Who's In Charge Here?

By Alain L. Sanders

Lamar Alexander is used to cleaning up big messes. When he walked into the Tennessee statehouse in 1979, his first chore was to sweep up after the scandal-tainted administration of his predecessor, Ray Blanton. Last week the two-term former Governor and current president of the University of Tennessee took on another big political cleanup job. President Bush asked him to become Secretary of Education and revitalize that Cabinet post after the forced resignation earlier this month of the lackluster Lauro Cavazos. One of Alexander's first priorities, however, will be to help extricate his new boss from the political morass resulting from a highly controversial Education Department ruling restricting college scholarships for minority students.

The scholarship imbroglio so visibly unbalanced Bush -- and so glaringly spotlighted the Administration's inept handling of civil rights -- that it all but eclipsed Alexander's generally well-received nomination. The drama hurtled Administration officials into a rushed series of consultations. Result: a policy flip that flopped spectacularly. Civil rights leaders blasted the White House for threatening to slam expensive college doors in the faces of under- represented minority students. Conservative critics lambasted the decision for its failure to reject unambiguously racial preferences of any kind.

The crisis was touched off two weeks ago when Michael Williams, a mid-level Education official in charge of civil rights, announced a startling reinterpretation of existing federal anti-discrimination laws. College scholarships exclusively earmarked for minority students are illegal, he declared, and institutions that offer them may face a cutoff of federal funds. Colleges and universities around the country immediately set off alarm bells and sent the Administration scrambling to clarify a policy that Williams had apparently enunciated without consulting the White House.

Last week, after a high-level tussle in which staunch anti-quota advocates beat back more pragmatic advisers, the Administration trotted Williams in front of reporters to announce a tangled compromise: pending a four-year review, federally aided colleges may set aside some scholarships for minority students only if the awards come from specially designated private donations or federal programs -- but not if the money comes from the institutions' general operating funds.

At a news conference, the President explained lamely that the new policy would "continue these minority scholarships as best we can." But civil rights advocates and educational professionals immediately cried foul. The latest policy twist, they charged, was administratively unworkable, legally shaky and likely to invite endless litigation. Moreover, by outlawing the use of general funds, the ruling placed the largest source of money for minority scholarships off limits. "On issues of race and sex discrimination, Bush is merely Ronald Reagan in sheep's clothing," fumed Ralph Neas, head of the Washington-based Leadership Conference on Civil Rights.

The scholarship ruling also embarrassed and enraged some Republican operatives. "The political people here are tearing their hair out," said an Administration official. Coming on the heels of Bush's October veto of the Civil Rights Act of 1990 on the ground that it encouraged employment quotas, the scholarship compromise threatened to alienate further the black constituency that some Republican strategists have been urging the President to cultivate. It also emboldened congressional Democrats to redouble their efforts to pass a new civil rights bill next year.

At the same time, the decision ruffled right-wingers who steadfastly oppose even the mildest forms of minority-preference programs and who are already unhappy with Bush for his retreat on taxes, among other things. Jeered John Scully of the conservative Washington Legal Foundation: "We've had everything on this except another 'Read my hips' statement."

The new scholarship policy is especially awkward for Bush. It leaves the impression that he has been blindsided by a lower-echelon Education official -- ironically, a neo-conservative who happens to be black -- on an issue on which he has taken a firm and progressive personal stand. Since his college days, Bush has unstintingly contributed to the United Negro College Fund.

The new Education nominee faces the unenviable task of explaining the minority-scholarship policy at his confirmation hearings next month. But if anyone can bring some sense of political harmony to the issue, it may well be the pragmatic Alexander, a musically versatile classical pianist who also likes to sit in with Tennessee washboard bands. Commenting last week on the financial-aid flap, he deftly declared, "I find it's often best to approach questions of this kind with a warm heart and common sense."

Respected for his moderate, practical approach, Alexander will come to Washington with an impressive record of educational reforms. His Better Schools Program in Tennessee -- which features a merit-pay system for teachers, tougher standards for students and more computer, science and math instruction -- has become a national model. The ex-Governor favors deregulation of school bureaucracies to encourage innovation and strongly backs adult education to make U.S. workers competitive again.

Around the Cabinet table, the new Secretary can be expected to provide calm, deliberate counsel. "He is totally at ease with power," says Marty Connors, executive director of the Southern Republican Exchange, a Birmingham think tank founded by Alexander. Equally important, Alexander and his wife are longtime social intimates of the Bushes who get along with the First Family on a first-name basis. Good choice, George.

With reporting by Michael Duffy and Nancy Traver/Washington