(10 of 11)
Though he cultivates an outsider's air and stands apart from the Clinton establishment--making the weekly commute from his rural Connecticut home, conducting business out of a suite at the elegant Jefferson Hotel--Morris has an insider's ability to push his agenda. His allies are the First Lady, Vice President Al Gore, press secretary Mike McCurry, communications director Don Baer, policy adviser Bruce Reed and presidential counselor Bill Curry. But his closest confidant is the President himself, for whom he prepares exclusive briefing books that sometimes critique Clinton's other advisers. Some aides say Morris sees the Executive Branch as his playground, and anyone who disagrees with him as an obstructionist, a fool or both. In a late May meeting to discuss the President's tax credit for college tuition, Morris berated National Economic Council chief Laura Tyson for insisting that Clinton's economic team make sure the proposal was revenue neutral. "The President's giving a speech at Princeton," Morris told Tyson. "The tax credit will be part of that speech. So if you have any little concerns, take care of them." Tyson's chief of staff, Tom O'Donnell, stalked out of the room. Morris called after him. "Message to the front: I'm trying to elect the President!" But for all Morris' histrionics, Tyson prevailed in the end, fine-tuning the proposal and protecting the NEC's turf.
Most seasoned operatives know not to take Morris personally. He has helped Clinton focus, and if they want Clinton to win again, that should be all that matters. Stephanopoulos, for example, has good reason to resent Morris, who replaced his war-room comrade Carville as chief strategist. But Stephanopoulos found common ground with Morris, slipping into the same role he played for Carville as an antidote to the resident genius' screwier ideas. He saves Morris--and Clinton by extension--from crashing and burning. On the night of the Israeli election, when the race was too close to call but exit polls had Prime Minister Shimon Peres in front of challenger Benjamin Netanyahu, Morris wanted Clinton to go in front of the TV cameras to congratulate Peres on his victory, which would have been a blunder of Dewey-beats-Truman proportions. Stephanopoulos quietly killed the idea.
THE LAST CLIENT
For months Morris has been telling other political players that Clinton "has the race put away." In truth, Morris frets at night, imagining that he's running Dole's campaign and plotting against his own best moves. His basic strategy over the next two months is simple and familiar. Just as Clinton's 1996 State of the Union speech was a blueprint for six months' worth of Executive actions--each one ensuring press attention--so Clinton's acceptance speech this week will lay out some 30 policies (like taking handguns away from men convicted of spousal abuse) to be rolled out between now and November. Morris believes Clinton will win, but he also thinks a backlash will follow again and that 1998 will be another disastrous year for Democrats.