RHETORICAL QUESTIONS

A CZAR WHO LEADS WITH HIS LIP

Is William J. Bennett, the drug czar-designate, expected to talk America's drug users out of their habits? Some people seem to think so. Indeed, talking down drug use is, from one point of view, a major function of drug czardom. The Washington Post, in reporting Bennett's selection to the position, said the outspoken former secretary of education was the "logical" choice of "those who argue that it is first and foremost a 'rhetorical' post, part of a struggle to raise the national consciousness and reduce the consumption of drugs."

George Bush himself, in announcing his choice of Bennett, spoke more about the force of public opinion in the drug war than he did about such matters as improving law enforcement, spending antidrug funds more effectively or ironing out the interagency feuding that has reportedly bogged down Washington's interdiction efforts. "The nation has turned a hard eye now on drugs," Bush said. "Zero tolerance is becoming a national attitude, and one I mean to encourage."

Bennett, who has no law enforcement experience, apparently agrees that what he does with the rhetorical side of his job will be central to any success he may have in attacking the drug problem. He has described the post as, in part, "talking to the American people, having a conversation with the American people, because I think public opinion, public feeling, public attitude matters so much . . . . In the war against drugs, you don't, I guess, expect me to be walking a beat or patrolling in people's houses."

Bennett is thus setting for himself the role of attitude adjustor: He is to be a cultural persuader. Not only is that an interesting way for a drug czar to start work, it is also, in the federal scheme of things, extremely unusual work to have. Americans may value rhetorical leadership when they find it -- usually a serendipitous event -- but they rarely create "rhetorical posts" where persons of presumed rhetorical or oratorical ability are expected to strut their stuff and affect the public outlook.

The kind of rhetorical leadership we are accustomed to from within the government is that of "morale-raising." Making us feel good about ourselves has become essential at the presidential level in recent years. Among Ronald Reagan's greatest achievements, it is often said, is that he raised our morale. Among Jimmy Carter's greatest failures, to choose the easy example, is that he lowered it. Morale maintenance is, in any event, one of the traditional responsibilities of effective leadership, from FDR's Depression-era fireside chats to the war of words Winston Churchill waged against Nazi Germany.

The other familiar kind of rhetorical leadership is that of "consciousness-raising"; it most often comes from persons outside the establishment. Figures from the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. to Ralph Nader to Mitch Snyder, among many others, have sought to raise the public's awareness of an issue, and ultimately to affect policy by bringing public pressure to bear on the political establishment.

Bennett's job, as he and others have defined it, reverses this familiar dynamic: He is on the inside of the policymaking establishment, trying, among other things, to raise the consciousness of those on the outside.

The country hasn't seen this kind of prominent proselytizer from within the ranks of its government since George Creel was appointed to stir up anti-German sentiment during World War I. The result of that experiment was popular distaste; the "Creel Commission" literally gave the word propaganda a bad name.

The very language of the current version of the war on drugs reflects the confusion over how to wage it. The implication of having an appointed "czar" is presumably to empower someone to "fight" a "war" against drug use. The entire vocabulary is either despotic or military.

But Bennett's credentials are not those of a warrior; he is more of an evangelist. His claim to political prominence was his use of the "bully pulpit" as education secretary. Many of his most ardent conservative supporters boost Bennett with citations to his bully pulpit. The image of a czar may be ill-suited to the occasion; Bennett seems destined to be more of a preacher, or perhaps the nation's assistant principal for -- or against -- drugs.

During Prohibition, federal officials defined their role entirely in terms of law enforcement. Anti-alcohol persuasion was left to the Woman's Christian Temperance Union and other private groups that opposed liquor consumption on principle; the law spoke for itself. The current language of the drug war suggests that now, it no longer does.

Articles appear as they were originally printed in The Washington Post and may not include subsequent corrections.