Defense counsel: Waxman is Johnnie Cochran with a congressional staff and a political agenda

National Review, Nov 10, 1997 by Rich Lowry

IN August, staff from Rep. Dan Burton's House Government Reform and Oversight Committee informally interviewed David Wang, a 1996 donor to the Democratic National Committee. Wang voluntarily confessed that he wrote two $5,000 checks to the DNC at the behest of John Huang and was reimbursed in cash the same day. But when Burton's staff decided to depose Wang -- i.e., to question him under oath in preparation for public testimony -- the committee's ranking minority member, Henry Waxman (D., Calif.), balked. "There is no need to impose further burdens on [Wang]," Waxman wrote to Burton. In addition, Waxman publicly decried the fact that Wang had been interviewed without a lawyer present.

Since informal sessions like the Wang interview -- conducted not by Burton's GOP staff, but by non-partisan detailees from the Treasury Department -- are standard practice in any investigation, Waxman seemed extraordinary solicitous for Wang. But his attitude suddenly changed when Wang showed up to testify in October. Waxman sprang a sheaf of documents on him, including a letter he had gotten the night before from John Huang's lawyer asserting that Huang couldn't have been present at a meeting alleged by Wang. Waxman said Wang's testimony "appears to be a fix," and hammered him for alleged "immigration and tax fraud."

Waxman didn't explain what incentive Wang would have had to fabricate the Huang meeting -- or why DNC check-tracking records credit his donation to John Huang. But to try to clinch the case against David Wang, Waxman's staff called his father, James Wang (who was supposedly at the Huang - Wang meeting). The staff talked to James Wang, who barely knows English, without an attorney present and tried to get him to contradict his son, sending him a statement to sign attesting that his son was mistaken about the Huang meeting. When James Wang wouldn't sign it, Waxman lawyers signed their own statement alleging that he told them his son was wrong -- even though he denies saying any such thing.

The Waxman strategy seemed clear: 1) do anything to keep Wang from telling his story publicly, even if it means defending him more vigorously than his own attorney (who had no problem with the committee's initial interview with his client), 2) then bludgeon him when he shows up as a witness, even if it means adopting a tactic you have just been denouncing (talking to a witness without an attorney). Henry Waxman is running a scandal defense at times more zealous than the White House; he's Johnnie Cochran with a congressional staff and a political agenda. "What he has," says one GOP member of the Burton Committee, "is an unashamed intent to kill an honest investigation, to wreak havoc. It's worse than [Sen. John] Glenn -- by a lot."

Along with that intent, Waxman brings a set of political skills honed to razor sharpness during his days in the majority. Adept at playing the media, well staffed, and tenacious, Waxman is universally considered the model for effective congressional politics. And he is perhaps the congressional Democrat least fazed by the GOP take-over of the House. Waxman lost his chairmanship of the Health and Environment Subcommittee of the Commerce Committee but became ranking minority member on the Burton Committee -- where he actually gained staff positions. In a sense, Waxman is the last congressional liberal left standing -- for the moment, smack in the way of a credible investigation of Clinton fundraising.

Waxman represents a Hollywood district that is one of the most affluent and liberal areas in the nation. Waxman is short and pudgy, an unglamorous representative for his glitzy constituents, but a perfect fit politically. He won election in 1974 and, together with fellow Rep. Howard Berman, forged a well-funded political machine that would have a powerful influence on California politics for two decades. In Washington, Waxman was the first to contribute heavily to fellow committee members in a campaign to win a chairmanship --nosing out a more senior Democrat for his subcommittee chairmanship as a result.

From his subcommittee, Waxman famously increased the scope of the Medicaid program in the dead of night, swelling the federal deficit almost single-handedly. The way he prevailed on this and other issues -- clean-air regulations, tobacco -- is a study in the effective use of power. "He will use everything at his disposal to kill you," says one Commerce staffer. His success was partly a matter, as one observer puts it, of "personal stamina"; he and his staff were always willing to be last to leave meetings, which in Washington is often the key to victory. And when he couldn't win immediately, he'd wait. "It's the Ho Chi Minh approach," says a Commerce staffer. "If [victory's] not in the first year, it's in the fifth."

WAXMAN matches his tenacity with an unfailing eye for media politics. "He's a master," says a former Commerce staffer, "at unveiling an issue and giving it national audience." Take tobacco. Waxman had no scruples about trotting out purloined documents to bolster his case. And when he held hearings on the issue in 1994, nothing was allowed to step on the story. Members typically defer to fellow members who want to testify at their hearings. Not Waxman --he shut out pro-tobacco then-Rep. Charlie Rose (D., N.C.). "He had the guts to tell this guy," says a GOP staffer, "'Hey, Charlie --sorry.' Guess whose story got in the papers the next day?"