Reagan's Cabinet: Mixed Grades

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What disappoints the critics is that Weinberger has become merely a money shoveler, doing little to reformulate national strategy or work for greater military efficiencies. His initial 1982 request for $222 billion was 11% higher than the budget Jimmy Carter had projected for 1982, yet it charted no new directions; it merely boosted spending, item by item. If Weinberger looked like a prisoner of the generals on the budget, he appeared to be an amateur in rejecting the advice of his high command on the MX missile and vacillating on a new strategic bomber. After much public agonizing, he failed to come up with a mode for basing the MX and proposed that the U.S. develop both the B-l and Stealth bombers. In passing the Defense appropriation bill last week, the Senate accepted the B-l but rejected Weinberger's plan to harden existing silos for basing some of the new MX missiles.

Weinberger's hawkish statements on foreign policy issues have often been poorly planned and counterproductive. In Bonn last April, Weinberger denigrated the benefits of detente and called for a buildup of NATO's conventional and nuclear forces; Haig had to reassure allies that the U.S. was still committed to pursuing arms control negotiations with the Soviets as well as upgrading the Western deterrent. Haig also had to rein in Weinberger when he announced, without consulting NATO leaders, that the Administration was planning to produce neutron warheads for eventual deployment in Europe. Haig promised the allies there would be no deployment of the enhanced radiation bombs without full consultations.

Weinberger has one all-important fan: his longtime friend Reagan. The President supported him on the military budget and shares his hard-line anti-Soviet views. Except in the President's eyes, however, his performance has earned him no more than a disappointing B-minus.

Discreet Lawyer

Men who have served in recent years as Attorney General have brought different approaches to the job: flamboyant activist (Bobby Kennedy), judicial academic (Edward Levi, chosen by Ford), slick wheeler-dealer (Nixon's—and Watergate's—John Mitchell). William French Smith, 64, is, above all, a discreet and reticent corporate lawyer, dedicated to serving his once and present client, Ronald Reagan. This conservatism, in both philosophy and style, has been the hallmark of Smith's tenure at the Justice Department.

In a low-key, undramatic way, he has presided over some major changes in policy. While insisting that he will vigorously enforce antidiscrimination laws. Smith announced that the Justice Department will not advocate court-enforced busing as a means of desegregating schools. Smith has also sent a clear signal that big is not necessarily bad, thereby dampening the department's antitrust fervor and creating a favorable climate for corporate mergers and takeover attempts.

A longtime intimate of Reagan, Smith has excellent access to the Oval Office. But some White House officials claim that he is plodding, lacking spark and less than innovative in law enforcement. Yet his frequent get-tough-on-crime speeches have been hampered by the Administration's unwillingness to back his proposals with funds. In the view of White House watchers, he rates a solid but lackluster B-minus for what has been a solid but lackluster performance.