Riding into the Sunrise

By WALTER ISAACSON

The next President makes the final preparations for his New Beginning

It was nearly lunchtime one day last week when Vice President Walter Mondale led 43 Senators into the cavernous and half-empty House chamber, sat next to House Speaker Tip O'Neill on the rostrum and began one of the oddest--but necessary--rituals of American presidential politics. Exactly two months earlier, Ronald Wilson Reagan had been elected President; in exactly two weeks, he would be inaugurated. Yet, under the cumbersome election procedures set forth in the U.S. Constitution, he was not yet officially President-elect of the United States. One by one, Mondale opened 51 sealed envelopes, which contained certificates reporting the results of Dec. 15, when presidential electors cast their ballots in the 50 states and District of Columbia. As each return was announced, there was an occasional smattering of applause from either the Democratic or, more often, the Republican side of the aisle. Then two Senators and two Representatives acting as tellers added up the totals and reported them to Mondale. He intoned: "Ronald Reagan, of the State of California, has received for President of the United States 489 votes; Jimmy Carter, of the State of Georgia, has received 49 votes."

At the moment November's election results were made official, the winner was at the other end of Pennsylvania Avenue, on his third journey east since Election Day, presiding over a lunch at Blair House for women members of Congress. There he was given a preview of the demands that will begin to supplant the ritual once he is in the White House. Democrat Shirley Chisholm, whose district contains Brooklyn's Bedford-Stuyvesant ghetto, asked what he was going to do about jobs for the inner cities. Reagan briefly explained his support for an innovative proposal to establish free enterprise zones that would provide tax incentives for industry to move into impoverished areas. Chisholm did not press the matter, even though she is skeptical about Reagan's approach. If it works, she cracked, she would consider becoming a Republican.

And so it went most of the week, as Reagan slowly and tentatively began to immerse himself in the realities of the job he had so spectacularly won. Aides claimed, with considerable justification, that he spent more time working on substantive business last week than at any other point since his election.

On his way east he deftly handled a courtesy call on Mexico's President Jose Lopez Portillo. Reagan's graceful approach was warmly applauded by the Mexicans, who felt that it laid a solid groundwork for a new level of friendship and cooperation between the countries when Reagan and Lopez Portillo meet again, probably within the next six months.

Later than most modern Presidents, Reagan completed his Cabinet and top staff, naming Terrel Bell, Utah's commissioner of higher education, as Education Secretary and Transition Spokesman James Brady as press secretary. Reagan also settled on G.O.P. Chairman William Brock as Special Trade Representative.

Finally, Reagan tackled what may be the toughest of his problems as President: the economy (see ECONOMY & BUSINESS). Armed with black loose-leaf briefing books neatly tabbed by subject, his economic advisers assembled at Blair House to give him the news of the worsening 1981 deficit and the increasing difficulty of balancing the budget even by fiscal 1984. Reagan was shocked by that prognosis, his aides said, but when presented with the long list of possible cuts he would have to consider making to trim the deficit, he slapped the table and declared: "By God, if that's what it takes, we'll do it." These budget slashes will be politically painful and controversial, but Reagan seemed unwavering in his determination to push through the tax cuts he had promised during the campaign, though he did tentatively decide not to make them retroactive, as originally planned, to the beginning of this year.

At the end of his visit to Washington, Reagan claimed that "we've had the greatest and most thorough transition process that anyone has ever had." Well, not exactly; after all, not everything went as smoothly as he had hoped. It would have been strong psychological medicine to have an economic program ready for Congress to act on right after the Inaugural balls. That, however, will have to wait another month or so. Reopening the Strategic Arms Limitations Talks will take even longer. Defense Secretary-designate Caspar Weinberger told the Senate Armed Services Committee that even though transition teams have worked on the problems since November, it will be "a good six months" before the new Administration will be ready to discuss new agreements with the Soviets. Indeed, selecting staffers for the key jobs at the sub-Cabinet level at the Defense and State departments is just beginning and promises to be a process as complex and intense as the struggle for some of the Cabinet slots.

Carter Administration officials, while pleased by Reagan's refusal to interfere in their handling of the hostage crisis beyond public statements that the Iranians will not get a better deal from him, are puzzled that his advisers have not kept closer watch on the negotiations.

Nevertheless, Reagan's honeymoon promises to run for quite a while, certainly far longer than the few weeks afforded Carter, who arrived in Washington with nothing but disdain for its political establishment. As Reagan moved east, he wore his usual gee-isn't-everything-wonderful smile wherever he went. His first stop after leaving Los Angeles was the eight-lane highway bridge over the Rio Grande, which is known in Mexico as Rio Bravo del Norte. There he was supposed to meet Lopez Portillo midway, on the border, in keeping with Mexican law, which forbids the country's President to go abroad without his legislature's permission. But when Reagan and his aides were slowly walking from their motorcade on the American side, the Mexican President bounded 20 yards across the border to greet him. Both men's aides insisted that it was a grand symbolic gesture. In addition, Lopez Portillo took Reagan by both arms and gave him a half abrazo, the bear-hug embrace that is a traditional Latin American sign of affection. Jimmy Carter, whom Lopez Portillo personally disliked and who quarreled with Mexico on everything from natural-gas prices to oil spills, got a tepid handshake when he visited Mexico in 1979.

The Mexicans went to considerable lengths to see that Reagan was comfortable. The banquet in the sombrero-shaped, wood-paneled Museum of Art and History in Ciudad Juarez was catered by a restaurant across the street. But lest his corn soup and steak get cold before it could be brought over, a full kitchen was hastily installed in the museum director's office. Reagan presented a Remington .30-06 hunting rifle from his personal collection to his fellow gun fancier and a case of California white wine made from grapevines that had originated in Mexico. In return, he received a three-volume set of books on Mexican art, a copy of Lopez Portillo's own novelette Quetzalcoatl, and a glass etching of a horse made from one of the President's own drawings. "Real art," said Reagan as Lopez Portillo beamed and clapped. "As you know, I'm moving into public housing. I assure you that these gifts will be very much in evidence in the White House."

Their discussions were symbolic rather than substantive. Said Reagan at one point: "Our leaders have sometimes talked too much about each other and not enough to each other." Interjected Lopez Portillo: "Magnifico, Senor Presidente."

From Reagan's viewpoint the visit served to underscore his vague idea, stated at the beginning of his campaign, of a "North American Accord." Richard Allen, who will be Reagan's National Security Adviser, explained that the accord "does not have a specific content, but conveys, one might say, a state of mind"--that of more cooperation between the U.S. and its neighbors.

For Mexicans the symbolism of a new state of mind was more important than detailed discussions of each country's interests and disagreements. Said a high Mexican official in describing his government's impression of Reagan: "The perception was one of tact, delicacy and of an almost conscious effort at being understanding." Mexicans have long been rankled by the condescending attitude of U.S. leaders toward their country as a sleepy little brother or, more recently, a source of exploitable energy. Said a senior American diplomat: "The best way to get more [Mexican] oil is not to ask for it." Said another American official:

"People have got to stop saying that this is a tremendous resource for the U.S. It drives the Mexicans up the wall." Heeding such advice, Reagan gracefully spoke to Lopez Portillo of friendship, not natural gas or oil or even of illegal Mexican aliens in the U.S.

With this new base of top-level cordiality, the sticky problems of fishing rights, immigration, energy prices, troubles in El Salvador and Nicaragua, and Lopez Portillo's planned summit in June of the world's less developed countries and industrial nations, can all be discussed later. Lopez Portillo particularly wants the U.S. President to attend the summit. But Reagan may decline the invitation for fear that he would end up being a target at the session for leftists who too often blame the U.S. for their countries' problems.

When Reagan arrived in snowy Washington that evening, he immediately went to the Corcoran Gallery of Art for a reception in honor of the new Senate majority leader, Howard Baker. Said Reagan: "In the campaign he did as much as anybody could, a large part of the reason why he is now majority leader."

On Reagan's first morning in Washington he met for more than an hour with Alexander M. Haig Jr., his choice for Secretary of State, whom he had not seen privately since the Republican Convention.

They discussed the major foreign problems the new Administration must face immediately on taking office, and Haig's confirmation hearing. Haig secured a personal pledge on two things Reagan has publicly promised: that the State Department would have primacy in formulating policy, and the Secretary of State would be the chief spokesman for it. Said Haig:

"We discussed a number of current foreign policy issues that are very urgent and very important." Among them was the list of options, tentatively drawn up by the foreign affairs advisers on the transition team, for dealing with the Iranian hostage crisis.

Reagan showed anew his deft hand in stroking Senate Democrats. The occasion was a steak-and-salad luncheon in the Senate's gilded Mike Mansfield Room with Democratic Senate Leader Robert Byrd of West Virginia as host. The House and Senate had the day before completed their own ritual of instal lation, for the 97th time in his tory. The newly elected Senators were escorted to the podium, usu ally by the senior Senators from their states, and sworn in by Mondale. South Carolina's Strom Thur mond, the Senate's senior Republican, was elected president pro tempore, and Baker took over from Byrd as majority leader. On the House side, where Democrats retain control, Tip O'Neill was re-elected Speaker. The two Houses then formally notified the President that they were organized and ready to consider any message that he might wish to send them.

Byrd, in his new and unaccustomed role as minority leader, urged Reagan at the luncheon not to hesitate to call on the Democratic talent in Congress if he had a problem that needed solving. Byrd quipped that, despite Reagan's request that Congressmen and Senators wear formal attire at the Inauguration, he might show up in his favorite red vest, which he was proudly wearing. But Reagan upstaged him with what he called, using an old vaudeville term, his get-offline: standing near a portrait of Mansfield, who was a popular Democratic Senate leader for 16 years, Reagan announced that he had phoned Mansfield in Tokyo and asked him to stay on as U.S. Ambassador to Japan, making him the first high-level Democrat retained by the incoming Administration. Reagan was impressed with Mansfield when he visited Japan two years ago, and the craggy Democrat had also been gracious to George Bush and Richard Allen when they stopped over on their trip to China early in the election campaign. It was a well-nigh universally popular decision: Mansfield, an authority on Asian culture, is liked enormously in Japan.

The President-elect met twice with his Cabinet choices during his visit. There was a purely social dinner at Blair House for the nominees and their wives and an "executive seminar" in a conference room at the State Department the following morning. At the working session, Reagan spoke of his determination not only to provide better management, but also to change the direction of Government. "I want free, open discussions," he said of his Cabinet meetings. "Only that way will I find out what I need to know to make a decision." He added only one prohibition:

no one should mention political implications when assessing options. "We want to operate as if there is no next election," he said, a theme he sounded in his campaign and claims was his stance as Governor of California. Senior Staffers Edwin Meese, James Baker and others also made short presentations.

Having balanced his Cabinet with mostly traditional Republican pragmatists and more ideological Reagan loyalists, Reagan is now faced with doing the same in key sub-Cabinet posts. His choice for Deputy Defense Secretary, Frank Carlucci, is a classic example of the former group, a versatile administrator of moderate Republican leanings. Currently deputy CIA director, Carlucci is a former deputy to Weinberger at OMB and HEW, and the Defense Secretary-designate has insisted to Reagan that Carlucci be made his deputy despite furious opposition from right-wingers who consider Carlucci too liberal in his political sympathies.

Reagan's choice for No. 2 at the State Department, William Clark, is a Republican loyalist from California who worked for Reagan when he was Governor and was eventually elevated by Reagan to the state supreme court. Clark is worried lest his departure from the California court leave a vacancy that Governor Jerry Brown might fill with a liberal jurist, further tipping the court's balance toward the left. For Deputy Treasury Secretary, Reagan's more conservative supporters are urging the appointment of New York Drug Store Magnate Lewis Lehrman, an outspoken proponent of a return to the gold standard. But Donald Regan, the designated Treasury Secretary, reportedly feels uncomfortable with Lehrman's strong views.

Thus Reagan might turn instead to Beryl Sprinkel, chief economist of Chicago's Harris Bank and a member of the TIME Board of Economists.

Reagan again left behind a warm feeling among the people of the town that he had run against as a campaign issue. On the plane flight to California, he prepared for his next big event in the city, his Inaugural Address. Said he after the flight: "I'm several yellow pages into a tablet that I was working on all the way on the plane, but I haven't come to that magic page--the last one." Once home, he watched the Senate confirmation hearings of his Cabinet nominees on television. Leaving his barbershop on Friday, Reagan commented on Haig's performance: "I think he's taking care of himself pretty well." He will spend a long weekend with his wife at their Pacific Palisades home, packing for their move to Washington this week.

Jimmy Carter also flew home last week, to make plans for his own transition. In Plains he visited his mother, who is recuperating from a hip injury, and cleared out her house in town, which he will rent for less than $250 a month, to use as his office. Unlike Reagan. Carter departed with no get-off quip, but Mondale, who plans to join a Washington law firm, had an exit line that elicited a response any vaudevillian would envy.

Standing on the rostrum of the House chamber, after certifying Reagan as the electoral-vote winner, Mondale announced the tally in the electoral balloting for Vice President. After Mondale proclaimed George Bush's tally, legislators on both sides of the aisle, as well as the spectators in the gallery, rose to give Mondale a standing ovation for his finale: "Walter F. Mondale, of the State of Minnesota, has received 49 votes.'' --By Walter Isaacson. Reported by Laurence I. Barrett with Reagan and James Willwerth/Juarez

With reporting by Laurence I. Barrett, James Willwerth

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