The Powerhouse

peaker Newt Gingrich has unleashed a revolution in the House of Representatives. But it's not only a power shift to the right that he seeks, it's a power shift to the speaker's office.

In fact, the very first power move by the speaker was not against the Democratic Party but against the Republicans who were about to become the leaders of the 19 House committees. The speaker has centralized power in his office and reduced the might of the committee baronies.

For executive branch managers, this means the committees with which they have been cozy may be less able to help them. And that is just what the speaker intends. His power play is not simply personal aggrandizement. Republicans, Democrats and academics have argued for years that the committees were too friendly with the institutions they were supposed to oversee. The problem was viewed as acute with committees that had the narrowest jurisdictions. The House Merchant Marine and Fisheries Committee, for example, was often dismissed as a wholly owned subsidiary of the merchant marine industry. Gingrich killed that committee outright. Few mourned.

The Seizure of Power

The speaker's first power move came in December 1994, before he was formally speaker, at the House Republican Conference meeting to organize for the 104th Congress. The first reform proposed in the Contract With America came up for a vote in that meeting. The issue was to cut House staff by 33 percent. It was framed as a symbolic gesture of the Republican intention to reduce bureaucracy and a way to set an example by starting at home.

The 33 percent cut, however, did not apply to the representatives' personal office staffs, which accounted for 80 percent of House employment. Nor did it apply to the Speaker's staff, which has grown from 18 before Gingrich to 27 now, according to the Congressional Yellow Book. Also excluded were other members of the House leadership and the Speaker's Advisory Group, which includes Gingrich's closest comrades even if they lack formal leadership posts.

The real purpose of the cut was not at all symbolic. It was practical-to reduce the powers of those committees and eliminate them as power centers rivaling the speaker's office. Needless to say, the incoming committee chairmen were not at all happy. But Gingrich showed his own mastery of practical politics that week of the organizing caucus. He scheduled the vote on committee chairmanships for the last day of the week, telegraphing to the chairmen-in-waiting that those who opposed his plan to slash their staffs should not expect to ascend to the chairmanships they had awaited so long.

He had already cowed the chairmen-in-waiting by refusing to back some to whom the seniority system would have handed chairmanships. For the Appropriations Committee, the most powerful of all the committees, Gingrich had reached down to the fifth-ranking Republican, Bob Livingston of Louisiana.

The effort to geld the committees went beyond cutting staff size. Some of the incoming chairmen wanted to keep Democratic staffers who had been balanced and fair with Republicans and who were the fount of institutional knowledge. For example, Rep. Bud Shuster of Pennsylvania, the incoming Republican chairman of the House Transportation Committee, identified four Democratic staffers he wanted to bring on board the new Republican majority staff. Outgoing Chairman Norman Mineta of California said he would not raise any objection. But Gingrich forbade Shuster to hire the four.

Gingrich intervened similarly on several other committees. The most dramatic case was Armed Services, now National Security, the only standing committee to operate with a nonpartisan staff. Incoming Chairman Floyd Spence of South Carolina announced he would keep all staffers except for the half-dozen identified personally with outgoing Chairman Ronald Dellums of California. But Gingrich insisted that no one hired by the Democrats could be kept on the new majority staff. The Republicans on National Security knew they would have trouble handling even the mechanics of packaging the 500-page annual National Defense Authorization Act, no less its content, if that standard were applied and the entire professional staff axed. After weeks of haggling, Spence was allowed to shelter 6 Democratic appointees while 25 were fired.

Another change touted as democratization eliminated proxy voting in committees. Members sit on multiple committees and frequently have overlapping commitments, so keeping up attendance is difficult. Reform advocates argued that legislators shouldn't be able to vote if they hadn't attended the debate. Who could argue with that? Except that was not really the point of the proxy change. Under Democratic rule, a chairman would collect sheaves of proxy voting slips assigning voting rights to the chairman, who frequently cast a quarter of the votes and sometimes even a majority. With the Republican change, billed as a reform, committee chairmen were stripped of another source of power.

Another tool of control is found in the ob-scure netherworld in which conferees are named. After a bill has passed both the House and Senate, it is assigned to a conference committee to iron out the differences. The two versions often carry amendments having little to do with the original purpose of the bill. These amendments would normally fall under the jurisdiction of another committee-for example, a labor amendment attached to an environmental bill. The appropriate committee of jurisdiction traditionally claimed the right to have conferees named from its membership.

In the past, this was a process refereed by the House Parliamentarian. He would determine whether the amendment fell within a committee's jurisdiction under House rules. If so, that committee got conferees. The speaker would sign off on the Parliamentarian's determination. But now that the speaker's office rules, the process is used to punish recalcitrant chairmen. One staffer tells of working on a bill that contained an amendment unrelated to his committee and wholly within the jurisdiction of the Transportation Committee. But Transportation Chairman Shuster had angered the speaker so the speaker's aide, Len Swinehart, refused to allow Shuster's committee to have any conferees on the issue. A message was being sent about who is now boss.

The speaker broke no rules. The naming of conferees has always been within the speaker's discretion. But previous speakers had allowed the process to be handled dispassionately. The current speaker sees the process as a power tool.

Under a succession of Democratic speakers, committees operated almost autonomously. There was surprisingly little interference or oversight by the speaker. He mediated conflicts between committees and dealt with legislation once it hit the floor, but how committees handled legislation before it reached the floor was largely their business.

The new speaker and majority leader, however, hold frequent meetings with all the committee chairmen. And the leadership's staff holds similar meetings with the committee staff directors. The leadership pushes its themes and urges committees to advance those themes. For example, during the first federal shutdown last year, all the committees were urged to hold hearings that would effectively place the blame on the White House rather than Congress. These leadership sessions mobilize peer pressure on recalcitrant chairmen to act as Republicans rather than as agents of the interest groups affected by their committees.

The leadership's staff also rides closer herd. Under Democratic leadership, staffers attended committee meetings, talked to Members and staffers, then wrote memos to the speaker listing what issues were important to which Members and outlining problems that could emerge on the House floor. The Democratic leadership staffers were essentially reporters who went to the committees. But Republican leader- ship staffers are managers who call committee personnel to the leadership's offices to take directions and to defend themselves.

Gingrich has moved to make the three committees with the broadest powers subject to leadership discipline. They are Appropriations (which determines budget funds), Ways and Means (which determines taxes and has jurisdiction over many entitlement programs) and Rules (which runs the floor operations of the House as a kind of traffic cop).

The Rules Committee was made to heel in the early 1960s when liberal Democrats balked at the way its southern chairman bottled up civil rights legislation. Democratic speakers named Rules Committee members and expected them to listen to the leadership. Gingrich decided it was time Appropriations and Ways and Means joined the leadership team. The chairmen of the 13 Appropriations subcommittees had been known as the College of Cardinals for their ability to act on their own. Gingrich required signed loyalty pledges from the 13 Republicans before he would assent to their taking chairmanships. He indicated he expected all members of the two committees to bow to the leadership on core Republican issues.

Gingrich's tactics are similar to those of Joseph G. Cannon, known as "Uncle Joe," who was speaker from 1903 to 1911. Cannon had immense power to bend the institution to the national perspective. He even personally named the members and chairmen of committees. "Uncle Joe," however, had something of the autocratic streak noted in another Uncle Joe (Soviet variety) which prompted a veritable rebellion that stripped Cannon of his office and future speakers of most institutional powers. Only now, more than eight decades later, is Speaker Gingrich regaining much of the authority Cannon lost.

From the Wright Side

One strong voice of disdain for Gingrich has long been that of Jim Wright, D-Texas, the House speaker from 1987 to 1989, who was hounded, harassed, pursued and pummeled by Gingrich over a book publishing deal until Wright finally resigned both his speakership and the Fort Worth, Texas, seat he held in the House for 34 years. Wright describes Gingrich's policies, proclaimed in the Contract With America, as "shallow as a saucer, distractionary . . . [and] woefully lacking in substance." And those are the nicest words Wright has for GOP policy.

But when it comes to running the House, Wright and Gingrich share the same track, although Wright thinks Gingrich blows the train whistle too much. "I have to say he did well tactically," Wright told Government Executive. "I have to give him an A on that." Wright says Gingrich is totally correct in trying to make the members on Appropriations and Ways and Means responsive to the leadership. Wright says that is exactly what he aimed to do. "I tried to cultivate the idea that these were major leadership committees and anyone desiring a place on them needed to be willing to be the servant of the Democratic Caucus, the speaker and the majority leadership," Wright said. "I was never able to make it come about to the degree I wanted." His problem was entrenched Democrats who had no intention of changing. When Gingrich took power, however, not a single Republican representative had been in office during the last Republican majority, which was in 1954. "It violated the divine right of kingship for the (Democratic) leadership to intervene" in a committee action, Wright said in a tone that signaled more than mere frustration. "He (Gingrich) didn't have to violate precedent."

But Wright cringed at the way Gingrich yanked Rep. Mark Neumann of Wisconsin off the Appropriations Committee when Neumann failed to support part of the GOP leadership's program. "You ought to lead by persuasion, not by punishment," Wright said. "We did these things in a more subtle way. We didn't try to embarrass people."

Wright told a story from the early 1980s, when he was Democratic majority leader under Speaker Thomas P. "Tip" O'Neill, who held the speakership from 1977 through 1986. The appropriations subcommittee chaired by the late Bill Natcher of Kentucky had rejected some education funds the Democratic leadership was touting as an example of how Democrats cared for education while Reaganauts didn't. Wright told Natcher the money was important and he was going to introduce an amendment on the floor to add the money. Wright did, and the amendment passed. But Wright "heard murmurs on the floor saying, 'We'll see what happens in conference,' a threat to abandon the funds in later negotiations with the Senate in the conference committee. So Wright had O'Neill appoint him as a conferee, a violation of the unwritten rule that congressmen who didn't serve on the Appropriations Committee didn't become conferees on appropriations bills. Natcher was offended, as Wright knew he would be, at this slight. It was too subtle for the general public to perceive but discernible to other congressmen as an insult, nevertheless. Wright said he offered Natcher a deal: If Natcher would protect the funds, Wright would never show his face in any conference meeting. Natcher caved.

The 1995 variant on this "Wright stuff" has a different ending. When the new Republican-controlled Appropriations Committee faced its very first conference committee with the Senate, Gingrich added Tom DeLay of Texas, the majority whip and No. 3 leadership person, as a conferee. And DeLay attended. Rather pointedly, the speaker had not even waited for a problem to develop before intervening.

Overall, Gingrich gets high marks from the man whose career he destroyed. "Who am I to fault a Republican leader who effectively pulled all those strings together? I wouldn't fault him. . . . I'm not averse to strong leadership. Otherwise the House tends to heterogeneity. Rival suzerainties rule. The House becomes awkward, clumsy, unwieldy." But Wright would like Gingrich to learn some subtlety. He said Gingrich has "much in common with Guy Fawkes," the embittered Englishman who found the solution to his disgust with Parliament in trying to blow it up in 1605.

The Republican Revolution

The Republican revolution shouldn't be exaggerated. All revolutions claim more than they accomplish. There are more interest groups out there than Gingrich can fathom, and there is more activity going on in the committees than Gingrich can get his hands around. Furthermore, some in the House feel Gingrich is not so much a policy wonk as a policy dabbler. Now that he has become speaker and has access to the dark recesses of the intelligence world, he has become enamored or, some would say, seduced by it. One example is his heavily publicized "covert" action proposal to budget $20 million to topple the government of Iran-an idea that denizens of the intelligence world, conservatives and liberals alike, generally view as naive.

On the National Defense Authorization Act, the largest single authorization bill to come before Congress each year, Gingrich last year got involved in only one topic: the Seawolf submarine. But when he got involved, he got deeply involved. Gingrich personally brokered a compromise by leading a long meeting that brought together all the powers, including the Navy secretary and the CEO of the prime contractor. This kind of detailed work was never before done by speakers. But Gingrich has become enamored of the Seawolf, which fits in with his futuristic vision.

The Speaker also intervened last year in the Commerce Committee's work on the telecommunications bill, ordering changes to benefit the "Baby Bells" at the expense of AT&T. And with the Banking Committee, he ordered changes in a bill the committee had already voted on to allow banks to sell insurance. Gingrich directed that the language be softened for the insurance industry and less beneficial to bankers. "There are 250 insurance men for every banker in America," Gingrich said, indicating that in this case his concerns were less policy than politics. But he was also imposing a national perspective on a committee known to be closer to bankers.

Words vs. Numbers

At the beginning of the new Republican era, there was considerable expectation that the so-called "authorizing" committees would become irrelevant. The authorization committees are the dozen committees that deal with "words," or policy, as opposed to the Appropriations Committee, which deals with "numbers," or budget sums. Many feared the powerful Appropriations Committee would become omnipotent. This was because Gingrich started his reign by using the 13 appropriations bills as vehicles for his confrontation with the Clinton Administration, knowing they had to be passed to keep the government functioning.

It wasn't long before all the members caught on and started tacking "words" onto the appropriations bills. In the most dramatic example, Rep. Robert K. Dornan, the California Republican who chairs the National Security Subcommittee on Military Personnel, an authorizing committee, successfully pushed a floor amendment tacking an abortion "words" amendment to the Defense Appropriations "numbers" bill. He recognized the reduced significance of his own committee's bill, and perhaps unconsciously, he thus contributed to its decline.

The worst expectations didn't come to pass, however. Chairman Livingston of Appropriations had a full plate and was not interested in a power grab, and he did not encourage the trend to make his committee omnipotent. Also, the loading down of appropriations bills with controversial words brought the legislative process to a grinding halt. Number disputes are readily compromised by just splitting the difference, but word disputes are complex. Dornan's abortion language held up the defense bill for weeks. An amendment to ban lobbying by groups that receive government funds brought action on the Transportation Appropriations bill to a complete halt more than four months into the fiscal year. Livingston was aghast. "This system begins to stop when you start piling too much on these bills," he was quoted as saying by The Wall Street Journal.

The authorizers are still in the ring, but they have become slightly less relevant and considerably less independent. Executive branch managers looking to get some issue addressed in legislation can still work with their authorizing committees. But, if their issue becomes too visible, they will have to contend with the prospect that Speaker Gingrich, his powerful staff or some other member of the Republican leadership will intervene. The message is: Keep a low profile.

When all is said and done, Gingrich has made one simple but far-reaching change. Committee chairmen are no longer barons running their own fiefdoms independent of the king. Now they are mere noblemen who must bow before the might of the emperor or risk losing all that makes them noblemen, including their heads. The speaker is no longer King John, forced by the barons to sign the Magna Carta recognizing their independent status. Speaker Gingrich is Czar Ivan the Terrible who lets no offense pass without swift retribution. This is not bloody-mindedness by Newt Gingrich. It is the cool calculation of a thoughtful politician who believes power exists only if it is exercised. Speaker Gingrich has carefully researched the authorities of his office and is exercising them-even such obscure powers as the naming of conferees.

Will It Last?

Some suspect all this is a momentary phase, not a permanent change. One scholar who observes the House says, "I'm skeptical about projecting current trends. Some chairmen are just waiting for the opportunity to reassert their autonomy. You have to ask: How much will Henry Hyde [Judiciary Committee chairman] and Bud Shuster take?"

This view assumes that what we have seen so far is historically unique. "What happened last year evolved from the unparalleled unity of the Republican freshman and sophomore classes [those elected in 1992 and 1994], from their lack of roots in the institution [of the House] and from their indebtedness to Newt Gingrich," the scholar says. But will this last? Many think the centralization of power seen in 1995 will turn out to be a brief zenith rather than a permanent power shift. They point out that the freshmen and sophomores criticized the institution of the House in their campaigns. But they aren't the first congressmen to do so. Even in the 19th century, it was popular for candidates to trash Congress and promise to do everything differently if elected. It's nothing new to damn "Potomac Fever." Yet somehow the "flaming freshmen" of yore tend to end up as the institutional leaders of tomorrow. That long view suggests to some that "Czar Gingrich" will be reduced to a mere speaker before long.

Will that mean a return to the old days of 435 independent baronies? Not necessarily. Yes, 1995 was probably a zenith for concentrated power, but when the GOP freshmen see electoral doom ahead, they may decide it is better to leave the herd and tend the home fires. As they stick around, they will want to stay around. They will learn the ways of Washington and want to be their own masters. Yes, the Henry Hydes will grab back power. When all is said and done, power in 1997 will not be as centralized as in 1995. But it may still be far more centralized than before Gingrich ascended to the speaker's chair.