The Administration: Mood Indigo

In the waning days of 1967, a noxious atmosphere pervades the nation's capital. "We are in danger of losing our sense of confidence in each other," warned Massachusetts' Democratic Senator Ted Kennedy. Said another Democratic Senator of the mood on Capitol Hill: "It's a tiredness, a frustration, an uneasiness. It's a war with no end AP in sight. It's a racial and urban problem with no end in sight. It's a fiscal problem with no end in sight. Maybe if we all get out of here, go home and listen to the people for a while, we'll come back with new hope and new ideas and new enthusiasm. But maybe we'll come back more discouraged than ever."

It was difficult to imagine how the discouragement could go any deeper than it already has. Congress and the President are not yet as badly stalemated as they were during John F. Kennedy's last days, but they are rapidly approaching that point. The Great Society is sputtering along in low gear because, as one Administration official put it, "the governmental structure has outrun the funds." Rumors of wholesale resignations are making the rounds in Washington in the wake of Robert Mc-Namara's decision to quit the Defense Department. United Nations Ambassador Arthur Goldberg is expected to depart within a few months; Labor Secretary Willard

Wirtz, Treasury Secretary Henry Fowler, Agriculture Secretary Orville Freeman and Poverty Boss Sargent Shriver are said to be anxious to leave the Government or to change jobs—though all may temporarily stay put now that Mc-Namara is leaving, simply to prevent the kind of revolving-door exodus that could hurt Lyndon Johnson in an election year.

Signal Failures. The lightning rod for most criticism is, of course, the President. Johnson, complains one sub-cabinet member, has a singular ability to "catalyze disenchantment"—not to mention disbelief. Few Congressmen—and fewer newsmen—take the President of the U.S. completely at his word. When he forecast a deficit of only $8 billion for the current fiscal year, few believed that it would be so small. Now that he is predicting a deficit of up to $35 billion, hoping thereby to prod Congress into enacting his 10% tax surcharge, few believe that it will be so large.

The President has undeniably failed in some signal tests of executive performance. He has not built a genuine "Johnson team." Curiously, more first-rank Kennedy men have stuck it out with him than have the men whom he himself brought into the Government, notably Bill Moyers, Jack Valenti, George Reedy. Johnson, moreover, has failed to perform the crucial executive function of charting a clear course for the future. One top economist complains that Johnson's close-to-the-vest method of operation, perfected during 24 years in Congress, has left major institutions stumbling around in the dark on vital policy decisions until the last possible moment.

Overburdened Aides. Nor has Johnson succeeded in stimulating much new thought or inspiring men to outdo themselves—a fact underscored by the impending departure of such talented second-echelon officials as Assistant Attorney General John Doar or State Department Policy Planner Zbigniew