FOR THE PRESIDENT-MORNING BRIEFING ON PRESS CONFERENCE
As he turned the page, he heard Tim Flannery saying, “One thing, Mr. President.” He looked up, and Flannery went on, “You’ll notice a star in the margin, and the name of a newspaper or wire service beneath it, alongside several questions. There are not many, but those are the ones we planted to be sure they were asked. They’re the ones we feel you have good replies to and can come off well with.”
“I knew it was done,” said Dilman, “but how do you manage it? Don’t the reporters resent it?”
“Not at all,” said Flannery. “It gives them added news, even if canned or controlled, as they may think. These are men we can depend upon. They do us a favor, and at the right time we repay them with an exclusive lead. It’s not too obvious. Yesterday I called in one of the bureau chiefs representing a New York paper, handed him a written question, and I said, ‘Look, if you ask the President this question, in your own words, you might get an interesting answer. I’m just tipping you off.’ He looked at the question and said. ‘You mean, he’d like to get an official policy statement on this off his chest?’ I said, ‘I think so. It won’t be pap. It’ll be solid and definite.’ He said, ‘Okay, Tim, good enough.’ ” Flannery smiled at Dilman. “It’s the way we’ve worked in the past, with excellent results.”
“Fine,” said Dilman. “You two do whatever you wish until I’ve gone over this. If I have any questions, I won’t be reticent. I’ll need every bit of direction I can get today.”
Dilman studied the second page in the folder. Under the heading, YOUR OPENING REMARKS, there was a concise list of the subjects that he would cover in his reading of the mimeographed text. Next, under the heading, QUESTIONS ON OPENING REMARKS AND OTHER MATTERS (IF ASKED), there were fourteen short queries. Turning the page, Dilman found the heading, YOU MAY RESPOND AS FOLLOWS, and here each possible inquiry was repeated, followed by a suggested reply, severely condensed to one paragraph. This ran almost two pages. The last heading read, BACKGROUND, with numbers keyed to the questions and answers, and tight paragraphs filled with authoritative quotations and statistics from government departments elaborating upon the suggested responses.
Flipping back to the second page, Dilman quickly went over the outline of the prepared statement already in his briefcase, which he was to read to the reporters and television cameras. The general tone was humble and conciliatory. He was to begin by saying that he welcomed the opportunity to meet with the men and women of the fourth estate upon whom the electorate depended for all information concerning their government. He was to say that he felt they would perform with the same sense of responsibility with which he would try to perform. Never in our history, he would say, was a President or the public more dependent upon news media for accuracy and reliability. There would be the quotation from Thomas Jefferson: “The press is the best instrument for enlightening the mind of man, and improving him as a rational, moral, and social being.” Tim Flannery had calculated that these remarks, this initial flattery, would soften the cynical reporters, make them preen with self-importance, make them know that here was a Chief Executive who would cooperate with them. Remembering the writings of Reb Blaser and his kind, Dilman felt less confidence in the uses of flattery, but he liked Flannery too much to disagree.
After that, there was the repetition of all of Dilman’s press statements of the past month. He had not sought the Presidency, he had not wanted it, but since it was his duty by law to undertake the office, he would do so to the best of his ability. He had, he was to say, only a short time-short time was underlined-to be the caretaker of T. C.’s ideals. As a senator, he was to say, he had always admired and supported T. C., and he was to cite his voting record as a congressman. The country, he was to say, need expect no drastic detours from the peaceful and prosperous road along which the former President had been leading it. Had he not already given evidence of good faith in retaining every member of T. C.’s Cabinet and personal staff of advisers?
Troubled, Dilman looked up. Talley and Flannery were across the Oval Office, leaning against the fireplace, smoking, whispering. He considered telling them that he did not like these opening remarks. They seemed too humble, as if he were apologizing to the press and the 230 million Americans for having a Negro in the wrong place, as if reassuring everyone that the fact that he was a member of a minority race would not destroy them. Yet he had no courage to bring it up this late, for he realized that these were not Flannery’s words but the language of politically expert white men like Talley, Eaton, and the Cabinet members, and perhaps they knew what was best for him.
He concentrated on the rest of his opening remarks, mostly official news announcements: he had met with the National Space Council and agreed that within three months the advanced Apollo rocket would catapult a team of three astronauts into orbit; he had given assurances to Brazil and India that A-11 flights would not be continued over their embattled borders; he was being kept closely informed of Secretary of State Eaton’s meetings with Russian Ambassador Rudenko, and could reveal now only that progress had been made, and it was likely that the interrupted Roemer Conference with the Premier of the Soviet Union would be resumed at another site, probably on the European Continent; he had sat in on one meeting with labor leaders, heads of the steel industry, and Secretary Barnes, and he was confident the impending strike would be averted; he had been informed of the exclusive story in the Chicago
Dilman unwrapped a cigar, bit off one end, and lighted it. Although his opening remarks were filled with news, he knew that they would not be enough, and that Flannery and Talley knew it, too. Puffing the cigar, Dilman went down the possible questions that he might be asked, and then he examined the answers offered to him.
Dilman put down his cigar and rubbed his eyes. The last question was the only one, so far, to which he had written the response. He realized now that his statement was ambiguous, and might not satisfy the press.
“Tim,” he called out, “do you think they’ll try to pin me down on the MRP Bill?”
Flannery nodded. “I think you can expect it.”
Talley took a few steps from the fireplace. “Mr. President, I’m positive you’ll avoid a lot of nettlesome questions by simply coming out in flat support of-”
“Governor,” Dilman interrupted, “I’m not saying I’m against it, God knows. It’s just so damn big and important, I want to feel sure it is right-will ease off the tension-”
Flannery said, “Then whatever you’re asked, keep saying you are consulting with your advisers, seeking the best and most efficient legislation possible. You know the sort of thing.”
“I understand,” said Dilman.
He reviewed the remaining possible questions and suggested responses quickly. How often would he hold press conferences? There was a star after this one. It had been planted. He was to say that he hoped to air ideas