Government in the Heartland

WASHINGTON, D.C., is in some ways the most untypical of American cities: a federal enclave with the psychology of a company town. For some time, Richard Nixon has argued that the capital must be more in touch with the "heartland of America"--that geographical and psychological region which also happens to be the home of his constituency. Under his New Federalism, the President wants to diffuse not only the nation's decision-making powers but also the very location of power. Thus last summer he moved the White House for four weeks to San Clemente, holding presidential dinners in San Francisco and Los Angeles. Last week, Nixon packed Cabinet members and White House aides into Air Force One and took the Government to Middle America.

"I want Washington to know the nation better than it does." Nixon told welcoming crowds in Indianapolis. "I firmly believe that the people know best." The presidential party met for more than two and a half hours with ten mayors of medium-sized cities, exchanging notes and briefings on urban policies. Then Nixon flew to Chicago to talk with four Midwestern Republican Governors about the pollution of the Great Lakes. In terms of immediate action, the trip probably had limited value, but that was not entirely the point. The larger motives were psychological and--inevitably in a campaign year--political.

With his trip, Nixon meant to suggest a different style of presidency. "When they come to Washington," he explained, "people are kind of overawed, and we tend to talk too much. When we go out here, this is their country, and they do more of the talking." Most of the mayors in Indianapolis were impressed by the gesture of accessibility. Said San Diego's Frank Curran, a Democrat: "It was brand new, having the President and his men come down off their pedestal to talk. We weren't talking up to the judge on the bench."

Moveable Feast. Even with such a small group, the new rapport was important, for many of the nation's mayors have complained that the Administration has favored state governments over municipalities. Presidential Counsellor Daniel P. Moynihan gave the ten mayors the Administration's first cohesive statement of urban policies. The outline emphasized the need to adjust federal programs so that highway projects, for example, do not merely aggravate urban problems. City governments should be strengthened through consolidation with surrounding communities. Metropolitan areas, said the Administration, should equalize their services, so that, for example, inner-city schools will have the same quality as those in suburbs. Omitting the previous emphasis on law and order, the program concluded: "The poverty and social isolation of minority groups in central cities is the single most serious problem of the American city today, and we must attack the urgent problem with a greater commitment of resources.''

Nixon's moveable feast brought political dividends from the electorate as well--which may prompt a series of repeat performances. If the President had invited the mayors and Governors to Washington, few in the heartland would have noticed. As it was, regional newspapers in Indiana and Illinois bannered news of the visit, and many people felt a glow from the knowledge that the President would conduct the nation's business in their cities. Chicago's Mayor Richard Daley sponsored an extravagant welcome, with posters of greeting on every lamppost along the lakefront and fireboats plying the shores of Lake Michigan, spuming red, white and blue colored water. One minor flaw: none of the signs mentioned Nixon's name, and one group turned up with atavistic placards that said: ALL THE WAY WITH L.B.J.

On a side trip to Hanover Park outside Chicago to visit a sewage-treatment plant, the President issued his formulation of the "new three Rs"--Reform of governmental institutions. Restoration of the nation's natural resources and Renewal of the spirit of the American people. Along the way, the President countered Democratic criticism that his program to spend $10 billion on water pollution over the next five years is not nearly adequate. His advisers thought the money sufficient, Nixon insisted, but ''whatever it costs, we are going to do the job."

The excursion also presented Pat Nixon in a new role, branching off from the presidential party to visit a retarded-children's school, a nuclear generating station and the Goose Lake Prairie region in Illinois. It was the first time that she had traveled as an auxiliary to the President, to underscore the issues with which he was dealing.

News Digest. In a sense, Nixon's trip was a sort of spiritual homecoming and a chance to take a fresh reading on the sentiments of the Midwest. But in the months of his presidency, Nixon has never really been away. Some political analysts have pondered his sensitive feeling for the mood of the majority. He has gauged the popular feeling on inflation, the war and other issues with a sure instinct that has led some to wonder where he gets his information on the country's moods.

At the moment, Nixon probably needs to worry less than most Presidents about isolation from the majority of voters --but perhaps more than most about isolation from the minorities. Nixon reads the sports pages, goes to ball games, watches television, bowls, plays golf. At the White House, he is surrounded by such aides as H. R. Haldeman and John Ehrlichman, who share his tastes and particular style.

Nixon reads the polls. Every day, White House Staff Assistant Patrick Buchanan and his aides prepare for the President a news digest culled from 54 newspapers, the television networks, 20 magazines and three newsletters. Buchanan himself adds a 500-word wrapup. "We spot trends early," says Buchanan. "For example, we might see the same theme popping up in The Nation and Ramparts--we would see that as a trend in the liberal community."

Rubber Chicken. White House callers are a rich source. Says an aide: "Every visitor to his office, every guest at his table is bringing in information on what the country is concerned about. When he talks to a business friend on the phone or plays golf with Billy Graham, he's finding out what people are thinking." Some of Nixon's non-Washington friends --such as Richard Moore, a Western broadcasting executive, or Don Kendall of PepsiCo, Inc.--say that when they are with the President, he probes constantly for their views. Says Kendall: "He picks your brains without your realizing it's ever happening to you."

Nixon scarcely needs to learn from visiting businessmen. In his eight years of political exile, he often roamed the nation as a plain, harried citizen, carrying his bag and fighting airline schedules, eating hamburgers and rubber chicken. The experience taught him a lot about what pleases Americans and what makes them mad. Nixon listens to his advisers; but when he wants to know what his constituency is thinking in Indianapolis, he does not really have to fly there. Often enough, he can simply listen to himself.

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