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A month ago, when it seemed things couldn't get any worse, Rumsfeld floated a plan to close dozens of military bases over the next eight years. That proved, if nothing else, that he was serious about cuts, but it was tantamount to declaring war on Capitol Hill. And with that announcement, Rumsfeld reactivated a reserve unit that had outlived its enemy--the secret anti-Clinton operation formed inside the Pentagon in 1993. When Clinton arrived that year and announced his plan to loosen rules on gays in the military, a network sprang up overnight between uniformed officials in the Pentagon and their allies on Capitol Hill. The phones began to hum; e-mail chains were forged. Before long, the Pentagon had the Hill pledging to stop just about any Clinton proposal the military didn't like. When rumors of Rumsfeld's cuts began to circulate, the wires began to clatter anew. "What the uniformed guys put in place to undermine the last President," said a top Pentagon official under Clinton, "was now being used to undermine Rummy."
Officers saluting the Secretary in the corridors of the Pentagon but working behind the scenes to thwart him--this was something that didn't often happen 25 years ago. The CLASSIFIED stamp on Rumsfeld's plan was hardly dry before copies found their way to Capitol Hill. By Aug. 3, it was apparent that lawmakers from both parties would bury any cuts he proposed. Republicans were locked and loaded; Democrats pretended to be sympathetic, just for fun. Says Senator Jack Reed of Rhode Island, a former Army officer: "He was sailing into the teeth of a storm everywhere he looked."
"I'll give you a rule," Rumsfeld said last Friday, an hour or so after he announced that he would let the services reform themselves. He put pen to yellow foolscap and spoke as he wrote. "It goes something like this: 'If you deal with a senior officer, you can be almost absolutely certain that he is capable of doing a number of things very, very well--even though the thing you are dealing with him on may not be one of those things.'"
That sounded as if Rumsfeld was a little resentful of the way the brass had undercut his reforms. Sure enough, an aide later translated: Don't expect generals and admirals to spend a lifetime in the bureaucracy and then be able to tear it up and start over. "I thought about this the other day," Rumsfeld continued. "That's always been true, and I should have known it, but I never formulated it in my head." It is possible, of course, that by making the military responsible for cutting itself Rumsfeld is retreating to fight another day and with a bigger weapon. As he told Time, "There are certain decisions that President Bush is going to make."
Rumsfeld had changed from his suit jacket to an old gray cardigan, and took a seat in his large, spare Pentagon office. His huge desk was behind him, but it lacked a chair because he prefers to work standing up; he thinks better that way. What else has changed since 1976? he was asked. He looked as though he wasn't sure where to begin. The Congress, he said, the power of congressional staff, the number of restrictions lawmakers place on the military. And the defense contractors. "They have gone from a lot to a few, and they have activities in a very large number of congressional districts." And the press: "It's arranged for promoting conflict, difficulty and problems. I guess that was always the case, but not like now."