Potomac Fever: the Latest Epidemic

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a presidential candidate with a good chance of winning must be in want of a Treasury Secretary. And an Assistant Secretary of State. And a special assistant in charge of federal procurement policy. Jane Austen would keenly appreciate the spirited comedy of manners that is being played out inside the Democratic Party: like spinsters preening before the village bachelor, Democrats are jockeying for position in a future Dukakis Administration. Some call this genteel process Potomac Fever. Others view it as the Waltz of the Wise Men Wanna-Bes.

Pamela Harriman, grand dame widow of Averell and a valued Democratic fund raiser, backed Senator Albert Gore in the primaries. Yet she managed to be on the dais with Dukakis, smiling silkily, as he delivered his first major foreign policy speech this month at the Atlantic Council. Georgetown denizens began whispering that she hopes to become the next Ambassador to the United Nations. At the same conference, Andrew Pierre, a Paris-based defense expert, was the first to ask Dukakis a question. "Andrew shot up out of his seat like a Pershing II missile," a colleague knowingly observed. In social Washington, Hostess Jayne Ikard, who has partied with Reaganauts for the past eight years, has been overheard authoritatively telling friends, "I was born in Brookline."

Republicans are hardly immune from Potomac Fever, but after eight years in power and multiple turnovers in the top jobs, most have already had a chance to serve. For Democrats, who have held the White House only four of the past 20 years, the yearning is unmistakable. "Like others, I am getting a continuous supply of letters, telegrams, calls, reports and recommendations," says Harvard Professor Robert Reich, who is often cited as a key economic adviser to Dukakis. He adds with a roguish twinkle, "I hear from a remarkably large and varied number of people."

In the hothouse atmosphere of Washington, not even the slightest flicker of self-promotion goes undetected. Richard Holbrooke, a well-regarded former Assistant Secretary of State under Carter, advised Gary Hart, then Gore, before making his expertise available to Dukakis. While Holbrooke denies any desire to leave Shearson Lehman Hutton, campaign aides found his friendliness after the New York primary unnerving. "Suddenly, every time you turned around, there was Holbrooke -- it was like a Peter Sellers movie," jokes one Dukakis supporter. Giddily he pursued his comic notion. "He'd be looking in from the door. Look again, and his head is poking through the window. The staff would order drinks, and he'd be the waiter bringing in the tray of martinis." Roger Altman, investment banker and Dukakis fund raiser, who understands the etiquette of job placement, warns, "Those who are qualified for the senior positions don't have to ask for them."

There are a few other helpful hints for Democrats this time around:

1) Get a temporary post at Harvard's Kennedy School of Government. Not as hard as it sounds, since the school offers a wide array of fellowships for mid-career bureaucrats and displaced politicians. The nameplates along the corridors (Joseph Nye, Al Carnesale, Robert Murray, Robert Reich, Graham Allison) read like a government-in-exile, and old articles are being recycled daily into speech drafts.