The winds lay calm on the Caribbean that evening, but 30,000 feet up in a White House jet the President's chief of staff was stirring a political storm. Returning to Washington from the inauguration of Costa Rica's new leader, John Sununu wandered to the rear of the Boeing 707 to schmooze with the traveling press. But first he shed his suit jacket, his title and his name. At his insistence, Sununu was now a "senior White House official."
The conversation quickly turned to the hottest topic of the week: Could Sununu reconcile President Bush's campaign pledge of "no new taxes" with his invitation for congressional leaders to join him in budget talks with "no preconditions"? Sununu shook his head impatiently. "We're allowing the Democrats to bring their good arguments for taxes to the table," he said. "And it is our prerogative to say no. And I emphasize the no."
How, then, asked a reporter, could Bush be sincere about no preconditions? Were there any circumstances, another inquired, under which he would trade new taxes for cuts in federal spending? "You've got a one-track mind on a trivial question," Sununu snapped, his voice rising. "Small minds ask small questions."
It says a great deal about John Sununu's reputation for rudeness that, when the "small minds" quote appeared on the front page of the Washington Post the next morning, half the town knew immediately which "senior official" was talking. The Democrats whom Bush was trying to lure into budget talks accused the Administration of negotiating in bad faith. But Sununu had accomplished his goal: reassuring the Republican faithful and the voters that Bush remains staunchly opposed to any broad new taxes. When the President subsequently dissociated himself from Sununu's remarks in a chat with House Speaker Tom Foley, the strategy was complete. Bush was able to posture as Mr. Fiscal Responsibility, willing to entertain any proposal, including higher taxes, to help balance the budget.
This good-cop, bad-cop routine has become a staple of the Bush White House. No one plays the heavy better than Sununu, and no one takes more heat on Bush's behalf. That is why Bush picked Sununu as his right-hand man, and why he prizes him.
When he named Sununu his chief of staff shortly after the 1988 election, Bush handed the ultimate insider's job to a bumptious outsider with a chip on , his shoulder: a double-hyphenated Lebanese- and Greek-American, born in Havana with a funny name. Bush pointedly ignored the protests of such close advisers as Secretary of State James Baker, leading the Washington establishment to conclude that he had "done another Quayle." Sununu was obviously brilliant: a three-term Governor of New Hampshire and former engineering professor with an IQ estimated at 180. He had been an invaluable political asset, rescuing Bush's faltering campaign by masterminding a victory in the New Hampshire primary. But he lacked any experience in the clannish world of Washington and was so relentlessly abrasive that one wag dubbed him "Morton Downey Jr. with a Ph.D." The smart money gave him at most a year in the job.