A Student of Leadership

By Hugh Sidey

The Presidency

As a freshman Congressman in 1965, Republican Barber Conable of upstate New York sat in the East Room of the White House, fascinated by the scene playing out before him. Lyndon Johnson had summoned House members for a briefing on Viet Nam. L.B.J. could not contain himself. As Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara described the war, Johnson would leap up, take the pointer from McNamara and jab it at the map. "Tell 'em what's happening here, Bob," Johnson would command. "Tell 'em what's going on down there."

At the reception after the briefing, Johnson scooped up hors d'oeuvres (oar doves, he called them) in both hands and crammed his mouth full. Then he dispatched two drinks with resounding gurgles.

Conable, who had studied medieval history at Cornell and American history throughout his adult life, suddenly had live figures to fit into an intellectual framework. He recalls thinking on that day in 1965 that Johnson was "a kinetic personality" who believed he could find an answer to every problem. In Viet Nam it was "victory." Johnson would simply order a Government agency into action, get money appropriated and then wait for the war to be won. Conable's knowledge of history made him wonder. Some problems, like wars, simply had no solutions, and successful leaders understood that. Johnson did not possess such sagacity.

For two decades Conable played a role in the political drama, and always the events of history whispered to him "to avoid the pressures of the moment" and consider the broader perspectives. In the capital, he became a ray of wry wisdom amid the constant drizzle of somber buncombe. He toughed his way into power like the Marine he was in World War II and Korea. He became the ranking member on the Ways and Means Committee. More important, he gathered a grateful flock of admirers, among them scholars, journalists and politicians.

They were not surprised when Conable, 62, decided last February to get out of Congress. Conable, who considers himself a conservative in the tradition of Edmund Burke, had once again leaned back and looked far. "It was the right time politically, personally and philosophically," he says. "The vitality of the system depends on new people and new ideas." He will dispense his thoughts as writer, scholar, member of several corporate boards and squire of 150 acres in Alexander, N.Y. (pop. 400). His 150-year-old house there is a replica of the Semple house in Colonial Williamsburg.

Last week, as movers packed his collection of Indian tomahawks and his 1874 Wooton desk, Conable was challenging the Republican Party to be the party of Government: "The party that gets things done. Not the party of ideology, or the party of opposition, or the party of special interests or some other lighthearted role."

Richard Nixon was such a leader, says Conable. Nixon sought real change in Government institutions, diplomacy and fiscal affairs. Conable became one of Nixon's most loyal House supporters, only to be profoundly disappointed when Nixon's personal flaws overwhelmed his Administration. He keeps his distance from Nixon to this day.

Conable listened to Jimmy Carter's entreaties. But it did not take long for the Congressman to detect the flaw in that presidency. "Carter conferred with God, Rosalynn and Amy and then made judgments about what was right and wrong, but he did not lead," says Conable. He was distressed when Jerry Ford did not get a second term because he felt Ford put results above personal glory. Nixon had to be moved off the national stage. Ford did it by pardoning him. Ford was then defeated.

From his bucolic precinct, Conable will cheer Reagan on, though he has some deep differences with the President. He believes that Reagan has the will to put ideas into action. "No longer do people say the presidency does not work," he declares. "One man can make a difference." Ditto Barber Conable for 20 years in the U.S. House of Representatives.