The Presidency

By Hugh Sidey

Somebody in the tense corridors of the U.S. Capitol last week called it the "ethics monster," an animal bred and trained by Democrats to feed on sleaze in the Executive Branch over the past 20 years. But the beast has broken loose in Washington and is devouring its congressional handlers. The consternation is palpable.

Jim Wright, the sinking Speaker of the House, summoned the media to say he was delighted that the big hearing this Tuesday on his motion to dismiss charges of breaking House rules will be wide open and televised. This after he and his phalanx of lawyers spent ten days fighting to keep the session off the screen. The monster just would not heel. Television will likely encourage it.

Troubles for Democratic whip Tony Coelho mounted with stories of his profiting from favoritism by borrowing money to buy a $100,000 junk bond from Drexel Burnham Lambert -- a deal that ultimately netted him $6,882. Avenging Republicans hovered over fax machines, gathering new items from the stories on Coelho in California's crusading Fresno Bee.

Coelho was sighted on Capitol Hill one morning having breakfast with Mike Deaver, an early victim of the ethics monster. Was he meeting for advice or commiseration? Coelho, a longtime friend of fellow Californian Deaver, would not say.

Meantime, former Speaker Tip O'Neill was seen jetting into the capital, rumored to have been summoned by distressed old-line Democrats who were profoundly concerned that the scandals were gravely hurting the House and shaming the Democratic Party across the nation. One unconfirmed story had it that O'Neill, who disappeared as mysteriously as he came, had fingered the entire top Democratic leadership of the House as damaged goods who should be replaced by fresh men such as Indiana's Lee Hamilton and Missouri's Dick Gephardt.

Hamilton epitomized the Democratic anguish. He starred with his morality lectures during the Iran-contra hearings and has continued to be a scold about virtue in public life. He has been oddly silent on Wright, his own leader, while admitting the questions he gets back home in his district are becoming more unsettling and more numerous. "Letting the process run," as he puts it to his constituents, obviously has its limits. We may be close this week.

The Wright affair has a low-priority rating among most Americans. That may , change with the televised debate. It appears that many people are just beginning to understand that the Speaker is at the top of our political structure along with the President and the Chief Justice of the U.S. An assault on his authority is a historic event. No Speaker has been forced from office because of personal scandal. The autocratic Joe Cannon was stripped of much of his power back in 1910, and he withered away. But that was a sheer political play by fed-up House members.

At week's end the Capitol was in a hushed frenzy. Wright's legal team was desperately organizing his case. Democrats were gathering in clots to probe one another's views, phoning for news, sometimes arguing angrily over how much loyalty they owed the Speaker. The general feeling was that the disenchantment with Wright may have reached critical mass midweek, and it would take a miracle to cool it down. Miracles have been in short supply lately, particularly for Democrats.

One of them sighed, "He'll be gone by Memorial Day." That may be an extreme view, but it is a measure of the despondency Jim Wright has brought to the Democrats.