A NEW ADMINISTRATION TAKES SHAPE

COVER STORY

THE men suggest cool competence I rather than passion or brilliance. They are problem solvers rather than idea brokers. They span the Republican midsection from the moderate progressives to the responsible conservatives, stopping short of ideological extremes. They are mostly affluent, some in the millionaire bracket, but they earned their money rather than inheriting it. There are no blooded patricians in the lot, just strivers who have acted out the middle-class dream. Thus, as much as any dozen individuals can, Richard Nixon's new Cabinet members mirror the qualities of their boss, of the campaign he waged, of the aspirations of the constituency that elected him.

After studying the evolution of Cabinets from George Washington's first appointees onward, Political Scientist Richard F. Fenno Jr. wrote: "The Cabinet is the show window of the Administration, and a favorable reception for the group will be an asset the President can use to augment his own public image." Nixon obviously agrees with that lesson in history. He unveiled his creation as a unit last week, the first time that has been done since Woodrow Wilson's mass announcement in 1913--and the first time ever as a live television show.

As a political What's My Line?, the 30-minute production was a little flat; the news of the nominations had all dribbled out well ahead of air time. But as an indication of Nixon's intention to invest the Cabinet with more prestige and responsibility than most of its recent predecessors, the show was a good beginning. New department heads are rarely well known to the public; now Nixon's men are a little better known.

Nixon also succeeded in conveying to his audience a sense of esprit and solidity at the top, even if most of the appointments did little to add to the public knowledge of the precise directions his policies will take.

A Tested Supporting Cast

If the Nixon Cabinet seems to be constructed more of grey fieldstone than glinting steel and glass, so does its architect. If it is short on commitments on specific issues, so is Nixon. If seven of the twelve live west of the Alleghenies, that was the source of the votes. Though a son of the Pacific Coast and a man of the Atlantic, Nixon has always had his political heart in the Midwest.

The group is also somewhat more homogeneous than the cross section that Nixon sought. Earlier he had promised to put together "a Government drawn from the broadest possible base, an Administration made up of Republicans, Democrats and independents," one comprising "the very best men and women I can find in the country--from business, from government, from labor, from all the areas." Not by choice, he ended up with a group that is all white, all male, all Republican. As a rather obvious gesture of compensation, Nixon began the TV show by reappointing Walter Washington, a Negro Democrat, to a second term as commissioner, or mayor, of Washington, D.C. Black leaders were not appeased. Said Clarence Mitchell, N.A.A.C.P. director in the Capital: "Johnson, a President from Texas, desegregated the Cabinet, while Nixon, a President from California, resegregated the Cabinet."

The new Cabinet is heavily weighted with men of business backgrounds. Three got rich in the construction industry: Massachusetts Governor John Volpe (Secretary of Transportation), Alaska Governor Walter Hickel (Interior), and Chamber of Commerce President Winton Blount (Postmaster General). The best-known figure in the group, Michigan Governor George Romney (Housing and Urban Development), was head of American Motors.

The two academicians in the Cabinet, Chancellor Clifford Hardin of the University of Nebraska (Agriculture) and George Shultz, dean of the University of Chicago's Graduate School of Business (Labor), made their marks as administrators as much as scholars. David Kennedy (Treasury) is a Chicago banker so well regarded by both parties that Lyndon Johnson invited him to head the Treasury in 1965.

The Why of the Rogers Appointment

More than most Presidents-elect, Nixon relied heavily on the supporting cast he has learned to trust from close experience. Maurice Stans (Commerce) is a colleague from the Eisenhower days and a longtime Republican fund raiser. John Mitchell (Attorney General) was Nixon's law partner and campaign manager. Wisconsin Congressman Melvin Laird (Defense) has served Nixon occasionally as an adviser. California Lieutenant Governor Robert Finch (Health, Education and Welfare) is an old friend, campaign aide and confidant. In fact, Finch is matched in the boss's esteem only by William Pierce Rogers, Attorney General in the Eisenhower Administration, whom Nixon selected to become the 55th Secretary of State and Keeper of the Great Seal of the United States. Over the years, Nixon has reserved his friendship for few men. With intimates like Finch, Mitchell and Rogers heading major departments, what in other Administrations would serve as a Kitchen Cabinet will be officially installed in the parlor.

Rogers was the nominee who aroused most interest. Despite all the speculation, his name did not leak out until early last week. Moreover, Rogers has virtually no significant experience in foreign affairs beyond a good-will mission to West Africa during the Eisenhower Administration and a brief stint last year as delegate to the United Nations Ad Hoc Committee on Southwest Africa.

"According to the papers," Rogers quipped after the news became official, "I was the last one asked to the prom." Not quite. Nixon had had Rogers in mind for Secretary of State for some time. Rogers has enjoyed Nixon's complete trust since the 1952 campaign, when he advised Nixon during the furor over the "Nixon fund" and helped frame the famous Checkers speech. In 1955, when Eisenhower suffered a heart attack, Nixon turned to Rogers before anyone else. "He was a friend," Nixon later wrote in Six Crises, "who had proved during the fund crisis that he was a cool man under pressure, had excellent judgment, and was one to whom I could speak with complete freedom without any concern that what I might say would find its way into the Washington gossip mill."

"Judgment," being "cool under pressure"--these are attributes Nixon prizes in subordinates; he used the terms repeatedly last week in introducing his men. (He also used the phrase "extra dimension" ten times during the TV program.) Loyalty is another quality Nixon seeks, and he has obviously found it in Rogers, who says: "The only thing a Cabinet officer should have in mind is the success of the Administration."

Rogers' very lack of previous involvement in diplomacy--several German papers referred to him as an unbeschrie-benes Blatt (blank page)--is not a drawback as far as Nixon is concerned. He intends to be his own policymaker in foreign affairs; most Presidents are. Nixon has often called diplomacy his "strong suit," the field in which he will "call the turn," and does not need another John Foster Dulles. He does need an able administrator to run, and, if possible, streamline a disorganized department, a skilled and well-liked advocate on Capitol Hill, a shrewd and discerning representative in dealings with allies and foes abroad. For these assignments Rogers is already qualified. Nixon emphasized that his friend was a "superb negotiator" and recalled his own previous statements that the time had come for an "era of negotiation" with the Communists.

As for advocating specific policies, Rogers is not expected to be bashful once he has immersed himself in the subject. His associates speak of him as anything but a mere mouthpiece, rather as one who is likely to assert his own and his department's views vigorously. Having total access to the President will be an obvious advantage. Senator Jacob Javits thinks the Nixon-Rogers relationship "might be like that of John and Robert Kennedy." If so, State may regain some of the influence it lost to the Pentagon when it could not compete with the strong leadership of former Defense Secretary Robert McNamara.

Like many of his colleagues in the new Cabinet, Bill Rogers comes to his job both free of the burden of past commitments and unscarred by old fights. Says Under Secretary of State Nicholas Katzenbach: "Rogers doesn't have to live with a lot of previously written books." In an interview with TIME Cor respondent Jess Cook Jr., Rogers observed: "I haven't any emotional ties to the past. I'm not associated with any school of thought. Sure, there are some disadvantages in that I don't have the background of others. I'm going to do a lot of listening and reading in the next 30 or 40 days." High on his reading list were the works of Professor Henry Kissinger, who will be Nixon's Assistant for National Security Affairs.

The Problems Abroad

Blank page or not, Rogers next month will have to face the full range of troubles overseas. His overriding concern, of course, will be Viet Nam. His personal views on that are a mystery. "I have never said or written a word about Viet Nam," he observed. "I'm very happy about that." He will have to start speaking soon enough on this and other subjects. While Nixon never became very precise during the campaign on foreign policy issues, his general statements --and the obvious pressure points overseas--provide a relatively clear agenda.

In the likely event that there will be no breakthrough in the Paris talks in the next month, the new Administration must then attempt to find a settlement formula. If he cannot achieve the "honorable" terms he talked of during the campaign, Nixon's prospects for a successful Administration are practically nil. Beyond Viet Nam, Nixon is pledged to a "new diplomacy." Its aim is to concentrate heavily on the search for common ground with the Soviets and the rehabilitation of the Atlantic Alliance, to reach understanding with other allies to prevent full U.S. involvement in future situations like Viet Nam and, not least, to find some way to calm the volcanic Middle Eastern situation.

Precisely how all of this will be attempted is still unclear. During the campaign, for instance, Nixon declared that the U.S. must help Israel maintain clear military superiority over the Arabs. Last week, however, William Scranton, Nixon's roving fact finder, said while in the Middle East that the U.S. should adopt a more "evenhanded" approach. He repeated the phrase after reporting to Nixon in New York. Scranton's implication was clear: the U.S. had been unfair to the Arab states. Nixon himself has not indicated any modification in U.S. policy, and Israel's Moshe Dayan said after conferring with Nixon that he did not anticipate any reduction of U.S. support for his country. But Scranton's remarks at least hinted that the Nixon Administration would look for new ways to mollify the Arabs.

Common Beginnings, Parallel Paths

Then there are tough questions of what to say to the Chinese Communists in February, when talks at the ambassadorial level might conceivably begin to defrost relations between Washington and Peking; how to react if the Russians move again in Eastern Europe; what new directions foreign aid should take. No one expects Rogers to make snap answers or to advocate wrenching moves. His appointment, in fact, was welcomed in Washington by Democrats and Republicans alike. Chairman J. William Fulbright of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, who has found little good to say about Democrat Dean Rusk, said of Rogers: "He is a man of unquestioned integrity and ability. Although he has not had extensive experience directly in the field of foreign relations, I feel sure that his common sense and good judgment will serve the country well." Majority Leader Mike Mansfield called Rogers "an excellent choice." Years ago Nixon said of his friend: "He is more cautious than I am as to what ought to be done in most instances. I will take chances and move aggressively sometimes when he would not. This is good, for I know that he can always see the pitfalls of any course of action."

Perhaps another reason for the Nixon-Rogers bond is the remarkable similarity of background and development. Both were born to families of modest means in small towns 55 years ago, Rogers in Norfolk, N.Y., where his father was a cashier in a paper mill. Both boys went to work early, Rogers at age 14 as a photographer's assistant. They had to scrape for their education: scholarships, some help from his family and income from an assortment of jobs (dishwasher, waiter, door-to-door salesman of brushes) got Rogers through college at Colgate and law school at Cornell. Both excelled as law students. They each married relatively young, Rogers to Adele Langston,* a classmate at Cornell Law, who gave up her own career to rear three sons and a daughter.

World War II brought both men Navy commissions. They even trained at the same Rhode Island base before shipping out to the Pacific, but they did not really get to know each other until 1947.

By then, Nixon was a newly elected Congressman and Rogers the counsel for the Senate Special Committee to Investigate the National Defense Program. It was in this period after World War II that Nixon formed most of his enduring friendships--with Rogers, with Florida Businessman Bebe Rebozo, with Bob Finch and Herb Klein.

The parallel paths of Nixon and Rogers continued as both made names for themselves as investigators in the big scandals of the Truman Administration.

Nixon, a member of the House Un-American Activities Committee, became known primarily because of the Alger Hiss case, while Rogers pursued the five-percenters and saw some of them sentenced to jail. Rogers had earned so good a reputation for the way he conducted investigations that when the Democrats took control of his reconstituted committee after 1948, he was kept on as chief counsel of an investigating subcommittee. At the 1952 convention, both men worked for Eisenhower's nomination. The Vice Presidentelect recommended his friend for the No. 2 spot in the Justice Department, and when Attorney General Herbert Brownell resigned in 1957, Rogers, then 44, succeeded him. Rogers was best known for vigorous prosecution of antitrust cases and for his part in drafting the 1957 civil rights bill and pushing it through Congress.

The Republican defeat in 1960 sent both men back to private law practice. Rogers rejoined the New York-Washington firm now known as Royall, Koegel, Rogers & Wells, practicing general corporate law. He is now a senior partner, with an income of about $300,000 a year, clients such as 20th Century-Fox, the Associated Press and the International Herald Tribune, a home in Bethesda, Md., and a New York apartment overlooking the East River. Yet his life-style is not pretentious. His Washington office is smallish. His home is roomy but not luxurious; the swimming pool in back is a small one. After learning that he would be the next Secretary of State, he dined in the kitchen on his wife's cooking.

Resisting the Draft

Unlike Nixon, Rogers enjoyed private life. Urbane, tall (6 ft. 1 in.), affable and attractive, he is known around Washington as a kind of Republican Clark Clifford. "But," says Jack Javits, "he's got even more cool than Clark, and that's saying a lot." "I didn't want to get back into public life," Rogers said last week. "I didn't seek it. I thought there are others certainly better qualified. But when the President-elect asks, you have no choice."

Rogers did resist the draft, but only feebly. Nixon gave him his greetings personally in a conversation on Dec. 1. The next day Rogers saw his physician for the first checkup he has had in several years. "I'm not able to handle a tough job like that, am I, doctor?" he joked. But in his own mind there was little question about his health. He feels fine, is a frequent golfer and squash player, drinks little and does not smoke. "I'm sorry to say," the doctor said after the examination, "that you're in A-l condition." On Dec. 3, Rogers told Nixon that he would take the post.

Another key post for which Nixon wanted a man he knew intimately was that of Attorney General. He settled on John Mitchell, the dour-looking lawyer whom Nixon once called "the heavyweight" because of his acumen and administrative talents. Mitchell had sworn vehemently to anyone who would listen that he would take no post in the Administration. Nixon surprised many who remembered his 1960 campaign by heeding most of his manager's recommendations. Mitchell opposed attacking George Wallace, for example, and was one of those who urged the nomination of Spiro Agnew for Vice President. He also was among those advocating that disaffected whites be addressed not only with the law-and-order appeal but with arguments supporting the legitimacy of Negro demands.

Mitchell was not universally popular in the Nixon entourage. He signed on later than some of the charter mem bers, and a few of the campaign aides found his no-nonsense attitude auto cratic. He stayed high in Nixon's esteem, however, and soon after the election the boss pegged him for Attorney General, refusing to take no for an answer. It will be Mitchell's task to make good on one of Nixon's most specific campaign pledges: to check the rising crime rate by improving law enforcement and related services. Mitchell's personal views and record in this field are invisible. If he is going to come anywhere near to fulfilling Nixon's rhetoric, the Justice Department will have to adopt more of a police approach, with less emphasis on civil liberties than existed under Ramsey Clark and Nicholas Katzenbach. Mitchell is likely to employ wiretapping against organized crime. His department will draw up new legislation providing federal help for local police services.

Manning the Pentagon

Finding the right man to be Secretary of Defense proved a more difficult chore. At first the President-elect considered retaining Clifford, who would have supplied both experience in the job and the Democratic presence that Nixon wanted for the Cabinet. Then Nixon decided against keeping any of the present Cabinet officers. Using Florida Democrat George Smathers as their intermediary, the Nixon camp next sounded out Democratic Senator Henry ("Scoop") Jackson of Washington. Jackson expressed interest, but had a number of conditions. Among them was an agreement that Nixon would persuade Governor Dan Evans, a Republican, to appoint a Democrat as Jackson's successor.

Nixon was so eager to recruit Jackson that he was willing to forego the gain of a Senate seat. Jackson, however, was advised by fellow Democrats that he would be foolish to surrender 16 years of seniority for the politically hazardous post of Defense Secretary, where he could become a lightning rod for criticism from his own party. Jackson withdrew a week before Nixon wanted to announce the Cabinet.

Nixon then turned to Melvin Laird, who is regarded as one of the shrewdest Republicans on Capitol Hill as well as one of the best-versed in public policy. For 14 of his 16 years in the House, he has been on the Appropriations Subcommittee, dealing with Defense, and has become an expert in the field. He knows the department's budget thoroughly, is acquainted with many military leaders, and has an intimate knowledge of Pentagon practices and politics. Laird was also an outspoken critic of McNamara on a number of is sues, berating him, as did other conservatives on Capitol Hill, for ignoring the professional judgment of the military chiefs and for failing to procure more new weapons systems.

In 1962, Laird published A House Divided--America's Strategy Gap, which argued strongly in favor of the rockiest of hard lines in military and foreign policy. He inveighed against 20th century revolutionary movements, and condemned the United Nations as "dominated by new, unstable nations." He blamed the failure to intervene in Hun ary in 1956 on Washington's "immoral and suicidal willingness to act as if there were Communist legitimacy." The U.S. had allowed itself to become intimidated by the fear of nuclear war, he said. "Above all," Laird concluded, "while we have the power, we must aim at confronting the enemy directly.

We can win every such confrontation." Later, he attacked the Johnson Administration for not prosecuting the Viet Nam war more vigorously.

In the last year or so, however, Laird seems to have moderated his views. He is for a negotiated settlement in Viet Nam, knowing that no other course is politically feasible. At his first press conference as Secretary-designate, he expressed the hope that the Viet Nam war would be over within a year. He still favors beefing up the U.S. military machine roughly along the lines advocated by the Joint Chiefs of Staff--converting the Navy to nuclear power, giving the Air Force the advanced manned bomber it has been seeking for years, going ahead with the Army's anti-ballistic missile system, modernizing and perhaps expanding the Strategic Air Command's missile arsenal beyond present plans. All of this is at least generally in tune with Nixon's campaign talk about a "security gap." Both men are aware, of course, that buying these and other weapons systems would cost tens of billions that would be almost impossible to obtain under present circumstances. Thus a wholesale expansion of arms development and procurement is unlikely.

Despite his interest in the field and his general agreement with Nixon, Laird was reluctant to take a Cabinet post. Earlier, he had turned down Health, Education and Welfare, another area of his expertise. He pointed out to Nixon and to Bryce Harlow, who will be White House aide for congressional relations, that he had 16 years of congressional seniority, that he could help the Nixon program in the House, that he hoped to be House Speaker some day, that he was a lifelong legislator, not an administrator. Nixon's reply: "I need you." On Dec. 7, Laird yielded.

All along, Nixon was looking for a Negro of stature and ability. Three are known to have rejected his offers: Whitney Young Jr., executive director of the National Urban League; Senator Edward Brooke of Massachusetts, and Mrs. Ersa Poston, president of the New York Civil Service Commission. Now the Nix on scouts are hunting for black officials at the sub-Cabinet level.

Nixon had also been trying to get a big-name Democrat, or at least a big name, for the ambassadorship to the United Nations. The post is not technically of Cabinet rank, but since the Eisenhower Administration it has had a quasi-Cabinet cachet. The fact that it also has very little real power makes it an ideal place in which to put an erstwhile opponent. Nixon offered it first to Hubert Humphrey, who soon said no. Next Nelson Rockefeller got a hint that the job might be his. Not interested. Nixon then approached Sargent Shriver, who was interested but hesitated about taking the post after talking to some of his in-laws. So last week Rogers called on Senator Eugene McCarthy and sounded him out. Would he, asked Rogers, consider the U.N. if Shriver declined?

McCarthy requested time to think about it. He wondered about his Sen ate seat. Would Nixon prevail on Minnesota Governor Harold LeVander to appoint a Democratic successor? Not just any Democrat, but Hubert Humphrey in particular? After word came that LeVander would not cooperate, Nixon himself called McCarthy while the Senator was lunching at Washington's Sans Souci restaurant to relay the rebuff. Thereupon McCarthy decided to forget about it. At the end of last week, the post was still unfilled.

Ph.D. for Cities

One Democrat who consented to work for Nixon without undue resistance was Urbanologist Daniel Patrick Moynihan, a member of Americans for Democratic Action, former Assistant Secretary of Labor and currently director of the Joint Center for Urban Studies run by Harvard and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. A liberal who sometimes infuriates fellow liberals by his impatience with orthodoxy of any kind (he is skeptical of big federally run programs, but not of heavy federal spending for social purposes), Moynihan, 41, will not occupy a Cabinet post as such. Instead, he will be a presidential aide and chief adviser to a new Cabinet-level Council on Urban Affairs. Nixon described the new body as comparable to the National Security Council. Moynihan will provide the planning and coordinating services, just as Kissinger will do for the NSC. With the President as chair man, the council will include Housing and Urban Development, Health, Education and Welfare, and Transportation. Other department heads will sit in from time to time.

With the possible exception of Laird, Moynihan is easily the most controversial personality Nixon has yet appointed to an important post. He is also likely to be one of the most uncomfortable. He disagrees with the predominant sentiment of the new Ad ministration on some issues, particularly in his support of a role for the Federal Government as the "employer of last resort" of the hard-core unemployed and for a war on poverty with a comprehensive family allowance plan. Nixon publicly acknowledged the differences last week, gamely cracking: "Dr. Moynihan and I agree that what this country needs is a good 500 hamburger." Also, neither Finch at HEW nor Romney at HUD is likely to give ground to the Ph.D.-in-residence if disputes arise. Finch, who is ambitious and has a special rapport with Nixon that Moynihan could never hope to match, is likely to be a particularly tough opponent.

All the principals agree that the 435 separate domestic programs Moynihan disparaged last week as "antiquated" need combing out. Where to go from there, which of the Great Society ventures to keep, which to modify, which to abandon, how fast to go, how much money to invest, how to implement Nixon's goal of relying primarily on private enterprise--all these questions mean problems and potential conflicts.

Yet Nixon's determination to set up the Council on Urban Affairs indicated an awareness of the urgency of city problems that did not always come through during the campaign. Leaders of the

Urban Coalition, whose program is much closer to Humphrey's than to Nixon's, came away from meeting with the President-elect impressed with his sincerity about making the new council work. "If ever there was a thing that was needed," said one, "it is to have these departments pull together. They've been pulling apart for years."

Cabinet History

The creation of the council, which will be formed by executive order rather than by legislation, underscored Nixon's desire to make the Cabinet a functioning organ of the executive branch. The popular conception of the Cabinet as some sort of collegial center of authority, in which members make decisions collectively, has rarely been supported by facts, and is certainly not Nixon's goal now. In recent decades particularly, the Cabinet has not really functioned as a unit of any kind. It is, said Historian Clinton Rossiter in 1956, "at best a relic of a simpler past."

Generally speaking, the stronger the President, the less his reliance either on the Cabinet as a body or on Cabinet members as individual advisers. Jack son and Lincoln,* Theodore Roosevelt and Cousin Franklin, John Kennedy and Lyndon Johnson, all found the Cabinet a cumbersome entity. During the transition eight years ago, Kennedy inquired of three of his staff aides: "Just what in hell is a Cabinet for?" He never found a satisfactory answer.

Many Presidents have relied heavily on an inner ring of personal aides and cronies. Jackson's coterie was the first to be known as the Kitchen Cabinet, and sometimes seemed to rival the official Cabinet in influence. Wilson had his Colonel Edward House, F.D.R. had Harry Hopkins and other assistants. Roosevelt kept Cordell Hull as Secretary of State for twelve years, but somehow neglected to take him to the important wartime conferences with Allied leaders. Even Eisenhower, who attempted to give the Cabinet status by appointing a Cabinet secretary and having regular agendas prepared for meetings, had his Sherman Adams.

Lyndon Johnson also attempted to restore some importance to Cabinet proceedings, but he is by nature averse to open disputation, particularly if the view in dispute is his own. Participants in his Cabinet meetings recall listening to much trivia--the type of latrines being installed in Resurrection City, the kind of doors being used at Dulles Airport, presidential admonitions about the high cost of printing Government documents.

Solidity and Serenity

Nixon does not intend to yield his decision-making powers to his Cabinet. Nor is he likely to boast, as Calvin Coolidge did, that he listens only to advisers "provided by the Constitution and the law." But he does seem convinced that it is a mistake for a President and his immediate staff to attempt to concentrate all the engines of authority in the White House. He has encouraged his Cabinet members to play an active part in selecting their own ranking subordinates. In the past, department heads have sometimes had no say in choosing their deputies and assistants.

Nixon also seems genuinely interested in hearing divergent opinions. Early in his campaign he chose aides from both the G.O.P.'s liberal and conservative wings. The pattern has continued through the choosing of the Cabinet. Last week he boasted: "I haven't found any one of them who agrees with me completely on everything that ought to be done. But that's all to the good. I don't want a Cabinet of yes-men." If Nixon sticks to his determination to keep his mind and ears open, and if his department chiefs rise to the challenge, the new crew should have a good chance of creating the "open administration" that Nixon has promised.

For the time being, Nixon has at least managed to convey the impression of workmanlike determination at the top. What his men lack in glamour or fame they compensate for in records of accomplishment. Even Democratic National Chairman Lawrence O'Brien, himself a former Postmaster General, called the new Cabinet "a group of distinguished men with fine backgrounds." If the Cabinet seems somewhat uniform in composition, it nonetheless bears an air of solidity and serenity that could serve the nation well after this year of contention.

* It was Adele Rogers who showed up for the TV show with her leg in a cast, the result of an operation for a poorly mended broken ankle. Nixon autographed the cast, quipped to photographers: "This is the only time you'll see the President with his hand on the knee of the wife of the Secretary of State."

* Who is reputed to have said at one Cabinet meeting: "Seven nays and one aye. The ayes have it."

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