THE PRESIDENCY
Last winter, when Gerald Ford was putting together his energy and economic programs, he briefly pondered the proposal for a gasoline tax. Then he told his aides, "Let's forget it. A gas tax will never get through Congress."
Last week that prophecy proved to be right, by a 5-to-l margin in the House, when the Democrats brought up their own gas-tax idea. Such accurate judgments about the mood of Congress and the country are part of the President's growing stature, a phenomenon that is the subject of increasing analysis.
Ford has climbed out of the cellar in the national polls, and both Gallup and Harris record 50% or more approval. His effectiveness on the Hill has been demonstrated in his recent battles to sustain three vetoes. The results of the probing of the electorate by the Republican National Committee do not need obscuring. Even Ford's weekend afternoons of golf with celebrities yield a slightly positive response, as measured in the R.N.C. poll samples.
There is one White House aide who explains the current Ford surge by suggesting that the President is a bad politician in a moment in history when politics is detested, and thus Ford is viewed as good.
Not so, says shrewd Barber Conable, an upstate New York Congressman: "He is a good politician. The realities of power are still against him, but he has immense personal good will up here. He knows the House." When Ford was given a list of wavering members on the strip-mining-veto vote, he glanced over the dozen names. "That one, that one and that one are a waste of time," he said almost instinctively. The three were scratched, and Ford began phoning the others in his successful effort to avoid an override.
Nobody is discounting the ineptitude of the opposition in the Democratic Congress. It is staggering. In such an atmosphere, almost any reasonable overture by a President makes headway. Ford's spring high could fade with bad luck or a firm adversary. But political momentum, whether down or up, tends to reinforce itself, and Ford is climbing.
"Yes, he is gaining," admits Democratic National Chairman Robert Strauss, but he also believes that Ford's policy decisions are wrong. This view is enthusiastically shared by Presidential Candidate Henry Jackson, who is convinced that higher utility costs may soon wipe out the new veneer of good will for Ford. "You're not going to beat him with a more honest, more honorable man," says Strauss. "You're going to beat him on the issues."
In his more philosophical moments, Secretary of State Henry Kissinger has pondered his new boss in the international setting. He fits him into the company—if not yet, of course, the stature—of Harry Truman and Pope John, men elevated to power because they were perceived to be plain, calm and safe.
Ben Wallenberg, the Democralic analyst and author, says Ford is "an honest Richard Nixon." His point is that Nixon's policies were immensely popular, as judged by e 1972 election, and Ford has added to them a personal rectitude. After watching Ford, his wife, his daughter and his dog on television, Wallenberg sighed, "How do you fault a full-time honest President who is married to the First Lady, father of the First Daughter and master of the First Dog?"