Newt's Secret Plan: To Stay Right Where He Is

By James Carney/New York

In the lobby of the 92nd Street Y, on the affluent Upper East Side of Manhattan, a middle-aged couple stood in line last week, speculating on the motives of the political celebrity they had come to hear. "I'm telling you, he's pushing an agenda," the man said in an agitated voice. His wife calmly replied, "He's pushing his book, that's what he's pushing." The man considered her words and shook his head. "You think Newt Gingrich isn't pushing an agenda? A leopard doesn't change his spots!"

There is an agenda, but probably not the one the man suspected. As Gingrich crisscrosses the country selling Lessons Learned the Hard Way, a contrite new book about his tumultuous first three years as Speaker of the House, he is telling audiences and readers alike that he has metamorphosed from the tantrum-prone revolutionary of 1995 into a sober leader who has finally figured out how to run Congress. And by dropping into bookstores in New Hampshire last week and Iowa this week (both early-primary states), he is hinting strongly at a run for the White House. But what Gingrich is really after is not a new job but a second chance in the one he already occupies.

Last fall, the accepted wisdom among House Republicans was that Gingrich planned to give up the speakership next year to launch a long-shot campaign for President. He had said as much himself, sotto voce. And though few of his colleagues believed that the man with the lowest approval rating of any national politician in the U.S. could win the nomination, they assured themselves that the Speaker's real goal was to exit gracefully from the House, a place he was no longer wanted. Newt's plans were so well known that Dick Armey, the majority leader, and Bob Livingston, chairman of the Appropriations Committee, have been waging a bitter battle of succession since February.

"It was a foregone conclusion," a senior Republican says of Newt's departure. "Now I'm not so sure." Neither is Gingrich. Much like Clinton, he is beginning to worry about his legacy. Sources close to Gingrich say he hates the idea that he might be remembered as the disgraced Speaker who quit to run a losing presidential campaign. Or one who was distracted by personal ambition just as the Republicans' slim House majority went on the line in this November's election. He would much rather be recalled as the "transformational leader" (his words) who ushered in that majority for a generation. Now that last summer's attempt by House G.O.P. rebels to overthrow him is a distant memory, Gingrich is finding the Speaker's chair a lot more comfortable. "He wants the option of running [for President]," says a close associate. "But what he really wants is to restore his position as leader of the party."

In service to his new image, Gingrich, now slimmer, sunnier and more relaxed, is leaving it to his deputies to trash the President. After Armey declared last week that Bill Clinton is "shameless" and should resign, Gingrich tried hard to avoid being drawn into the name calling. He completely understood Armey's feelings, Gingrich told book buyers at the Barnes & Noble in Manchester, N.H., "but I think all of us are better served by just being patient and letting [Kenneth] Starr finish" his investigation. Besides, Gingrich said later, he would much rather talk about his four "Goals for a Generation"--a presidential-style platform of smooth-edged policy proposals that include a plan to rescue Social Security through individual retirement accounts.

Staying in the Speaker's job may serve more than Gingrich's ego. To many Republicans, he looks good compared to his would-be successors. In a party increasingly divided by factions--between social and economic conservatives, tax cutters and debt hawks, reformers and pork barrelers--coalition builders are hard to find. If Gingrich departs and the G.O.P. coalition that won the House falls apart, he could be remembered as little more than the Speaker of a House of Cards.

--By James Carney/New York