The Presidency by Hugh Sidey: The Unwritten Code of Conduct

Richard Allen’s first mistake was not saying no to his friend with the $1,000. At the White House, you say no to a Japanese with an envelope of cash the same way you say no to an American with an envelope of cash—lips pursed, arms firmly folded across the chest. But that mistake was rather minor and excusable.

Allen’s second mistake, which was about 50% bigger than the first, was not reporting and logging the gift and dispatching it instantly to the Treasury Department, which is only 50 yards from the White House and will accept any kind of bills Still, two mistakes of this nature do not a tragedy make.

But the third mistake that Allen made changed the chemistry of the event. He decided that his survival in his job as National Security Adviser to Ronald Reagan was terribly important to the President and to the nation. He concluded that he had been wronged by events and therefore he must fight. He would not resign. That third mistake was immense.

The most difficult lesson that people around a President have to learn is that they are totally dispensable. The moment they begin to believe that they have a right and/or a duty to cling to their jobs is the moment they start downhill.

Confusing personal concerns with what is good for the nation has crippled many an Administration, as Jimmy Carter discovered when he refused to acknowledge the evil ways of his debt-laden Budget Director, Bert Lance.

Allen’s fourth mistake was casting the crusade for his honor as a media event. For nearly a week, he all but chased Reagan off the front pages. Allen’s convoluted explanations weighted the flow of news and information about the Government. These stories, hyped by their eager victim, intruded into the public’s business and obstructed the White House campaigns on the budget and arms reduction. Allen, in trying to save his own neck, raised himself above the President.

A presidency cannot work that way . Everybody and everything in and around the White House is for the protection and the support of the President. There has always been an unwritten code of conduct that any time someone troubles a President, he or she should submit a resignation quickly and quietly. The issue is not really whether the individual has been accused falsely or been treated fairly. Preventing damage to the President transcends all considerations. Bo Callaway,former Secretary of the Army and Gerald Ford’s campaign manager, understood the code. Falsely accused of conflict of interest over a Colorado ski resort development, Callaway resigned—and then cleared himself of the charges.

Walter Jenkins and Lyndon Johnson both knew the rules when Jenkins, L B J ‘s principal aide and close friend, was arrested in the Washington Y.M.C.A. in 1964. L.B.J. demanded an immediate resignation, saying “On this case, as on any such case, the public interest comes before all personal feelings.” Dwight Eisenhower’s chief of staff, Sherman Adams, who was probably as indispensable an aide as ever inhabited the White House, started to believe bis own clippings.

When he hung around after the discovery that he had accepted an expensive Oriental rug from a favor seeker, sweet old Ike lowered the boom. He sent Party Chairman Meade Alcorn to push Adams out the door.

If there is a fifth mistake in the overblown Allen drama, it will turn out to be Ronald Reagan’s. Presidents, too, have a difficult time learning that family ties, old friendships, lingering loyalties and personal sympathies must never challenge the national interest. A President’s decision to fire an aide who has embarrassed his Administration may initially seem abrupt and heartless. It may sometimes be unfair. But the long eye of history honors those Presidents who understand that the office comes first. Ronald Reagan’s decision on the Allen case will tell us much about his understanding of his job.