In My Time - Dick Cheney [161]
IN ADDITION TO BEING the oldest guy in the West Wing, I was also the only one the president couldn’t fire. As vice president, having been elected and sworn in, I carried my own duties as a constitutional officer. There were only two of them: succeeding the president if he was unable to complete his term and serving as president of the Senate, where I got to cast tie-breaking votes. Beyond that, my role depended on George W. Bush. I had no line responsibility. I wasn’t technically in charge of anything. I could only give advice. And the impact of my advice depended first and foremost on my relationship with the president. At the end of the day, it wouldn’t have mattered how many years of experience I had or how many other offices I’d held, if the president wasn’t interested in what I had to say.
From day one George Bush made clear he wanted me to help govern.
With President Bush in the Oval Office. In 2000, George W. Bush told me he wanted a vice president who would play an important role in governing the nation, and he was true to his word for the entire 8 years we served together. (Official White House Photo/David Bohrer)
He had given a tremendous amount of thought, time, and attention to the issue of what his vice president would do. To the extent that this created a unique arrangement in our history, with a vice president playing a significant role in the key policy issues of the day, it was George Bush’s arrangement. For all the eight years we served together, he kept his word that I would have a major role, and I will always be grateful to him for that.
As I think back on what made the relationship work, several things come to mind. First, I made clear early on that I would not be running for president myself in four or eight years. The president never had to worry that I was taking a position with an eye toward how it might be perceived by voters in Iowa or New Hampshire. I also decided to limit my exposure to the press. When I’d been White House chief of staff and secretary of defense, I’d spent a fair amount of time backgrounding reporters and granting interviews, but as vice president I wanted a much lower profile. Members of the press were most often interested in what advice I had given the president on a particular issue, and he needed to know that I wasn’t walking out the door of the Oval Office to brief reporters on what I’d just said.
In addition, from the transition onward, there were media stories that I was somehow in charge. They weren’t true, and stepping out too much too publicly would only have fed them. I did do a number of memorable and important press interviews, including one with Tim Russert on the Sunday after 9/11, but I was generally much less accessible to the press than I had been in the past. I soon discovered that this was not a strategy for enhancing my image or reputation. For one thing, it limited my response to false charges made against me. But I decided then and believe now that the best way for me to serve the president and the country was to do so without briefing the media every step of the way.
When trouble develops between a president and vice president, it often begins with staff conflict. To avoid that, we decided to integrate our staffs in key areas. Mary Matalin, my communications director, wore two hats. She served as my assistant and as an assistant to the president. This was also true in national security, where Scooter Libby carried both titles. In legal matters, my general counsel, David Addington, worked closely with the lawyers in the White House counsel’s office every day. My speechwriter, John McConnell, was also one of the president’s top speechwriters. Staff meetings and the policy processes were very well integrated. There were disagreements, of course, but the system worked pretty well most of the time.
SHORTLY AFTER I WAS elected, the Speaker of the House, Denny Hastert, and soon-to-be chairman of the Ways and Means Committee, Bill Thomas,