Stirring Back into Action

For both Gerald Ford and the Congress, the diversions of summer are over. After summitry at Helsinki, vacationing in the Rockies and politicking in the Midwest, Ford returned to an increasingly political Washington approaching the start of an election year. At week's end he took to the skies again, flying into Maine and Rhode Island for more speeches, but that excursion would provide only a brief respite. Congress, too, will end its vacation this week, and as the capital stirs back into life, it finds the nation's worst problems persisting.

The President's popularity has steadily eroded with the dwindling days of summer. The latest Harris Poll shows his approval rating at only 36%--equal to the previous low point in his presidency last January. This evidence of public disapproval may be somewhat exaggerated, as were the hosannas celebrating the first anniversary of Ford's takeover from Nixon. His assets remain the same: honesty, directness, considerable political skill. When he promises, as he did last week, to "get the Government ... out of your lives, out of your pocketbooks and out of your hair," he is in tune with a widespread mood. At the same time, such pledges can hardly be sufficient in the long run. Perhaps unfairly and illogically, but inevitably, Ford is now blamed for all sorts of problems, present and anticipated.

Basic Programs. Although some economists saw the trend as only temporary, inflation was climbing again and unemployment remained high (8.4%). A natural-gas shortage of about 14% is predicted for the winter. Gasoline and fuel-oil prices will almost certainly rise, regardless of last week's compromise between Ford and congressional leaders on a gradual lifting of price controls on most domestic oil (see ECONOMY & BUSINESS). The showdown over the President's $60 billion deficit federal budget is approaching as the big appropriations bills for basic programs like defense, foreign aid and aid to education reach the floors of House and Senate.

One sign of the increasing edginess in Washington is the rising controversy over the sale of American grain to the Soviet Union. The Ford Administration has publicly endorsed the sale but the AFL-CIO's president, George Meany, vowed that the International Longshoremen's Association would not load such grain unless Ford did more to "protect the American consumer and the American shipping industry." He declared that the Administration must come to him with such guarantees and "with Dr. Kissinger at the head of the parade." Growled Meany: "Foreign policy is too damned important to be left to the Secretary of State."

Federal courts in Texas have already insisted that the Longshoremen have no right to block the Soviet shipments, but in an effort to placate the 81-year-old union leader, Ford invited him to the White House for a little domestic detente. During the meeting, Meany behaved like a vaudevillian doing impersonations: now he was Henry Kissinger with a Bronx accent, then he was a bit of Earl Butz, checking the rain reports from Iowa. In all, the talks were cordial, although no official agreement was reached. At week's end Meany unkindly issued a new Labor Day blast at the Administration, claiming that it placed "dollar signs ahead of people" and its policies would force Americans to "accept a lower standard of living."

TIME'S Washington bureau chief Hugh Sidey saw the Meany attack as evidence of Ford's growing vulnerability to criticism. Reported Sidey:

Meany has been on the stage for a long time, and if one did not look closely, his performance might have seemed routine. It was not. It was one more sign of a growing trend by pressure groups that have discerned the intricate interdependency of U.S. society and their ability to force their views on the nation in almost any area by threatening to wound the entire society.

There are no income or social barriers to such behavior. Doctors and oil company executives do the same thing as auto workers and coal miners. Teachers and civil servants are growing as militant as Teamsters. The issues are so complex that dozens of legislators, agencies, departments and associations have interests in them.

If Ford senses the new view from his Oval Office, it is not especially apparent. There is no thought-out response or program to counteract these spasms of organized complaint. Ford and his Cabinet officers meet and talk and bargain on each case as it comes along, but they seem to run before the tide rather than try to direct it. Maybe there is no way to lead such massive forces; maybe there should be no attempt.

"When there is a leadership vacuum, somebody moves in," says an AFL-CIO officer. "That's the way it should be." The refrain is echoed up and down Washington. It may be the most serious challenge to Ford's stewardship.

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