Dana Milbank in today’s Washington Post describes an amazing press briefing by the White House where not a single question was answered. The Bush administration has been possibly the least forthcoming and most secretive ever in the White House, and it boggles the mind that more citizens don’t seem concerned by this.
For two years, lawmakers, journalists and watchdog groups have complained that the Bush administration has been stingy with information on everything from energy policy to Iraq rebuilding. But the less-is-more communications approach reached its logical extreme in a pair of briefings in Texas on Thursday and Friday by deputy White House press secretary Claire Buchan. In an exchange of nearly 3,800 words, the spokeswoman managed not to answer about 75 questions. Thursday went like this:
Did President Bush discuss U.N. sanctions on Iraq with the Spanish prime minister? “I don’t have the specifics of their call.” Timing of the lifting of sanctions? “We have not set a specific time line.” Timing of weapons inspections? “I don’t have a time frame.” Aid groups proselytizing in Iraq? “I haven’t seen the reports.” Scientists going to Iraq to find weapons? “That’s a question you ought to put to DOD.” Syrian proposal for disarming Middle East? “They know our views, and I will leave it at that.” Will Bush make statements about Cuba? “I don’t have anything on that.” Information on Bush’s discussion with Gen. Tommy Franks? “No.”
After more such questions, the reporters shifted to a gentle line of inquiry: Bush’s weekend plans. Friends visiting? “If he has friends joining him, I don’t have a list of them.” How about his parents? “At this point, I don’t have anything on that.” Is it possible to inquire? “If we get any updates on his visitors and can share them with you, we will.” Where will he go to church? “We will have details on that tomorrow.” What’s for Easter dinner? “We will try and endeavor to get the menu.”
With so much information in their notebooks, it’s a wonder so many reporters returned Friday, when they asked whether Bush would meet with the released prisoners of war. “If we have any updates to the schedule, we’ll let you know,” Buchan said. But the intrepid scribes demanded an answer. Is it possible he’ll meet them? “At this point, his schedule is that he will go to Fort Hood on Sunday to attend church.” So it’s an open question? “If there’s anything to add, we’ll always let you know.” Will the POWs be at the church service? “If we get word that they’re going to be there, we’ll let you know if we’re able to do that.” Thwarted, the questioners returned to visitors to Bush’s ranch. “I don’t have their names.” What about his parents? “I do not have any updates on any family that’s arrived.”
When the matter is inconsequential, such as what the president is eating for dinner, the White House’s determination not to answer the question is harmless, and often amusing. But it is indicative of something larger. In a study of communications in the Bush White House, to be published in the June issue of Presidential Studies Quarterly, academic Martha Joynt Kumar writes that the administration’s intense control over information has the benefit of keeping the message simple and unified. But it also leaves presidential policies unexplained and White House responses inflexible.
“While previous administrations regularly explained policy proposals from the White House podium, it has not been a practice of the Bush administration to do so,” she writes. Kumar also observes that “one of the byproducts of a communications operation geared toward action is the difficulty inherent in listening while selling.”
