibilities or radically redefined their departments' missions in ways that would have been almost unimaginable before 9/11.

What Attorney General John D. Ashcroft describes as the Justice Department's "wartime reorganization and mobilization" has dramatically shifted its focus from fighting crime in the streets to preventing another 9/11. Ashcroft's department has secured sweeping new authority to carry out domestic surveillance. And it rounded up thousands of foreigners suspected of having ties to terrorists and long held them without filing public charges or even releasing their names. Bush's most controversial Cabinet member is loathed by civil libertarians. But Ashcroft's aggressive tactics fit the desire within the White House to rewrite the rule book if that's what it takes to fight the domestic war on terrorism.

Meanwhile, Secretary of Transportation Norman Y. Mineta, who holds what's normally a secondary Cabinet post, saw himself thrust into the limelight because the 9/11 terrorists had crashed commercial passenger jets into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. Reacting to the disastrous failure of airline safety measures, Congress passed an airport security bill mandating that Mineta set up a huge new sub-Cabinet agency, the 60,000-employee Transportation Security Administration. Despite a few hitches, Mineta has fulfilled his assignments without hobbling air travel.

The post-9/11 world has required Health and Human Services Secretary Tommy G. Thompson to become an expert on bioterrorism. He initially stumbled in explaining the anthrax crisis, but has since become the administration's point person on smallpox and other biothreats.

Even Energy Secretary Spencer Abraham, whose chief accomplishment has been to win congressional backing for the Yucca Mountain nuclear-waste depository, now identifies the central mission of his department as "national security."

In the wake of 9/11, virtually every Cabinet secretary has proposed some way to fight terrorism. Agriculture Secretary Ann M. Veneman suggested that her department stop intervening with the Immigration and Naturalization Service in favor of granting visas to foreign doctors willing to work in rural areas. Farm-state lawmakers threw a fit, and now the Department of Health and Human Services plays Agriculture's old advocacy role.

Making the Grades

Most of Bush's Cabinet members do well at furthering the president's political objectives-whether by being a visible Hispanic Republican face, as in the case of Housing and Urban Development Secretary Mel R. Martinez, or by keeping the nation's attention focused on the threat of domestic terrorism, as in the case of Attorney General Ashcroft. And most can be proud of their inside influence; they generally have the president's ear when they need it.

Cabinet secretaries tend to score lower grades on their relations with Congress, however. Some of the most significant legislation signed by this president-including the education and farm bills-became law without Cabinet members' playing key roles.

It's not surprising that a Washington newcomer, Education Secretary Roderick Paige, would be untutored in the folkways of Congress. The equally bad mark on "Hill Clout" earned by Agriculture Secretary Veneman is more puzzling, because she worked in the department under Presidents Reagan and George H.W. Bush.

Neither Paige nor Veneman led the administration's negotiations on major legislation that passed on their watch. White House aides played a significant role as deal-cutters on the education and agriculture bills.

Asked for his thoughts on Veneman, Sen. Charles Grassley, R-Iowa, curtly replied, "I don't want to state any."

One reason that former Treasury Secretary O'Neill is out of a job is that he, too, had dismal relations with the Hill, starting with a blunt style that alienated key lawmakers, including House Ways and Means Chairman Bill Thomas, R-Calif.

The middling marks for congressional relations earned by some secretaries are surprising, given their experience. Rumsfeld and Mineta, for instance, are former members of Congress, but they rated only C's. (Former Bush White House Director of Legislative Affairs Nicholas E. Calio insists that, inside the administration at least, Mineta and his deputy, Michael Jackson, are considered "worthy of sainthood" for carrying the administration's water on the Hill.)

Calio's comments about Mineta, and a similar observation he made about Thompson, underscore an important trait of the Bush Cabinet-the absence of freelancing. In other administrations, Mineta, with his long-standing ties to Hill Democrats, and Thompson, an independent thinker who has lost his share of policy fights with the White House, might be prime candidates to make end runs around their boss. But that doesn't happen much in this administration. Bush inspires a sense of loyalty from his troops, and his management style imposes a fairly tight discipline down the chain of command, compared with presidents such as Franklin Roosevelt and Bill Clinton, who permitted more freelancing by their Cabinets.

Having a background on Capitol Hill has helped some Cabinet members. Veterans Affairs Secretary Anthony J. Principi, a former GOP staffer on both the Senate Armed Services and Veterans' Affairs Committees, receives high marks from both sides of the aisle. It doesn't hurt that Principi runs a politically popular department. Also, he said, "I make myself as accessible as possible."

Another Hill veteran who works effectively with Congress is Energy Secretary Abraham, a former Michigan senator and a former executive director of the National Republican Congressional Committee. Abraham drew on his credibility among his former Hill colleagues to help push through Senate approval of the Yucca Mountain nuclear-waste storage facility-legislation that had languished for years.

Like Hill clout, departmental management is a problem area on the National Journal report cards of many Cabinet members. Some failed to address bureaucratic nightmares they inherited. A more common complaint is that Bush's secretaries tend to run their fiefdoms with a very tight circle of political appointees, making career civil servants feel left out.

In some places, the secretary is transforming a department's mission in ways that are bound to alienate many longtime staffers. Interior Secretary Gale A. Norton, for example, has shifted land-use priorities toward development.

While the attorney general scores high marks overall, his management score is a mere C. Career lawyers who have served under both Democrats and Republicans complain that they are being ignored in policy deliberations. Ashcroft contends that Justice's career staff should feel a sense of esprit de corps because of the department's winning record in court.

At the Environmental Protection Agency, Administrator Christie Whitman-who has made it known she prefers to still be called "governor"-hasn't been able to win over an entrenched staff to Bush's less-green policies. Also, under Whitman, the EPA routinely gets rolled by departments that are more oriented toward development.

At the other end of the spectrum, another ex-governor, HHS's Thompson, has energized his department with his can-do attitude. Thompson's biggest success is getting his far-flung agencies to function as a team. To that end, he's made HHS's many computer systems compatible.

As the Cabinet moves into its second two years, 9/11 will continue to exert a profound influence on the grading curve, as the president's top appointees keep grappling with problems very different from those they originally expected to face.