Scapegoats and Survivors

I

n the theater of Washington, the classic Punch-and-Judy ritual of politician thwacking bureaucrat is always an audience favorite. When federal agencies come under attack, the script frequently includes howls for the scalps of highly placed executives.

But the behind-the-scenes secret--shared by the entire cast--is that the stoic civil servant who takes a high-visibility beating is usually simply paying the price for an unpopular policy gone awry.

Top government managers know the drill. They run federal agencies during difficult intervals between appointments of political stewards. And, as top operational deputies, they often sign orders implementing controversial decisions made by elected leaders.

Hardly the "faceless bureaucrats" of pejorative myth, these ambitious public leaders savor the challenges of their jobs and do not shun the limelight when controversy descends on their agencies. And at agencies that enforce controversial laws, firestorms of criticism are not infrequent.

When the Senate held hearings last September to rail against purported abuses by federal tax collectors, Michael P. Dolan, then acting commissioner of the Internal Revenue Service, was featured on television news reports as the man in the hot seat. The Washington Post identified Dolan as "the necessary whipping boy" whose departure would clear the way for a fresh start by a new IRS commissioner.

Similarly, Chris Sale, former acting commissioner and deputy commissioner at the Immigration and Naturalization Service, was tabbed as "the designated sacrificial lamb" by Washington Times sources when she announced in June 1997 that she was leaving the agency. During the furor raised by congressional Republicans in 1996 over White House efforts to accelerate the naturalization of potential new voters in time for the presidential election, Sales' name had surfaced as a central figure in Clinton administration infighting over the issue.

Dolan and Sale bore up well under the pressures of congressional scrutiny, as they have throughout their government careers. Accordingly, they have been chosen to share the eighth annual Government Executive Leadership Award, cosponsored by the National Capital Area Chapter of the American Society of Public Administration.

Paying the Price

Dolan, 50, will wrap up a 27-year career at the IRS this fall. Despite congressional demands for his head, he says the decision to leave was his alone and not made under any pressure from within the agency or the parent Treasury Department. He currently is weighing offers to either assume another top federal post or enter private law practice.

"The folks who control the political process want to draw a line in the sand: 'New IRS v. Old IRS,' " Dolan says. "As I put all that together, it struck me that it made sense to say, 'OK, I will stand by my record and feel good about my career and what the [agency] has done, but let someone else come to help move the organization forward.' "

Sale, 49, is now chief operating officer of the Small Business Administration, but currently is on detail to the Office of Management and Budget, where she reportedly will soon be nominated to the post of controller. Sale, too, says it was her decision to leave the immigration service last year. "It was time for me to make a change and I made it," she says. "And my family was happy to think that I might have more time for them."

In agencies that are under constant pressure to produce results or to cope with recurring crises, a physical toll is exacted on top leaders. Lawrence B. Gibbs, the IRS commissioner from 1986 to 1989, points out that Dolan has held the agency's top career post since 1992, accomplishing the highly unusual feat of serving as deputy under four separate commissioners. "I think your stamina and appetite for these jobs lasts only so long," he says. "You just get worn out."

Margaret M. Richardson, IRS commissioner from 1993 to 1997, says it's "unfortunate" that Dolan appears to be resigning under fire because he had told her some time ago that he would make a decision this summer "for personal reasons." Noting that she chose to retain him as her deputy "because of his intellect and experience," she praised his efforts to defend the competence and integrity of the agency before hostile Senate interrogators. "He was the right person there at the right time," Richardson says.

During Gibbs' tenure, Dolan, who was assistant commissioner for human resources, won plaudits for pioneering cooperative relations with the National Treasury Employees Union. "Because of Mike's credibility with [labor], I was able to come in and institute a unique program in which management and the union were able to get together and conduct quality and customer service training on a joint basis," Gibbs says.

Free From Blame

Unlike Dolan, the consummate agency insider, Sale came to the immigration service in the spring of 1991 as a fiscal manager who'd earned her spurs in various assignments outside the agency. A year and a half later, however, she was thrust into the role of acting agency head, a job she held for the better part of what turned out to be a very turbulent year. After the current INS commissioner, Doris M. Meissner, was confirmed in October 1993, Sale was designated her deputy.

With its complex mission of patrolling borders and fighting illegal immigration while also providing services to legal immigrants, the immigration service has long been viewed as a nightmare to manage. Sale, however, relished the challenge. "I've always been intrigued when somebody says, 'This needs to be fixed. Come help us fix it,' " she says.

When she announced that she planned to leave after more than six years at the agency, Sale's colleagues showered her with praise. Meissner cited the "skill and dedication that Chris brought to the critical challenges we have faced." And former associate commissioner T. Alexander Aleinikoff spoke of the "rare combination of tough-mindedness and humanitarianism" that Sale brought to the agency.

Perhaps most telling, though, is the faint praise grudgingly tendered by congressional investigators who skewered the administration for failing to properly check criminal records in its rushed 1996 naturalization drive. "Chris Sale's one of the semi-scapegoats that this administration seems so good at creating," says a Republican aide who helped spearhead the Hill probe. Compared with officials in the Vice President's office and Justice Department higher-ups, "she was the most cautious," he says.

Indeed, subpoenaed records revealed that a White House operative viewed Sale as an obstacle to efforts to speed up the citizenship process and at one point suggested that she be replaced as INS deputy. Sale diplomatically recalls that she "didn't perceive any extraordinary pressure other than the personal frustration" of the White House operative who called for her removal. She stayed on and ultimately signed a directive giving INS field offices more money and flexibility to conduct the Citizenship USA naturalization drive, but declined to relax legally based rules and procedures. "It didn't seem realistic for us to change those, and they didn't get changed," she says.

Another GOP aide, who remains harshly critical of the INS's performance, conceded that "at the end of the day, I would not lay the blame for Citizenship USA at the feet of Chris Sale."

It's expected that Dolan, too, will be found largely free of blame. During the Senate's airing of gripes against the IRS, he was charged with failing to take disciplinary action against top agency officials allegedly guilty of wrongdoing. The General Accounting Office is reviewing the matter, but Dolan says he's confident he will be fully exonerated. "I took a number of disciplinary actions, including several that were severe," he says. "On the other end of the equation, I found allegations made against senior managers that turned out to be baseless."

Gibbs says the attacks against Dolan come with the territory for top agency officials. "You understand when you go into those jobs that if you stay for any appreciable period, something is likely to come along and get you. There are all sorts of whistleblowers who are happy to go after you."

'Never-Never Land'

Dolan and Sale have much in common. As acting agency heads, they have operated in the hazardous territory normally reserved for partisan presidential appointees. As such, notes Dolan, "you find yourself in a never-never land. You are somewhere between a career civil servant and a truly designated political policy official. There are some advantages, but you're not an administration official who can stake out a line and a view."

Sale says "it really took my breath away" when she was named interim head of the immigration service. "The first week, I was as much scared to death as I was honored. But then I turned to the career staff and asked them to support me and began to reconfigure the team so that we could manage."

Her supposedly brief assignment as acting commissioner ended up lasting more than 10 months, during which the agency was frequently in the headlines as it coped with a surge in Haitian boat people, smuggling rings bringing illegal immigrants from China and the arrests of foreigners involved in the World Trade Center bombing and the shooting outside Central Intelligence Agency headquarters.

Sale, who was raised in Puerto Rico and speaks fluent Spanish, discovered that events around the world--civil unrest, famines, refugee emergencies--all have an impact on the INS' mission. "When I first went to work there," she recalled, "I was told that whenever anything happens internationally, you will feel a reciprocal event. It turned out to be true."

Reflecting on a career that has included a tour in state government and a stint with privately incorporated National Public Radio, Sale says, "There is no other company in the country that gives you a chance to do the things that the federal government gives you a chance to do." Taking the heat when agencies come under fire is part of the bargain, she says. "One of the things that was clearly understood when the Senior Executive Service system was designed was that there would be high stakes involved and that high opportunities would be accompanied by high risks. It may not sound humble, but I really am proud of what I have done."

As Dolan prepares to leave the IRS, he says his only regret is that the recent political spectacle promoting passage of legislation to reform the agency painted an unfair picture that "tears away at the credibility of what's probably the best tax system in the world."

To the extent that the agency made mistakes, Dolan says critics were correct to assign responsibility to him. "If you are the senior career person, this stuff ought to be at your feet. You ought to be accountable for what's going on in the organization."

The IRS, he says, will always spark controversy as it grapples with the tension between fair treatment and tough enforcement. "You want to provide first-class service to those who are trying their damndest to comply, but you also want to be viewed as somebody who's going to impose consequences when people don't pay their fair share."

Dolan says he did his best, "at an extraordinarily significant time in the IRS's history," to present a balanced view of how well the agency copes with the difficult task of implementing tax laws that politicians are constantly changing. "I have loved the challenge that has come my way in the organization and the opportunity to learn, to grow and to work with a hell of a lot of neat people inside the agency and out."

As they move on to new challenges, Dolan and Sale both have their heads held high--and their scalps firmly attached.

Dick Kirschten is a contributing editor at National Journal.

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