Reagan Makes His Moves

The decision was so startling that aides warned it could not be kept secret for even a few more hours. If Ronald Reagan did not want the capital to be awash in puzzling leaks and wild rumors, he would have to break the news openly at his very next public appearance. That happened to be a totally incongruous event, a welcoming address to 200 women leaders of Christian evangelical groups visiting Washington. After the usual innocuous pleasantries, the President told the churchwomen that he had reviewed the qualifications of "more than two dozen fine potential nominees" to succeed James G. Watt as Secretary of the Interior and settled on a man whose name was not on that list: National Security Adviser William Clark.

It was such an unusual switch, from a primary role in foreign affairs to a secondary one in domestic policy, that Washington buzzed for days with speculation about Reagan's and Clark's motives, slighting the more consequential question: Who would replace Clark as the chief White House adviser on foreign and military policy? From the beginning, the obvious candidate was Clark's top deputy, Robert McFarlane, a seasoned and pragmatic professional in national security affairs. But as always when a powerful post is up for grabs, there were other contenders. Officials who feared that "Bud" McFarlane would not be a forceful advocate for hard-line views vigorously promoted Jeane Kirkpatrick, Reagan's intellectual, ideological and sometimes abrasive Ambassador to the United Nations.

Pondering the matter over the weekend at Camp David, Reagan reached his decision. He told aides that he planned to appoint McFarlane. But he intended to delay the formal announcement until early this week, giving him time to confer with Kirkpatrick, who is known to be weary with her U.N. job. The President was set to offer her a post in Washington, possibly a newly created one, in which she would have ready access to the Oval Office and the opportunity to advise on a wide range of foreign policy questions.

Such an arrangement would be novel, but nowhere near as intriguing as the transfer of Clark that prompted it. In the first few hours after that move, even the most savvy officials could not believe their ears. A senior White House staff member who informed colleagues about the change just before Reagan publicly announced it encountered such incredulity that he had to insist, "I'm not joking, it's the truth." Legislative Aide Kenneth Duberstein, phoning Senate Majority Leader Howard Baker with the news, argued for three minutes before he could convince Baker that it was not an elaborate put-on.

The reason for the shock: the National Security Adviser's job is potentially one of the most powerful in the nation and indeed the world. The Interior Secretary's task of managing the Federal Government's vast landholdings, for all the explosive controversy that Watt brought to it, has considerably less than globe-girdling impact; it is of interest primarily to the Western states.