"Remind me," Dwight Eisenhower once ordered an aide, "never to invite that fellow down here again!"
"What," groaned John F. Kennedy, "am I going to do about him?"
The target of both Presidents' outbursts was Otto Passman, the Tabasco-tempered Democrat from Monroe, La., who for the past ten years has devoted most of his abrasive energies to the task of slashing foreign aid bills. As chairman of House Appropriations' foreign operations subcommittee, Passman, a graduate of Bogalusa Commercial Business College, has long been convinced that the best way to lose foreign friends is to "start supporting them with gifts and favors." Wielding what he calls "a countryman's ax" on global giveaways, Passman since 1955 has been principally responsible for trimming presidential aid requests by an average of 20% a year, for a total of nearly $20 billion.
Cajun Cassius. Yet for nearly an hour last week as he roared and wriggled his scorn for the Administration's 1966-67 foreign aid bill in the House, Passman, 65, seemed only a shadow of the man whom his foes have feared and derided as a Cajun Cassius. As he said himself: "I have had my wings cropped."
That was putting it mildly. In autocratic Otto's years as lord high executioner of foreign aid bills, the chairman of his parent committee had been Missouri's curmudgeonly Clarence Cannon, another handout hater, who gave Passman a free hand to slash as he saw fit. But when Cannon died last year, the House Appropriations chairmanship went to Texas' George Mahon, a middle-of-the-road Democrat, who set about taming the Tartar. Though he let Passman stay on as chairman of the subcommittee, he pared it from eleven to nine members, most of whom favor foreign aid. Passman found himself powerless. Where, in his heyday, subcommittee hearings had dragged on for months, this year's sessions were rushed through in eleven weeks by the new membership. Under Mahon's orders, Chairman Passman was not even allowed to issue a report. Objected Otto: "You can't take the right of writing the report away from me." Mahon bluntly replied that he could and had, since most of the subcommittee did not agree with Passman.
Fulsome Apology. Instead of resigning the chairmanship, Passman last week chose the chastening task of managing a $3.3 billion foreign aid bill that he abominated—and had been able to trim by only $75 million, a mere nick by former standards. It was one of the strangest performances in the memory of the House.
For 52 minutes, while he presented his own bill to the House, Passman savagely attacked it and all "the imaginary accomplishments of the foreign aid program." And then, after fulsome apologies, Passman turned around and started fighting for the bill. "I represent the majority of the committee and not necessarily my personal views," he said. "It will be my responsibility to defend it to the fullest extent of my ability." When Republicans moved to cut $285 million out of it, Passman declared: "I hope the motion will be voted down."