4 THE NEW FEDERALIST

September 22, 1989

(LaRouche publication)

# Eagleburger Defends Drug General Against Panama's Gen. Noriega

by Carlos Wesley

U.S. Deputy Secretary of State Lawrence Eagleburger, who has been known to keep a portrait of Henry Kissinger on his desk where most men put snapshots of their wife and kids, has bitterly attacked the commander of Panama's Defense Forces, Gen. Manuel Noriega, for destroying the political career of an army general close to Colombia's Medellin Cartel cocaine barons.

In a speech to the Organization of American States (OAS) Aug. 31, Eagleburger complained that Noriega blocked his predecessor, Gen. Ruben Dario Paredes, from taking power in Panama. Paredes, a client of Eagleburger's former boss and business partner Kissinger, has well-documented ties to the drug mafia.

## 'Double-Crossed'?

According to Eagleburger, following the accidental death of Panama's nationalist leader Gen. Omar Torrijos in 1981, "The senior officers of the Panamanian National Guard drew up an agreement to provide for institutional stability and transfer of command." That agreement, said Eagleburger, "involved General Noriega, who solemnly signed this compact. It was provided that he would assume command. From Gen. Paredes in March of 1984, and would place the support of the military behind General Paredes's candidacy for the presidency."

"Once Paredes was out, Noriega worked against his candidacy," Eagleburger complained. "This destabilization of the institution was the proximate cause" of the Panamanian crisis, he claimed.

Who is General Paredes, whose cause Eagleburger so stroitly defends? The former commander of Panama's National Guard, the institution that Noriega transformed into the PDF, Paredes arranged to let the Medellin cocaine cartel transfer ma-

jor chunks of its operations to the jungles of Darien and elsewhere in Panama, to escape the war on drugs launched by Colombia's justice minister, Rodrigo Lara Bonilla, in 1984. Lara Bonilla was subsequently assassinated by the dope barons.

Gen. Paredes's presidential candidacy was a project promoted by Kissinger and the U.S. State Department, who considered him "a staunch anti-Communist" and a useful asset for the Nicaraguan Contra operation.

A report by the Panamanian government put out in August 1986, "Sixteen Years of Fighting Drug Trafficking," noted that the mafia's plan was designed to get clear transit of cocaine through Panama; to use Panamanian banking facilities for their transactions; and finally to install a big laboratory in Darien, Panama's less-populated jungle province."

Noriega earned the hatred of Eagleburger and Kissinger by blocking their plans to put Paredes into the presidency, which would have put Panama under the total control of the drug mob.

Almost as soon as he took over as commander of the PDF, Noriega began to dismantle the drug operation that Paredes had allowed to be established. The PDF destroyed a cocaine-processing laboratory installed by the Medellin Cartel in Darien. (In his speech, Eagleburger admitted that the lab was dismantled on Noriega's orders, but complained that Noriega had "double-crossed" the Medellin Cartel.) Noriega also got rid of one of Paredes's protegés, Lt. Col. Julian Melo Borua, who had "sold his influence to the Colombian mafia," according to the report.

## Ochoa's General

Melo was the intermediary with the Ochoa clan in Colombia, and was on the scene "when they presented a previous commander of the National Guard [Paredes] with pace horses."

Besides drugs, the Ochoa family of the Medellin Cartel is also involved in horse breeding, and the patriarch of the family, Fabio Ochoa, is one of the world's leading purveyors of these expensive horses to the elites of the United States, Ibero-America, and the European aristocracy. Fabio Ochoa was implicated in the April 30, 1984 murder of Colombian Justice Minister Lara Bonilla.

Paredes himself openly acknowledged his ties with the Medellin Cartel following the disappearance of his son, Ruben Dario Paredes, Jr., on March 13, 1986, during a trip to Colombia. As reported in EIR's Special Report "White Paper on the Panama Crisis," when his son disappeared, together with Cesar Rodriguez—a pilot running weapons for the Nicaraguan Contras, as well as for Colombia's narcoterrorist M-19—and Nubia Pino de Bravo, widow of a pilot for the drug mob, Paredes promptly picked up the phone and requested assistance from Jorge Ochoa, one of Colombia's top cocaine lords. On March 25, the three missing persons were found buried in a Medellin cemetery. All had been killed in the manner of the mafia—hands tied, blindfolded, without underwear, a single bullet hole in the left side of the head.

The reason for the mob's vengeance emerged. Colombian authorities intercepted the luxury yacht Krill, as it refueled at the island of San Andres. Found aboard the Krill were 304 kilos of cocaine, 80% pure. Its owner was listed as one of Rodriguez's companies, Crystal Sky Investments, which in turn listed the young Paredes as its attorney.

As for the elder Paredes, whom Eagleburger now defends, although the press reported that the kidnapping and murder of his son was carried out by the Ochoa clan, "General Paredes insisted that he could vouch for their innocence, because the Ochoas 'have

EIRNS/Carlos Wesley

GEN. RUBEN DARIO PAREDES (left), a man with close links to the drug mafia, with Henry Kissinger. Paredes was the Kissinger crowd's choice to become president of Panama.

given me their word," reported La Estrella de Panama on March 25. "General Paredes says he could establish that his son was not in the power

of the Ochoas, because they assured him of that."

For Paredes, his son's drug trafficking was no big deal. "He did not de-

serve this end.... He was just an adventurer like any 25-year-old.... He paid dearly for his lack of experience."

# Political Prisoner LaRouche Mistreated

## Continued from page 1

irons to the area where the procedure would occur. After being interviewed by the physician responsible for the procedure, he was given a painkiller intravenously. Because of his accumulated exhaustion he fell asleep immediately, and slept through the entire procedure. The surgical procedure lasted approximately one hour, during which time a polyp was removed from his lower intestine. After being in the recovery room for three-quarters of an hour, LaRouche was brought back to the prison where he arrived at approximately 1530 hours. On Thursday all LaRouche had installed was coffee, apple juice, and a bowl of jello. On Thursday evening he slept from sheer exhaustion.

Friday, Sept. 15. At 0320 LaRouche was awakened to go to work as normal. At 0500 hours, after just beginning work, LaRouche had to sit down because he was exhausted. At 0600 hours he was asked to help the other

physician: the evaluation of his personal physician:

> "Under this condition in West Germany, you are advised by your physician that you have to rest for the time the laxative is affecting you, usually two days before the procedure, and at least one day after the treatment. To my great astonishment, I learned that Mr. LaRouche had to work during a treatment with a supposedly strong laxative, and was called for duty less than 12 hours after his treatment. I feel obliged to raise my utmost concern about this procedure, and I want to assure you that this is not lege arts medical treatment you apply to an elderly patient in Germany."

Just as Lyndon LaRouche was targeted, railroaded, and imprisoned for his politics, so too he is now being

mistreated in prison for the same reason. It is perhaps not coincidental that these actions took place during the same week in which Soviet representative Boris Yeltsin visited the Mayo Clinic, since the decision to imprison LaRouche was undertaken jointly by the U.S. and Soviet governments. But it is George Bush, based on his personal knowledge and complicity, in events central to LaRouche's imprisonment, who shall be held individually accountable for LaRouche's fate. LaRouche has become "The Man in the Iron Mask" for George Bush.

Further precise bulletins on political prisoner Lyndon LaRouche's situation shall be released as required. Statements on LaRouche's situation should be directed to President Bush at the White House in Washington, D.C.

LaRouche Warned of Martyrdom at Sentencing

LaRouche is gone. On the con-
continues to operate and pen-
national life, without anyone
ning themselves with seriously
ing the significance of the pres-
ent this strange person and his
dangerously Messianic mes-
th money ready to be distrib-
open hands. Although impris-
aRouche's tentacles continue
d. Proof of this is that 25 APRA
smen ... appear among 100
s of a notice published not
in the New York Times and
Washington Post, calling for free-
LaRouche, 'known for his de-
f the sovereignty of Latin
's nations.'"

or Muñoz, a leader in the
arty, declared to the press at

United States even to drug traffickers, who have the right to bail, which LaRouche does not.

Congressman Benza noted La-
Rouche has named the names of those
U.S. figures who have built "enormous
fortunes" by laundering drug dollars.
Those people are "hunting down"
LaRouche as if he were an animal,
only for the crime of having an inde-
pendent view, he charged. Benza re-
ported on the physical mistreatment
of LaRouche in jail, and contended
that if a U.S. politician like Mr. La-
Rouche, who recommended debt mor-
atorium to Mexican President José
Lopez Portillo and recommends the
same for all Latin America, or a res-
ccheduling of payments, is treated that
way, "we have to really worry about

and, since the first thing must be to
substitute other crops for coca. "This
is a crucial moment for the U.S. gov-
ernment in respect to the anti-drug
fight, and we could say that it loses
credibility and moral authority if it
does not free the great fighter against
drugs Lyndon LaRouche.

"Therefore we demand the United
States show us its sincerity in this
struggle against drug trafficking, first
by stopping persecuting LaRouche,
and second by giving all necessary aid
against narcotics traffic."

Over the last two weeks, the La-
Rouche case was covered with great
sympathy on the radio and in news-
papers and magazines throughout
Mexico. Most of the coverage has fo-
cused on the hideous jail conditions

Crimes Against Human
February 25-26, 1989

Feb. 25-26, 1989

EIRNS/Stuart Lewis

PERUVIAN SENATOR JOSMEL MUNOZ: "We demand the United States show us its sincerity in this struggle against drug trafficking, first by stopping persecuting LaRouche."

suffered by the 67-year-old former
presidential candidate known for his
sympathy to the developing sector's
cause. The Monterrey daily La Razon
headlined an article in its Aug. 30 edi-

tion, "They Have Assigned LaRouche
to Hard Labor." The Sonora-based
Tribuno del Yaqui headlined a Sept.
6 article: "They Threaten the Health
of Political Prisoner LaRouche."

## LaRouche Role Breaks in Press

EIRNS/Stuart Lewis

ME, the murdered Swedish
ster.

iet disinformation cam-
resulted in a "Soviet state
n, Vremya, on March 21
height of the investigation
s murder," which "directly
LaRouche.

adcast called the contro-
lect a 'U.S. millionaire [who]
ternational pro-fascist or-
hat is in favor of Sweden's
ATO and of arming the
my, 1st reaction was

theory of KGB implication in the
Swedish leader's assassination, in-
formed the City Tribune that it is in-
vestigating on its own various addi-
tional 'angles' of the Palme case as
well as the separate case against
LaRouche."

Weeks then honed in on the KGB-
Justice Department joint "get La-
Rouche" operation:

"The latter LaRouche investigation includes the manner in which certain individuals within the Justice Department appeared to have been 'after LaRouche' as a vendetta because of his uncompromising anti-communism and anti-Sovietism, and his espousal of the Strategic Defense Initiative.

"The LaRouche organization claims to have proof of KGB involvement via American surrogates who persuaded the Justice Department into action against LaRouche for allegedly shady business practices."

### U.S. Blackout

In addition to breaking the real sto-
ry behind LaRouche's jailing—his
outspoken opposition to America's
Neville Chamberlains and their will-
ingness to sacrifice U.S. national se-
curity on the altar of detente—Weeks
also scored the U.S. media for refus-
ing to cover any aspect of the latest
developments around the Palme mur-

Sept. 15 (EIRNS)—Henry Kissinger ventured from his summer home in Kent, Conn. Sept. 13, to speak at the largest synagogue in nearby Stamford on U.S. foreign policy. He had to cross a picket line of angry protesters to get to the podium, and, when challenged from the floor in the question period to explain recent criticism of his opposition to American sanctions against China, the former secretary of state howled, "These are the LaRouche people. They follow me wherever I go."

Two days later, Kissinger was again
under attack for his stand on China—
from the Wall Street Journal, which is
hardly one of the "LaRouche people."
On Sept. 15, the Journal gave promi-
nent page-one coverage to Kissinger's
conflict of interest over U.S. policy to-
ward China. (Kissinger is a member of
an important government body with
access to top-secret material; namely,
the President's Foreign Intelligence
Advisory Board.)

"Mr. Kissinger's interests include a
limited partnership called China
Ventures. It was established in Dela-
ware to pool $75 million raised from
U.S. investors for joint ventures with
China International Trust & Invest-
ment Corp. (CITIC), the merchant-
banking arm of the Chinese govern-
ment," the Journal reported. "Mr. Kis-
singer was designated chairman of the
board and chief executive officer of the
general partnership with executive
responsibility for managing its af-
fairs."

The other board members of China
Ventures are a "Who's Who" of the top
clients of Kissinger Associates, Kis-
singer's lucrative international con-
sulting firm. They include Maurice R.
"Hank" Greenberg, president of the
American International Corp., which
has insurance joint ventures with
Chinese banks; Anthony J.F. O'Reilly,
president of H.J. Heinz, a Kissinger
client that has a major joint venture

in the PRC; James D. Robinson III,
chief executive officer of American
Express, which since Henry Kissinger
became a board member has invested
$1 billion in Red China; and, Donald
R. Keough, president of Coca-Cola,
another Kissinger client that has mul-
tiple soft drink joint ventures in China.

The Journal also reported on Kissinger's role in establishing the America-China Society, which operates out of the New York headquarters of Kissinger Associates: "It is hard to tell at times where such cultural activities end and Mr. Kissinger's business interests begin. Last July, for example, he led a delegation of U.S. businessmen to Beijing on behalf of the American-China Society. Three of 13 executives on the trip were clients of Kissinger Associates. In China, their host was Rong Yiren, the chairman of CITIC, the Chinese government agency then in the midst of negotiating the deal with China Ventures."

## It's Dinkins vs. Giuliani for N.Y. Mayor

by D.S. Pepper

Sept. 15 (EIRNS)—The longest run-
ning stand-up comedy routine in
American politics came to an end on

of the city. While the race issue had
been highlighted throughout the cam-
paign, it is clear that Dinkins' support
came from a much wider base than had

There seems little chance that Giu-
liani can overcome the Democratic
majority and win the general election
in November. Democrats own a 6 to

PATRICK
BUCHANAN

# Who owns the GOP?

For whose benefit is U.S. foreign policy conducted?
A slice of the right has long insisted that national interests routinely take a back seat to the Manhattan banking interests, that the Council on Foreign Relations, and its Rockefeller-funded little sister, the Trilateral Commission, have, under both parties, directed foreign policy for the benefit of America's Big Banks.

To air such an idea at a Georgetown dinner party is instantly, of course, to establish credentials as a certifiable loon, an escapee from the political Everglades, never to be invited again.

Well, perhaps, those of the fevered brow deserve a new hearing.

This weekend, The Washington Post revealed that Secretary of State James A. Baker III, architect of the "Baker Plan" to bail out Third World debtors, has a huge slice of his personal fortune tied up in the Chemical Banking Corp. of New York, which holds $5.7 billion in Third World debt. [Yesterday afternoon, in Rome, Mr. Baker announced that he is selling the controversial holdings.]

Talk about an "apparent" conflict of interest!

Launched in 1985 by then Treasury Secretary Baker, the Baker Plan has siphoned vast sums from Treasury's vaults, the World Bank, and the International Monetary Fund, funneling them to Mexico City, Brasilia and Buenos Aires. Without the loans, those regimes would have defaulted. Without the Baker Plan, Chase Manhattan, Citicorp, Manufacturers Hanover, and Chemical, with 7 percent of its "assets" in Third World paper, could have gone bust.

Since World Bank, IMF and U.S. loans are taxpayer-guaranteed, the Baker Plan salvaged the reputations and profits of New York bankers only by increasing massively the debt exposure of the American people. As the banks were bailed out, we were bailed in. As they grew fat and flush with cash, you and I, friends, took on huge slices of worthless debt.

In Mr. Baker's defense, he came by his Chemical stock accidentally. In 1981, he had large family holdings in the Houston-based Texas Commerce Bancshares. When that troubled bank was purchased by Chemical in 1987, Mr. Baker's Bancshares stock was automatically traded for Chem-

In Mr. Baker's defense, he came by his Chemical stock accidentally. In 1981, he had large family holdings in the Houston-based Texas Commerce Bancshares. When that troubled bank was purchased by Chemical in 1987, Mr. Baker's Bancshares stock was automatically traded for Chemical stock. Still, questions need answering.

Recall: in 1982, when Mexico halted payment on its debt. There was a panic that U.S. banks with billions in loans to Mexico could go under. It was said that perhaps 1,000 banks in the Southwest held the bad Mexican paper. The United States began madly pumping money south of the Rio Grande. According to the Mexico-United States Institute, since 1982, "Mexico has received about $27 billion in financial assistance... from the United States, World Bank, IMF, Bank for International Settlements and private financial institutions." And, since February of '85, James A. Baker has been the main man leveraging that $27 billion.

Questions: Was Texas Commerce Bancshares, with the Baker family fortune tied up in it, ever threatened by a Mexican default? Was Jim Baker's personal fortune spared, or enhanced, by that $27 billion Mexican bailout? To what extent has the Baker Plan propped up the Chemical stock Jim Baker now holds as his prime asset?

Anyone who ever worked with Jim Baker knows he is not a venal man; he is a dedicated public servant, but he is also a show horse, a great favorite of the Washington elite. Had this been the "Meese Plan" and Ed's money tied up in Chemical stock, while he shoveled the big bucks south, Ursula Meese would be tying yellow ribbons 'round old oak trees awaiting Ed's return from Danbury.

Other questions need answering, by Mr. Baker's new deputy, Mr. Lawrence Eagleburger.

In 1982, to the consternation of Treasury Secretary Donald Regan, Mr. Eagleburger, an ex-Carter envoy to Yugoslavia whom Al Haig brought to State, put the arm on nine U.S. banks to bail out the post-Tito regime with a billion-dollar loan. What the devil was the State Department doing bailing out Marxist regimes, some of us howled. Well, months later, Mr. Eagleburger surfaced as president of Yugo America Inc., with the franchise to peddle those little $4,000 cars representing the latest in Serbo-Croatian technology. Yugo went belly up last month, just as Mr. Eagleburger exited to return to State as Mr. Bush's deputy secretary.

(According to Senate aides, Mr. Eagleburger's auto company was a wholly owned subsidiary of the Yugoslav arms industry, which was dumping the cars for hard currency, while destroying U.S. jobs.)

Mr. Eagleburger was also a board member of LBS Bank, the U.S. subsidiary of Ljubljanska Bank, which Senate aides believe is a Belgrade front for money-laundering and high-tech transfers. In 1987, LBS, with 15 employees, reported piddling profits of $19,000; in December, the bank and its chairman were indicted.

Like the president's national security aide, Brent Scowcroft, Mr. Eagleburger was a big player at Kissinger Associates, whose name partner, of course, was advising David Rockefeller when the billionaire statesman led New York's idiot-bankers into the Third World swamp from which we are even now retrieving their assets.

For George Bush, the problem here is not simply another ethics flap. It is the perception that the Republican Party, ripped away from the Rockefellers and the Eastern Establishment in Goldwater's coup at the San Francisco Cow Palace in 1964, has been taken back into receivership, that the party no longer represents us, but them.

Washington
Times
2/15/89

16A..

Wednesday/November 29/1989/Star Tribune

# Kissinger's speech at 'U' interrupted by protesters

By Robert Whereatt
Staff Writer

The fast-paced events unfolding in Eastern Europe make this "the most pregnant moment in the post-war period," former U.S. Secretary of State Henry Kissinger said Tuesday in the Twin Cities.

After helping to preserve democracy in much of Europe, the United States now has an opportunity to partici-

pate in decisions that will make the world "less dangerous, more peaceful," Kissinger said at a news conference cut short by demonstrators protesting U.S. involvement in El Salvador.

"That sort of opportunity comes along only once in a century."

Kissinger, who served most of the 1970s under President Richard Nixon, was in the Twin Cities to speak at the 21st Century Program, a lecture series for top-level business executives. The program is sponsored by the University of Minnesota's Carlson School of Management.

Kissinger is also scheduled to be the main attraction at a $2,000-per person breakfast fund-raiser this morning for Republican Sen. Rudy Bushwitz at the Radisson Plaza Hotel in Minneapolis. Kissinger, who also served as national security adviser, spoke briefly at a news conference in

the university's Humphrey Center. He said the events in Eastern Europe require leaders, including President Bush, to address what the political organization of the continent should be.

He disagreed with critics who charge that Bush is not doing enough to hasten democratic reform in the Eastern Bloc. But he said the president must talk to Soviet President Mikhail Gorbachev about the new political alignment in Europe, about troop withdrawals and European security. "And above all, he needs to talk to our allies," Kissinger said.

The news conference was interrupted by about 18 protesters. At one point, Kissinger told a demonstrator that he had been out of government for 12 years. "Go to Washington and argue with the people in Washington," he said.

Demonstrators also disrupted his re-

marks to 90 top business executives. They stood outside a closed-door auditorium in the Humphrey Center, yelling "Stop the killing, stop the war, U.S. out of El Salvador."

Jennifer Leazer, a junior at the university and a member of the Progressive Student Organization, said she and others were protesting Kissinger's appearance because he is "an architect of U.S. foreign policy" in Central America and because he is participating in Boschwitz's fund-raiser.

Boschwitz has supported U.S. aid to the El Salvadoran regime and reaffirmed that position as recently as Friday at a news conference in St. Paul.

The protesters said they planned to demonstrate at Boschwitz's fund-raiser.

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8 CHICAGO SUN-TIMES, TUESDAY, OCTOBER 3, 1989

# Kissinger testifies in libel trial here

By Adrienne Drell

Former Secretary of State Henry A. Kissinger testified here Monday that he did not believe former India Prime Minister Morarji Desai was a paid informant for the CIA.

However, Kissinger, who served as national security adviser from 1969 until 1975, conceded that he did not know the names of any U.S. intelligence sources and so could not be certain Desai was not an agent.

Kissinger was testifying in the heavily guarded courtroom of U.S. District Judge Charles Norgle, where Desai's attorneys are pressing a libel suit against Pulitzer Prize-winning author Seymour Hersh.

After 2½ hours on the stand, Kissinger held an impromptu news conference at which he rapped Hersh for his reliance on unidentified sources in his best-selling book, *The Price of Power: Henry Kissinger in the Nixon White House*.

"I would have far preferred not to have to testify and would be just as happy if I never heard of Mr. Hersh again," said Kissinger. "I'm not looking for an opportunity to prove points against Mr. Hersh, so the quicker he goes out of my life, the happier I would be."

The book accuses Desai, India's prime minister from 1977 until 1979, of being a $20,000-a-year

SUN-TIMES/Jim Klimosch

After testifying in the libel trial of author Seymour Hersh Monday, former Secretary of State Henry A. Kissinger criticizes Hersh for relying on unidentified sources in his book.

informant for the CIA during the India-Pakistan War in 1971.

Kissinger insisted on the stand that "to the best of my belief Desai was not:" a highly placed Indian source for the CIA.

LA Times

Sunday

October 8, 1989

EDITORS' NOTE: The Los Angeles Times published an article by Henry A. Kissinger on July 30, 1989, in which he supported Chinese leader Deng Xiaoping's economic reforms. He wrote, among other things, that "no government in the world would have tolerated having the main square of its capital occupied for eight weeks" and criticized the June 4 suppression in Tian An Men Square as "shocking."

The Wall Street Journal published a story on Sept. 15, 1989, saying that Kissinger had economic ties in China, notably a limited partnership called China Ventures to pool $75 million raised from U.S. investors for joint ventures with the China International Trust and Investment Corp., a merchant bank established by the Chinese government.

Kissinger says that in early June, China Ventures was still not operational and had made no investments. On June 6, China Ventures canceled the announcement of its formation planned for June 15 and on July 24 its board voted not to consider any investments "at the present time." Further, Kissinger canceled a speech to an investment conference in Beijing sponsored by CITIC, scheduled for Oct. 2. He remains a partner in the investment group.

"The reason for these actions," Kissinger said, "was to enable me to comment free of any implication of self-interest on events in China. I have a special regard for this relationship, which I helped to establish and which has been supported by five administrations of both parties." ☐

THE MOON &

ST. LOUIS SUN

St. Louis Sun

Sept. 25, 1989

New dance club at 408 N. Euclid.

## Missing link

Look for a new dancing hotspot called **THE LINKS CLUB** to open across from Balaban's in the Central West End before New Year's Eve.

St. Louisan **MICHAEL GOESSLING**, 22, a graduate of Boston University, is reportedly looking for investors at $5,000 a shot.

The new club will be patterned after The Links Club in Boston.

Goessling's partner in the project is **ED DeHOURTY**, general manager of the Boston Links.

"This will be an alternative to all those cheesey St. Louis nightclubs which have bombed in the past." Goessling said.

## Small comfort

It's small comfort to his friends and family, but **DANIEL KERLICK**, the 35-year-old advertising executive who drowned in July at the Lake of the Ozarks, had the alcohol equivalent of only one beer in his bloodstream when he died and no trace of drugs.

Dr. **JIM JUNGELS**, Camden County coroner, received the report from the Missouri Highway Patrol.

## Toasting Clinton

This just in: Grey Eagle beer distributor **JERRY CLINTON** will be the "Toast of the Town" roastee at a Cystic Fibrosis dinner on Jan. 21.

Past recipients have included Tony's **VINCE BOMMARITO** and a double roast of Mayor **VINCE SCHOEMEHL** and County Executive **GENE MCNARY**.

# GRAPEVINE

## Name that celebrity

KEITH KLAMER

Have you seen those TV ads for Plaza Frontenac? Give yourself bonus points if you picked out some of these St. Louis celebs, among others: The Pasta House's **KIM TUCCI**; Tucci's wife and "Talent Plus" talent agency owner **SHARON LEE-TUCCI**; and Tony's **VINCE BOMMARITO**. The local folks are never identified in the commercials.

"They represent the kind of image that we want to get across for Plaza Frontenac, and if people know who they are, that's fine, if they don't, that certainly doesn't take away from the message of the commercial," explained **PAT BOWLIN**, marketing director for the shopping center.

In Tucci's ad, the pasta king says he purchased a suit at Plaza Frontenac but forgot to pick it up before leaving town on business. Supposedly, the Plaza Frontenac salesman met him at his airport gate with the suit.

The story is true, said **STEPHEN GOOD**, whose agency developed the commercial with Bowlin. But it happened to Good, not Tucci.

The 10 spots will run until December.

## Sun people are fun people!

Former Secretary of State **HENRY KISSINGER** and members of the newspaper's **KISSINGER** was in St. Louis several editorial board. On his way out, it days ago and stopped at the Sun's appears, "Dr. K." got caught up in all offices for lunch with his friend, Sun the excitement and donned the hat du Editor-in-Chief **RALPH INGERSOLL**, jour.

Block Trades

China or Bust: The talk in investment circles is that former Secretary of State Henry Kissinger is privately floating a prospectus to form a capital-investment fund somehow related to Beijing, where he plans to visit in September. A Kissinger spokeswoman in New York didn't return my call.

A 10A

DETROIT FREE PRESS/TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 7, 1990

# House brings pay raise to vote

PAY, from Page 1A

The House, which mustered a 238-88 majority

against Wright's effort to adjuncture the House and Senate, one day after the raise would have gone into effect automatically without a vote.

The outcome Monday sets up a direct vote on a resolution to reject the raise not only for lawmakers but for federal judges and more than 2,500 senior administration officials as well. After the House vote, which members believe will be against the raise, the Senate will then take up an identical resolution and, if passed, dispatch it to the White House for President George Bush's signature. He would have to sign it before midnight today to prevent the increase from going into effect automatically.

The Senate last week voted, 95-5, to reject the raise, but its resolution contained additional language on future pay raises that was not included in the House measure.

If the two chambers cannot agree on a common resolution, the deadline is March 1. If the two chambers cannot agree on a common resolution, the deadline is March 1.

MICHIGAN VOTES

WASHINGTON — (AP)

Here is how Michigan members voted Monday in the 238-88 roll call by which the House demand- ed a vote on a proposed 51- percent pay raise by rejecting a motion to adjourn until after Thursday, which would have made them reject the raise automatically.

A yes vote is a vote to

adjourn.
X denotes those not voting.
Democrat — Donor,
Carr, N; Conyers, X; Crockett,
X; Dingell, Y; Ford, Y; Hertel, N;
Klein, N; Levin, N; Trager, N;
Wolke, N;

■ Republicans — Brown-
Nellie, N; Schulte, N; Upton,
N; Vander Jagt, N.

to avoid an automatic raise would pass.

And for a while, at least, the raise
would go into effect.

Senate Majority Leader George Mitchell, D-Maine, agreed Monday with Wright to bring the House resolu-

tion on-site medical clinics that provide
both preventive and emergency ser-
vices, gymnasiums and recreation,
free pools for health and swimming,
free parking in congressional office gar-
ages and at nearby airports; a $3,000
tax deduction for expenses of living in
Washington; subcontracted hospital and
life insurance coverage; all are
among the "perils" that sputter the
incentive for serving in Congress.

By one estimate, the annual
benefits are worth $36,000 a year to
each member.

The National Taxpayers Union, a public-interest group that tracks government spending, estimated recently that the average annual compensation package — salary plus fringes — was worth about $126,000 a year.

Sen. Larry Pressler, R-Salem, an opponent of the pay raise — which would boost congressional salaries to $135,000 from $89,500 — admitted that he and other like-minded lawmakers had neglected to take纳入 account in arguing against the raise.

"That issue has not been brought up in the context of this debate," Pressler said, "but it probably should

tion to the Senate floor but could not
get any favorable votes in the
raise would go along with it. Under
Senate rule permitting unlimited de-
cline, the chamber for days. If that occurred
in this case, the resolution of disapproval
would not get to Bush in time for his
signature.

House leadership sources say, however, that given the anti-tax ani- mement there, members would vote to reject the raise automatically.

Senate Minority Leader Robert
Dole, R-Kan., predicted the Senate
would adopt the House resolution
in intact and send it to the White House in time for a vote.

"I have a feeling he will sign it," Dole said. "We need to do it by mid- time. When everybody else gets a big step
up while everybody else gets a big step
on."

Dole was referring to a constitutional provision that prohibits pay cut-backs for federal judges.
Add was asked at a Monday
afternoon news conference, "Would
you sign a bill that vetoes the pay
raise?"

He responded, "I said I support it,"
apparently affirming his support for the raise.

GM increases dividend and announces stock split

DIVIDEND, from Page 1A

Widner, it will increase the number of
600 million common shares outstanding to
GM common shares.

GM's menemen and industry analysts said such a split makes GM stock more affordable for the small investor. Individual investors also buy shares in lots of 100, and at nearly $90 a share, GM's stock was becoming too expensive for them, Lucky said.

"Cryshery has split its stock many times in the last five years," Lucky said. "And also split stock several times in recent years." "It's just to try to stimulate more widespread interest in the company."

Monday's board decision was the first time GM had split its stock since a three-for-one share in 1965, said GM spokesman Bill Winters.

The split was not aimed at preventing any shareholder from holding too much of an interest in the company, said Lucky and company spokesman.

Ford and Chrysler are much more
controlled by institutional investors. At
GM it's only about 50 percent, so GM
still has a lot more ownership in individ-
ual hands," Lucky said.

The board also increased cash dividends on GM Class E and GM Class H stocks. The values of these stocks are determined by the performance of GM's computer subsidiary Data Systems Corp. and its defense and electronics subsidiary, GM Hughes Electronics Inc., respectively.

The Class E cash dividend rose from 17 cents a share to 24 cents. The Class H dividend increased from 11 cents a share to 18 cents. These two classes of stock were not split.

All cash dividends are payable
March 10 to stockholders who hold
shares on Feb. 16. The shares from the
stock market will be issued
March 31 to those who hold shares on
Feb. 16.

GM Class E stock closed at $44.25, down $1.50, while GM Class H closed at $36.50, down 69% cents.

Jim Wright

The raise was recommended by a special committee that reviews congressional and federal employee pay every four years.
After the House vote, some members criticized Wright for failing to steer the raise through without a record vote. He botched it, said one Midwestern Democrat who asked not to be identified.

Free Press Washington Staff Writer Charles Green contributed to this report.

Congressional perks worth $36,000, group says

BY DAVID HESS

Free Press Washington Staff

WASHINGTON — There was a time when every member of Congress was entitled to a free steak dinner at the end of a week — a throwback to the days when members packed their office records for the trip home between sessions.

As many perquisites of office, this antique custom persisted long beyond its utility into the modern era until one veteran member — whose identity was not revealed — abused it. Having waived his client claims on trucks, he took 20 in one year to make up for the ones he had spurred.

Congressional elders, moored for
allowing payments to continue, revoked
the privilege in 1978.

But perquisites are still widely be-
longitudinally guarded on Cap-
titol Hill. And though they are a sizable
part of each member's annual compen-
sation, they have not been caught up in
the current controversy over Con-
gress's approach to a proposed 51-
percent pay raise.

be the perks, after all, are part of our
night to the judges we won't get a big step
up.

Take Social Security, members can participate in two taxpayer-assisted pension programs, one of which delivers a lifetime benefit that is three times more than the benefit conferred by the average private pension plan.

One plan enables members to invest up to 10 percent of their base pay in a 401(k) pension plan. Taxpayers match the first percent of members' salaries, up to $4,475 a year per member. When the new pay increase comes into effect, the subsidy will rise to $6,750 a year.

In addition, members can take part in the regular civil service pension plan, contributions of 7.5 percent of their pay to the fund. Members are eligible to receive benefits at age 60 after 20 years of service or age 60 after 10 years.

Most will receive far more in benefits than they contributed — and some, because of regular cost-of-living boosts, will actually receive more per year, a lower percentage of their earned last year as members.

SOUNOFF

Do you think the Pioneer Work and Learn program is financially wise?

Critics say money spent to operate the state's Pioneer Work and Learn Center — where young people age 14 male delinquents are sent 17 live and work in the wilderness — could be put to better use. It costs $22,000 for each campers' six-month stay — nearly twice what it would cost to enroll a teenager at an exclusive school like Cranbrook in Oakland.

Do you think the program is worth the cost?

NO. 55 PERCENT

"These goodly liberal do-gooders don't care how they waste other people's hard-earned money."

"Break down the cost and let us look at it. Teenagers are not benefitting to the tune of $22,000 each. It's the runners of the camp that are making the money."

"Maybe we should have the old-fashioned chain gang and put them to work on the roads."

YES, 45 PERCENT

"It will show them something that they have never seen before, and that's how to work. So for goodness sake, put them to work."

"This program sounds like it's far better than just putting these kids in jail."

"You don't measure the cost of
turning a human life around."

Sounoff is a non-scientist, reader-opinion feature. Percentages are based on 285 samples.

TODAY'S QUESTION

President George Bush's $50-million savings and loan bailout proposal does not call for any direct fees on depositors, but it would include an increase in deposit insurance premiums that will most likely be passed on, is part, to customers. Consumer groups four low-balance customers will be affected the most, although Sen. Don Rieger, D-Mich., called the plan "by and large a sensible proposal." (Story on Page 1A.) Do you favor Bush's bailout plan?

To vote, call before 2 p.m.
and ask for 833
No: 222-8844

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Kissinger:
Unification
'inevitable'

By Larry Eichel
Inquirer Staff Writer

Former Secretary of State Henry A. Kissinger said in Philadelphia last night that he considered the reunification of Germany "inevitable" — although not necessarily desirable.

In a speech sponsored by the World Affairs Council of Philadelphia, Kissinger predicted that a "de facto unification" would be in place in the next three or four years, even if the East German state itself does not disappear.

"There is no longer any objective basis for keeping Germany divided," he said. . . . I believe that reunification of Germany is now inevitable."

The interests of European stability, he said, demand that this unified Germany remain a non-nuclear nation — at least for the foreseeable future — with its feet firmly planted in the West.

"There is a danger in Germany becoming a loose cannon in center of Europe," he said, referring to the possibility that the Soviet Union will demand German neutrality as a condition for unification. "That produced World War I and helped produce World War II. . . . A Germany separated from other relationships would be the most dangerous country, especially toward Eastern Europe."

Kissinger's address, delivered to about 1,000 people at the Hotel Atop the Bellevue, was the highlight of the council's conference on "The Changing Face of Europe." As several speakers noted yesterday, the long-planned conference could hardly have been more fortuitously timed.

THE PHILADELPHIA INQUIRER

11/15/89

Earlier in the day, several foreign policy experts declared the Cold War over. Kissinger did not go that far. But he did compare the current moment in European history to the immediate post-World War II period.

Those were the years when the United States formulated its policy of containing Soviet expansion, formed the North Atlantic Treaty Organization to counter the Soviet threat and helped establish a new world order.

> "I genuinely believe this administration has an opportunity... of creating a new international environment, quite different from what we've known and which could last for 50 or more years," Kissinger said. In his view, that new world order will have to contain some arrangement that allows the Soviet Union to withdraw its troops from Eastern Europe without feeling that its national security has been compromised.

One possibility, he said, was for such nations as Hungary and Poland to develop relations with the Soviet Union similar to the one Finland has now.

Kissinger reserved his harshest words for the tendency in the West to give almost exclusive credit for the changes sweeping Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union to Soviet President Mikhail S. Gorbachev. He termed such tendencies "suicidal."

"If he's the only man in Russia coming to these conclusions about the deteriorating Soviet economy and the need to pare back Soviet presence in Eastern Europe, then we're in deep trouble. If I'm right, any reasonable Russian will come to more or less the same conclusions.

INTERNATIONAL HERALD TRIBUNE, THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 16, 1989

and nothing to do with "my troubles."

"It's just the union," he said.

Mr. Starkov remains in his job, but his hold reportedly is still tenuous.

## PLIGHT:

### Fear of 'Sell Out'

(Continued from page 1)

Lavor Walter Momper of West Berlin said that outsiders should not interfere with East Germany's economic changes.

"East Germany needs no patronage," he said. "The society of East Germany is strong enough to improve its economic performance."

"The citizens want self-determination and do not want to exchange the decades of Communist party tutelage for the patronage of the West German state or society."

The West German economics minister, Helmut Haussmann, offered Tuesday to help rebuild the East German economy through road-based investments and joint ventures and to update its communications and transport systems.

But he said such aid would be made available only if East Germany carried out a "thorough change" of its centrally planned economy.

The new East German prime minister, Hans Modrow, is known to favor gradual economic change and to oppose a swift transition to all democracy.

Mr. Klein categorically rejected any suggestion that West Germany wanted to impose its own type of economic system on its neighbor.

He said major economic changes were needed if East Germany expected to attract investors.

He did not say flatly that a drawn economic overhaul in East Germany was a condition for aid.

Volker Rühe, general secretary of West Germany's Christian Democratic Party, said that some measures of assistance could be offered to East Germany soon. He said these included environmental projects and a revamping of East Germany's telephone network.

But he, like Mr. Klein, said that far-reaching changes in the cur-

The left-of-center Social Democrats are urging East Germans to stay home and reform their own country. The governing conservative Christian Democrats speak more confidently of reunification, but even they say it is in the distant future.

The Greens have accused other political parties of "blustering about the unity of the fatherland," which they said was a violation of East Germany's right to self-determination. The government, the Greens said, "is aimed at turning East Germany into a subsidiary branch of West Germany."

Chancellor Helmut Kohl "will of course say he's for unification, but everyone knows that's just talk," said a taxi driver in Bonn. "He most of all does not want it, because the East Germans would all be votes for the Social Democrats. He'd be out of office immediately."

Students at the Beuel school seemed stirred by the drama of the events in Berlin — many plan weekend trips there — but they

East Germany until three weeks before the wall was built in 1961. "Something terrible happened 50 years ago, and if we reunite it could happen again.

"A lot of Germans, especially the older ones, still think of themselves as the greatest people in the world, and something very bad could happen if they had the power to try to prove that again."

The students were cheered by the prospect of free travel and free elections in the East.

"I want East Germany to be free and independent, both of West Germany and of the Russians," Jens Houtrouw said. "But my grandfather says the most important thing is to reunify. His home was in Poland before the war and he wants to go back, but he wants it to be part of Germany when he goes, like it was once. To me, that doesn't make sense. My home is Bonn and that's it. I don't feel like anywhere else is my nation."

A few students suggested turning Germany into a neutral zone sepa-

"Look at the Republicans," he said, referring to the rightist party that won votes of up to 17 percent in recent local elections. "If they got control they wouldn't be satisfied to be neutral."

In recent years, surveys have found German teenagers divided. Adolescents of less-affluent families often complain that they are taught too much in school about World War II and the Holocaust; they report feeling deprived of the right to feel proud of their nation.

More affluent teenagers, however, have often expressed deep cynicism toward politicians and have rejected a more independent future for West Germany, fearing the rise of nationalism and anti-foreign sentiment.

The opening of the wall has glued many German students to television. Asked how the recent developments would affect them personally, however, few came up with an answer. "Perhaps I won't have to go into military service," one said.

## Kissinger Sees One Germany Within Years

The Associated Press

PHILADELPHIA — Economic and political forces inevitably will reunify Germany in the next few years, even if the governments remain separate, former Secretary of State Henry A. Kissinger says.

Mr. Kissinger, speaking Tuesday to the World Affairs Council of Philadelphia, also predicted fundamental change in the relationships among the Soviet Union, the United States and Europe.

But he said that too much credit for the changes in Hungary, Poland and especially East Germany had been given to Mikhail S. Gorbachev.

"When leaders of Western nations don't know what to say about the changes in Eastern Europe, they praise Gorbachev," Mr. Kissinger said.

## WALES: More American Aid

(Continued from page 1)

a partner and friend, Reuters reported.

Mr. Walesa seemed deeply moved at a standing, introductory ovation, raising his arms and flashing "V" for victory signs usually reserved for heads of state and American heroes.

"To speak to citizens of the country and the continent whose threshold is guarded by the famous Statue of Liberty," he said, "it is for me an honor so great, a moment so solemn, that I can find nothing to compare it with."

Telling of Poland's struggles to emerge from the devastation of World War II, he recalled that Stalin barred his country from using aid from the Marshall Plan, the U.S. program that helped rebuild Europe.

"It is worth recalling this great American plan which helped Western Europe to protect its freedom and peaceful order," Mr. Walesa said of the aid program named for the postwar U.S. secretary of state

who devised it, George C. Marshall.

"And now it is the moment when Eastern Europe awaits an investment of this kind — an investment in freedom, democracy and peace — an investment adequate to the greatness of the American nation," he said.

The Senate approved a $738 million aid plan for Poland and Hungary on Tuesday night. The plan was almost $300 million more than President George Bush sought and an amount that must be reconciled with an $840 million plan drawn up by the House.

This summer, Mr. Walesa had proposed to Mr. Bush that the West provide a $10 billion package of economic assistance to help Poland with its economy and foreign debt.

In his speech, Mr. Walesa stressed that Poland's economic problems were not isolated and said communist polices had failed all over the world.

Geopolitics
'Us

Twelve Years After Leaving Office, Henry Kissinger
Remains a Big Name, and That Has Helped
Make His Consulting Firm Very Successful.
Why Is His Name Still Magic After All These Years?

By Martin Schram

The August heat was oppressive, and as the limousine pulled up to the curbside on Park Avenue, Lawrence S. Eagleburger was grateful that it was only a few steps from the cool of the skyscraper to the car.

As the former Undersecretary of State settled his ampleness into the back seat, he noticed that all the windows of the limo were open.

"Sir, I'm terribly sorry," the driver announced, "but the air conditioner is busted and it's going to be a very hot ride. I hope you don't mind."

Eagleburger, ever the diplomat, replied: "I don't mind. But we're going to be picking up a fellow who may mind a great deal. His name is Henry Kissinger."

At that, a slight rumble commenced beneath the dashboard, followed by a shudder, and finally a gentle hum. Suddenly the air conditioner was functioning flawlessly.

Once again, Kissinger Associates was off and riding in the style to which it has become accustomed.

*Henry Kissinger.* The name retains its magic twelve years after the man left public office. It is a name that transcends even the prominent titles—National Security Adviser, Secretary of State—that have preceded it.

He remains one of the most recognized public figures in the world—a superstar. When he walks down the street in midtown Manhattan, where people are nothing if not blasé, Henry Kissinger sparks the sort of murmuring and neck-craning and autograph-seeking that Dean Rusk, William Rogers, Cyrus Vance, Edmund Muskie, Al Haig, George Shultz, and James Baker will never know. In board rooms and Cabinet rooms and palaces around the globe, Kissinger's presence is more requested and his advice more avidly sought than Gerald Ford's or Jimmy Carter's or Ronald Reagan's ever will be.

Henry Kissinger would have it no other way.

Henry Kissinger pops up in all sorts of places—conversing in Beijing, partying at David Brinkley's, analyzing on CBS, extemporizing at Republican fundraisers, consulting at Shearson Lehman. He moves around the world from his base of operations, Kissinger Associates, a consulting firm that caters geopolitical and economic advice to the

PHOTOGRAPHS BY WILLIAM COUPON

February 1989/The Washingtonian 111

world's corporate elite. His firm is made up primarily of former government officials.

The whirling of the revolving door is a quad-
rennial rite in Washington. Dozens of the most
prominent shapers of US international policy
have gone on to represent or consult for interna-
tional corporations and even foreign govern-
ments. Their names read like a Who Was Who
of Washington: former Vice President Walter
Mondale, former CIA directors Richard Helms

MARY NOBLE QUINS

Brent Scowcroft,
Kissinger's deputy on the
National Security Council
and his successor as
National Security Adviser
under President Ford,
helped found Kissinger
Associates in 1982. He
ran its Washington office
until returning to the
White House as National
Security Adviser to
President Bush.

and William Colby, former Secretary of De-
fense and Attorney General Elliot Richardson,
former National Security Adviser Richard Al-
len, former Special Trade Representative Rob-
ert Strauss, and so on.

Most ply their trade as Washington lawyers, a
group whose work often has little to do with
what lawyers learn in law school or what they do
anywhere else. Kissinger Associates has no law-
yers at all—and it doesn't do much of what its
competitors do, such as lobbying or represent-
ing foreign governments. But it is a superstar in
the international consulting business.

Kissinger's two principal associates have just
spun once more through Washington's revolv-
ing doors to return to positions of power inside
the government.

Larry Eagleburger, president of Kissinger Associates for the last four years, served on the National Security Council staff and at State under Kissinger, was ambassador to Yugoslavia under President Carter and Undersecretary of State in President Reagan's first term, and is now Bush's nominee for Deputy Secretary of State.

And Brent Scowcroft, who was President
Nixon's military aide and President Ford's na-
tional-security adviser, is returning to that post
under President Bush.

The remaining Kissinger Associates are:

* Alan Stoga, an unsung associate who never made the front page while serving in Treasury Department staff jobs during the Ford and Carter years, but whose value is underscored by the fact that he is the only economist in the Kissinger firm.

* Jeffrey Cunningham, a former banker who serves as vice chairman of Kissinger Associates.

* William Sittman, a former assistant to Michael Deaver—first in the Reagan White House and later with the Washington lobbying firm that made Deaver more famous than he ever wanted to be—who now handles Kissinger's press relations.

Scowcroft operated out of Kissinger Associates' Washington office; the rest work out of New York. The support staff in both offices totals just 27.

To get to Kissinger Associates—in either New
York or Washington—visitors must go, appro-
priately, through a revolving door. But because
of security precautions adopted by Kissinger,
that is easier said than done.

The phone and address for the New York office are listed in information. But once inside the skyscraper at 350 Park Avenue, there is nothing to tell you that you are in the house of Kissinger. The computerized directory in the lobby is no help; push ‘‘K’’ and you get only KME Management, KL Associates, Kelso Investment Associates, and Kelso and Company.

Even if you've been directed to the appropri-
ate floor, you step out of the elevator into a
generic reception area: console with reception-
ist, coffee table with magazines, couch with
cushions, wall with art. Nowhere is a sign to be
seen suggesting that you've found Kissinger As-
sociates, much less a logo proclaiming "Geo-
politics R Us."

The Washington operation is even more hush-hush. The phone number is unlisted, so the address is, too. If you know to go to the appropriate building, on the corner of 18th and K streets, Northwest, you'll again find no Kissinger on the lobby directory.

If you then know to take the elevator to the
right floor, you'll find yourself in an ordinary
office corridor. All the doors are clearly let-
tered—but none says Kissinger. Down the corri-
dor and around the bend and all the way to the
end is the only door that has no company letter-
ing at all. Next to it is a tan wall phone with no
dial. Pick it up and announce yourself and, if
you have an appointment, you will be admitted
to the offices of Kissinger Associates.

There, during the Reagan-Bush transition,
was Brent Scowcroft, a polite, soft-spoken man
whose demeanor would never get him cast as an
Air Force lieutenant general—never mind that
he played the role in real life.

How, he was asked, does Kissinger Associates go about getting clients?

"We've not done any merchandising," Scowcroft replied. "By and large, people have come to us."

112 *The Washingtonian*/February 1989

Well, how do they get here? They can't look
you up in the phone book.

"It's not very hard to get in touch with either
Henry or me or Larry. People who want to,
can."

And if a client can't figure out how to get in
touch with you?

Scrowcroft laughed. "Then we can't help
him!"

Enough CEOs figure out how to get in touch.
Henry Kissinger has stamped "Top Secret" on
most things about his business—the names of his
clients, the fees they pay, and the advice they
receive—but his firm's client list includes such
corporate giants as Shearson Lehman/American
Express, Anheuser-Busch, ITT, H.J. Heinz,
Arco, Fiat, Volvo, and Midland Bank of Brit-
ain, among others.

Shearson Lehman was paying Kissinger Associates an annual fee of $420,000 in 1986, according to an article that year by Leslie H. Gelb in the *New York Times* magazine. For its money, the investment company gets about four lunch-eon and dinner speeches by Kissinger and ad-hoc advice from him and his associates as need-ed. Other firms pay in the $150,000 range for fewer appearances by the celebrated proprietor and his assemblage of experts.

It is fitting that one of the first reports about
Kissinger Associates was written by Gelb, who
served as a top State Department official during
the Carter years, when the government was
unadorned by Kissinger or his associates. Gelb
subsequently passed back through the revolving
door to resume gathering all the news that's fit to
print.

Kissinger started Kissinger Associates in
1982 with loans of $80,000 from each of four
investment banks, including E.M. Warburg,
Pincus & Company, and Goldman Sachs. The
loans were made for five years; the firm did so
well that Kissinger paid them off in two. Today,
Kissinger Associates has about 30 clients and
annual revenues of more than $5 million.

The firm is not Kissinger's only source of
income. He also makes money from the newspa-
per column he writes for the Los Angeles Times
Syndicate and from his lecturing. He makes
about twenty speeches a year, for which he is
paid about $20,000 a speech. He gives another
twenty or so speeches for free, including ad-
dresses to the Foreign Affairs Council and, last
year, talks at Bush/Quayle campaign fund-rais-
ing events.

He also gets paid for serving as counselor to
the Chase Manhattan Bank, as chairman of the
international advisory board of the American
International [Insurance] Group, and on the
boards of directors of American Express, Union
Pacific, R.H. Macy, and Continental Grain.

It adds up to big money for a former professor
who made his reputation first in academia as an
expert on the relationship between nuclear
weapons and foreign policy, and then in govern-
ment as a maker of global policy.

But money isn't everything. Kissinger is also a
trustee of the Rockefeller Brothers Fund, the
Metropolitan Museum of Art, and the Center for

Strategic and International Studies, and he is a
director of the International Rescue Committee.

Kissinger Associates' own board of directors
knows its way around the international, corpo-
rate, and political worlds that he has helped to
shape. Among the directors: former Treasury
Secretary William E. Simon; former Undersec-
retary of State William D. Rogers; former Japa-
nese Foreign Minister Saburo Okita; Volvo's
chief executive officer, Pehr Gyllenhammar;

former chairman of the Bank of East Asia Sir Y.
K. Kan; former Atlantic Richfield chairman
Robert O. Anderson; Citibank's former execu-
tive-committee chairman, Edward L. Palmer;
and Lord Roll, chairman of S.G. Warburg &
Company, one of the firm's initial bankrollers.

As in the old days, an interview with Henry
Kissinger starts off with a bit of gamesmanship.
When he was in the West Wing and at State,
interviews and briefings invariably began with a
statement by Kissinger—or by White House
spokesman Ron Ziegler, with Kissinger at his
side—that Kissinger's comments could be at-
tributed only to "a senior administration offi-
cial." Sometimes this was silly—as when there
were 200 journalists in the room, including rep-
resentatives of the foreign press. If anyone was
going to be fooled, it was American readers, not
the Kremlin or other foreign governments, who
knew very well that it was Kissinger speaking.
But the ground rules were firm, and journalists
could either play by them or pass.

Today, after a bit of small talk, Kissinger says
he would like to review the quotes to be used in

Lawrence Eagleburger,
who served under
Kissinger in the White
House and Foggy Bottom,
became president of
Kissinger Associates after
a tour as Undersecretary
of State in President
Reagan's first term.
After four years of
consulting on geopolitics
for Fortune 500
companies, he was
tapped by Bush to
be Deputy Secretary
of State.

the article prior to publication. I simmer, and
decline.

"I have made this same request of the Washington Post and New York Times," Kissinger confides, "and they always say they never do it, but they do." I reiterate, in a jovial way, that I don't. Finally, we agree that there will be no clearing of quotes, but—as a courtesy—I'll be happy to let him know what he is being quoted as saying once the article is ready to go to press. So the ground rules are set. It has all been very cordial, but I am happy that we don't have to negotiate the shape of the table.

It is always fun to interview Kissinger, in part because he is so engaging and in part because he is so easy to tweak. Suggest, for example, that Kissinger's celebrity status might result from his having served as Secretary of State through such fascinating and tumultuous times.

"It can't be only that," Kissinger earnestly interjects. "I've been out of office for twelve years. So I must have done something on my own. That's how I look at it, anyway."

At the observation that ex-Presidents of the United States create less commotion when they appear in public, Kissinger nods matter-of-factly: "I have no idea why, but it's interesting. When I speak at campuses I draw a lot of students—the younger generation, who cannot remember exactly what I might have done. ... When I'm abroad, I see foreign leaders. ... You know, that's clearly not compulsory [on their part]. I mean, I can do very little for them."

Corporate clients who pay Kissinger Associates top dollar are offered a package of services that begins with a tour of the horizon. Just before leaving the firm, Scowcroft described the process: "We descend on a client from various corners of the globe."

Kissinger, Scowcroft, and Eagleburger would divide up the world, giving clients an overview and a region-by-region analysis. Matters of international finance were (and are) handled by "Stoga, the economist," as Kissinger, Eagleburger, and Scrowcroft always refer to him, as though they were talking about their associate, "Zorba, the Greek."

Kissinger Associates comes by its business in various ways. Consider three fairly benign cases, details for which were provided by Eagleburger.

**ITT and China:** The top executives of ITT decided that they wanted to hold their next board of directors meeting in China. Eagleburger, a member of the ITT board, steered the business to Kissinger. "Henry's done some consulting and advising for businesses interested in China—he's very careful not ever to discuss the subject with the Chinese government," says Eagleburger. Holding an American corporate board meeting in China is not easy. Among other things, the firm must first have a host in China.

"We came to Henry and said, 'Look, what's the best way to do this?'" Eagleburger recalls. "And he came up with some ideas on how best to arrange the board meeting, saying, 'This is

ought to set it up.'"

**The Oil Company and the Arabs:** Executives of a major US oil company that had engaged mainly in domestic production discovered a large oil field in the Middle East. The company sought advice on how to deal with officials of the Arab country from Texas oilman William Clements, who is now governor of Texas.

Clements had gotten to know Eagleburger when both served in the Nixon and Ford administrations. (Clements was Deputy Secretary of Defense.) When the oil company contacted Clements, he gave Eagleburger a call—and Kissinger Associates had a new client.

The consultants' advice to the company: "Don't get yourself in the situation so many other oil companies have—a conflict or fight with the host government," Eagleburger recalls. "The world has changed and you've got to realize it's their oil and deal with them on those terms." The company followed the advice and has done very well, Eagleburger says.

**The Beverage Company and the Europeans:**

A large American corporation decided to venture abroad and came to Kissinger Associates for advice on which countries to look at first, how to get the best legal representation there, and so on. What they got from Kissinger Associates was background on how to develop their international strategy. Among the advice: Consider Europe in 1992 as a single market—your company has to be doing business somewhere within that market by then if it is going to deal within the European community thereafter.

There is one other aspect to what Kissinger Associates does for clients. It is deal-making. "It happens rarely," says Kissinger. But in a few instances, Kissinger has put a client in touch with a company in another country so they could work out a joint venture. For that, Kissinger Associates gets an additional fee.

The advice Kissinger Associates dispenses to its clients is always given in person—and always orally. The firm puts nothing in writing; that is company policy. "We don't want to see it[Xe]roxed and passed around," explained Scowcroft. "And [when you commit foreign-policy analysis and advice to paper] you end up spending an awful lot of time on machining the product—getting the language just right and so forth. So we find it works better. And we have better rapport with the top managers, who want to hear it for themselves."

When a corporation signs up with Kissinger Associates, what the board chairmen and CEOs are buying, along with the advice and analysis, is the persona and presence of Henry Kissinger.

Kissinger does not simply enter a room, he arrives—whether it's in the board rooms of Shearson Lehman or ITT, the Elysée Palace in Paris, or the Great Hall of the People in Beijing.

He arrives with entourage: He travels with several bodyguards, whose presence is made necessary by the death threats he still receives. "I tell you there are periodic threats that I get from our governmental intelligence sources,"

*Continued on page 271*

114 *The Washingtonian/February 1989*

# Former CIA Director William Colby
Why He Draws a Thinner Line

It is mid-morning and William Colby, the former director of the Central Intelligence Agency, is leaving the Eastern Shuttle terminal at LaGuardia Airport, heading out into the cold.

"What did you say your article is about?" he asks a reporter who is on the same plane. Seconds later he smiles—and winces—at the realization that he has just been in one of those perfect moments of real-life theater; as soon as the spinning doors deposited them outside, the reporter gestured over his shoulder and replied: "Revolving doors."

In the dozen years since he went from government to private enterprise, William Colby has, like Henry Kissinger, made his living as an international consultant.

But Colby—the man who preceded George Bush as director of the CIA—has taken a different tack from Kissinger's. He is one of many former top officials in the foreign-policy arena who earn their livelihoods by consulting with foreign governments and firms as well as with US companies.

Colby, now with the Washington law firm Donovan Leisure Newton & Irvine, has registered as a foreign agent because he has consulted with the South Korean government and the Monetary Authority of Singapore, as well as with Japanese firms. Kissinger says that he doesn't advise foreign governments for pay and that he would do nothing that would require him to register as a foreign agent; he does not think it is a fitting posture for a former top policymaker of the United States government.

"What I have done is advise people on what's going on in Washington—the way policy works and how economic policy is determined by politics," says Colby. "And when those have involved foreigners, I've registered as a foreign agent."

Colby says that he does not lobby American officials in behalf of either foreign or domestic interests. "I don't have anything against it," he says. "I just don't do it." Although he limits his

role to consulting, he says, he registers as a foreign agent as a precaution.

"It's an ambiguous statute," he says of the 1938 Foreign Agents Registration Act. "It was basically designed to cover foreigners exerting influence through Americans and force the Americans to

register for doing that. But there is a phrase in the statute that says 'political consultants.' So even if you're not urging people [in the US government] to do anything, if you're consulting with a foreigner, then I think you're included under the statute.

"I just decided a long time ago to lean forward on the foreign-agent thing—go ahead and register. I don't want to be in court as the subject of a case on this. So I register and that's the end of it. No problems."

Colby says the consulting he does for foreign governments and firms does not involve matters of military or national security, nor the use of classified material or knowledge.

"I have not read a classified document since I left office," he says. "I canceled all my clearances the day I left."

After a moment's reflection, he noted that perhaps he had read some classified

documents for a war game he participated in with the Joint Chiefs of Staff last year.

"What I'm doing is the analytical function—what I did for years. But it's not based on any secret information. It's the process—the underlying political, economic, sociological, demographic trends—and putting them into an assessment of what's going to happen in the future."

On what matters, for example, did the former CIA chief advise the government of South Korea?

"Primarily economic policy," he says. "Commenting on why the Americans were doing certain things. . . . What is the politics of American economic policy? What are the politics of the budget . . . the trade act . . . some of the other economic questions? I was working with the economic authority—that was the orientation."

Colby was in New York on this day to consult with an American company that does considerable business abroad.

"I'll start out analyzing what Gorbachev's moves mean in terms of the relationship between East and West, and what effect that will have on defense budgets and all the rest of it. Then I'll go along and talk about developments in China—whether that's a good thing—and various other countries.

"There are a number of countries I wouldn't want to represent," he says. "I wouldn't represent South Africa. I don't think I'd represent the Communist world—I don't agree with their philosophies—or some of the more egregious dictators."

A former director of US intelligence has a special obligation to his former workplace, Colby believes. "I get people coming to me all the time with different ideas and projects, some of which have real intelligence applications. I usually just send them over to the Agency and say, 'If you're interested in this, go ahead. Get in touch with the people. Leave me out of it.'

"I try to call attention to them—and I don't get paid for that."

Former CIA-director-turned-foreign-consultant William Colby: "What I'm doing now is the analytical function—what I did for years. But it's not based on any secret information."

February 1989/The Washingtonian 115

## T BRIEFS

Australia Pledge
on Trade

Australia — The
U.S. Australia, which
supplies in the past
subsidies, this
will form a united
it policies that
trade.

U.S. the Cairns
far-farm-exporting
battled to
subsidies granted
States and Europe to
compete on

bitterly
U.S. policies were
and sugar exports
limiting irritants
trade.
strongly supportive
position calling
of export subsidies
and domestic
trades within a decade.

Firm Hikes
Donuts Stake

DD Acquisition
Friday it had received
common shares of
Inc. by Nov. 1,
1.8% its share of the

owned by Cara
D. and Unicorp.
aid its tender offer
ended until Nov. 20.
Donuts has set Friday
e for the receipt of
bids.

cluding shares issued
employee stock
on, which is the
gation, it has a total
outstanding Dunkin'
1% fully diluted.

US Urged to Resume Dialogue

Journal of Commerce

November 7, 1989

# Kissinger Expects China To Ease Stringent Rules

By GARY ADERMAN

Journal of Commerce Special

HONG KONG — Current hard-line Chinese policies will be eased and the open-door economic program will continue, former Secretary of State Henry Kissinger forecast Monday.

Ties between the United States and China also will play a key role in future contacts between America and Vietnam, whose active solicitation of Western trade and aid has attracted the interest of U.S. business, he said.

"Without confrontation, Chinese good sense plus the stated objectives of the most important leaders will return it to the course of decentralization," Mr. Kissinger told a conference on Asia-Pacific economic trends.

In recent months, the liberaliz-
ers' policy of cutting central gov-
ernment control in favor of greater
autonomy for provinces and cities

has fallen out of favor in Beijing,
blamed for triggering inflation and
scarcity of goods.

"If (China) chooses the route of modernization, it will have to implement what it has stated as its own conviction — the idea of decentralization, of greater emphasis on markets, of greater responsibility to (private) enterprises and more education for its citizens," Mr. Kissinger said.

He qualified his remarks by noting China's unpredictability. "So far as I know, very few China-watchers predicted any of the events since I first got to know China in 1971."

Mr. Kissinger, who was central to America's re-establishment of ties with China during the Nixon administration, urged Washington to maintain its links, despite anger over the treatment of pro-democracy demonstrators.

"If America cuts itself off from

China, it will affect all our relationships in Asia. We have a right to hope that China will also be sensitive to fundamental American convictions, and not do things deceptively offensive to the American public.

"But it is imperative, in my view, that a dialogue resume on the basis of mutual respect. The future of Asia has throughout history and will in the future depend on a respected role for China. This depends in part on its own performance and in part on the attitudes of outside countries."

Mr. Kissinger counseled against a rush by the United States to restore ties with Vietnam. That could upset China anew, he suggested.

"I would be very careful during a period of tension with Beijing to engage in acts that may appear as if we are attempting to encircle it."

Vietnam is actively soliciting trade with the West.

# Production Complicates Origin Rules

By ROSALIND RACHID

Journal of Commerce Staff

NEW YORK — The questions fell insistently on the standing-room-only audience, but no one volunteered an answer.

John B. Pellegrini, partner in the New York office of the law firm Ross & Hardies, was the interögator.

"Potatoes grown in Canada are made into french fries in the United States. Are the fries of Canadian or U.S. origin?"

Then this one: The European

sored by the American Association of Exporters and Importers, went home without an answer to these questions.

Instead, they took with them a set of guidelines to help determine such answers in one of the latest intrigues in the game of international trade.

"The main criterion is substantial transformation. Processing that creates a new article must be substantial," Mr. Pellegrini said.

in the production of goods for export.

Such streamlining, however, has complicated the application of rules that determine country of origin of products, and has provoked a number of challenges to origin determinations made by individual countries.

"Where the import is the product of a single country, the determination presents no difficulty," says a Ross & Hardies memorandum to its clients.

"However, where the imported

censing or visa requirements.

The 96 signatories to the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade, which makes the rules for most of the world's trade, are now looking at ways to harmonize origin rules.

The objective, says the U.S. harmonization proposal submitted to GATT in September, is to increase "certainty and predictability in the international trading system, and (eliminate) the potential for rules of origin to serve as a non-tariff measure to trade."

"There is cautious optimism

Japan, South K
Expected to F
On Far East T

By GARY ADERMAN

Journal of Commerce Special

HONG KONG — Representa-
tives of two countries assailed as
protectionist by the United States
called Monday for free and open
trade relationships — but princi-
pally, it seems, within the Far
East.

Speakers at a regional trade and economic conference from Japan and South Korea said unimpaired trade would benefit rapidly growing intra-Asian commerce. It should exceed Asia-U.S. trade by the year 2000.

The pair also said China, cur-
rently a pariah because of the mas-
sacre of pro-democracy marchers
last June, is an important element
in the regional economy and cannot
be overlooked.

Shigeo Muraoka, special adviser to Japan's Ministry of International Trade and Industry, said trade cooperation among Asian countries

should be char-
ness.

"Asia-Pacific
not be aimed
nomic bloc," he

"Openness
an economy
mies in the As-
and must rec
tries outside t

Japan intei-
ment in othe-
more than in
Muraoka told
merce. "The
crease in the
er countries
terview.

The reas-
value of Ja-
forced the
c to produce
areas like T
the Philippine

While pr
United Sta-
Japan, they
Southeast A

Japan's
now split ev
North Amer-
taled US$
against US$
probably w
year, Mr. M

Next y
US$75 bil
age of whi
said, decli
Kim Di

Kim Di
and for
South Kor
too, comp
ism in his

"The ti-
ment and
in the Uni-

from her face. "Malcolm uses people for props. He throws them to the wolves. Anyone who was in New Jersey with the 2,000 *Forbes* advertisers should have known better." She raised her camera.

"Please don't take my picture," said the other. "I don't want anyone to know I was here." They laughed, though this was not the first time that joke had been heard this weekend among a certain segment. And then one did take the other's picture, because it meant something to be all together here in Tangier.

M EANWHILE, ACROSS THE CASBAH, IN THE Palais Mendoub, the smiling, defiant, mysterious Malcolm Forbes stayed far from the guests who served his purpose. He had no clue he was in trouble. He was encased in the fabulous, imprisoned by the borrowed fame of Elizabeth Taylor. He was the invisible host, as in the fairy tale when the traveler stumbles into a castle and the feast has already been set out by unseen hands but no one is there. Past the motorcycles at the palace entrance, the 117,000 toy soldiers, Forbes the collector stayed surrounded by all those things a boy of six falls in love with but never quite gets to his satisfaction. Here at last was the big birthday party with stamping ponies and balloons and real soldiers firing guns outside a palace. Here, finally, was the ultimate childish fantasy—power over all-powerful grown-ups, having them lined up and waiting, like the toy soldiers of a grand diorama. Last night's scene outside the Palais Mendoub, with Henry Kravis and Gianni Agnelli and Mr. General Motors all waiting on line, was exactly like the "Land of Counterpane" diorama in the Forbes Galleries, where a child regards the tiny tin worlds laid out on his blanket.

Already, in the press room by the hotel pool, pieces were

being written. The fire storm and public scolding had begun. DOWNFALL OF THE PARTY SMARTIES. THE TANGIER TUSSLE. There would be long, loving "party of the century" chronicles and enraged screeds. And before them all marched Liz Smith. There were many, many moments of worldwide prime-time air, of wiggling, hooting Moroccans and happy guests, commentators to talk of Aristotle and the golden mean. There were bitter clichés like "wretched excess," opposed by John Kenneth Galbraith's NOTHING SUCCEEDS LIKE EXCESS. And Michael M. Thomas's reminder that "the point of wealth is to make life go like clockwork." And the final wave of fury—that Forbes would deduct this $2-million party as a business expense, which he did not do. When, many weeks later, Malcolm Forbes's curator brought him the complete tonnage of articles and TV clips, he was astounded. It was more than he had dreamed and somehow very different.

He, from old Scottish stock, had become part of the very world of excess that his magazine judged. He had given parties before, but this—this put him in with these new spenders. He was part of these parties that stir such heat and protest and catalogued lists of every bloom, yard of material, and number of sacrificed carcasses. And why? Because these are the works of art of the late eighties. These are the pyramids of New Society. For some women, parties are their only form of artistic expression and the urgent, burning love they feel for their husbands. They're the very culmination of all those minor arts they studied rather late in life—flowers, food, people arrangement, spectacle, decoration, tent design, lighting, dress and jewelry selection. There are milestones to be marked—Prince Thurn und Taxis turns 60, Lord Glenconner turns 60, Saul Steinberg turns 50, John Gutfreund turns 60. All these large fantasy parties are rather mad versions of the birthday parties they either had or, more to the point, never had in childhood. They are masterpieces of the art of hostessing, finding the craftsmen to

## MOGUL ANTENNAE IN ACTION

Clockwise from left: Henry Kissinger, Mortimer Zuckerman, Diane Von Furstenberg, Dick Snyder, and Leighton Candler on the plane; Jim Robinson of American Express in his fez; Jerome Zipkin and Calvin Klein; Barry Diller and Kelly Klein comparing sports injuries.

32 NEW YORK/OCTOBER 2, 1989

Photographs: top right, bottom left, and bottom right, Sonia Moskowitz; bottom center, Victor Malafronte/Celebrity Photo.

T H A T P A R T Y

create a whole other century and country—say, seventeenth-century Flanders—in a tent on a dune in Quogue. “Old Masters in a Tent”? Gayfryd Steinberg was painting her masterpiece just like Holbein or Breugel, only without a brush.

Forbes had no such needs. For Forbes, it was business. True, it had the richly dramatic tone that is the essence of Malcolm Forbes, prone at all times to bagpipers wheezing over the hills of New Jersey, through the burled-wood innards and up the ladders of his boat, *The Highlander*. Nor were Forbes and his magazine the only ones serving their needs. The “props” got the press they pretended to shun, the advertisers got their adventure and stories to take home to the boardrooms of Denver, the kingdom of Morocco got its exposure, the photographers their shots, and the writers their stories.

I'M GOING TO DIE SITTING BACK HERE WITH MY LEGS. This has got to be the worst seat on the plane," Donald Marron, the head of PaineWebber, said to Catie Marron as he lowered himself to the bulkhead seat.

Betsy Bloomingdale took small, tentative steps to the rear, as though there had been some mistake.

"I was just wondering, does this 747 have an upstairs," she said to the steward brightly, brightly, her eyes wide, "because it is my *favorite* place to sit, and are *all* those seats taken?" Over her words, the plane played a recording of "The Emperor's Nightingale," as if to warn and promise that this was going to be a fairy tale.

"Arnold Scaasi got it right," Dick Snyder, the head of Simon & Schuster, said to Mort Zuckerman and Diane Von Furstenberg. "He called up and said he only goes first-class, so he's up front."

"No good deed goes unrewarded," said Snyder, who had gone up front to return Gayfryd Steinberg's copy of Tom Clancy and found himself two empty first-class seats.

"Eppie, the governor of Rhode Island," said a voice. "Governor, Eppie Lederer—Ann Landers."

Jerome Zipkin and Rick Smith, the editor-in-chief of *Newsweek*, inclined toward each other, discussing Zipkin's first editions of Somerset Maugham.

"It's like a school bus," said Leonard Stern.

"I see you're into the papers," Gayfryd Steinberg said to Catie Marron, sitting down next to her. Gayfryd's dark head with its gelled black DA, sleek as a seal, leaned toward the blonde head of Catie Marron for girlish murmuring. Now there was much aisle traveling and seat perching.

"I'm taking pictures of people while they still look good," Arnold Scaasi told Liz Smith. Onscreen, disregarded, was Morocco in travelogue—falcons, souks, mosaics, mosques, tea men pouring sweet mint tea into glasses, pointed arches, carpets unrolling.

"She used to love the belly dancers ... rip their scarves off," said a voice.

"I'm looking for my fellow governor," said Tom Kean of New Jersey. "Very much missed," said Zipkin to Diane Von Furstenberg as the James Bond movie that uses Malcolm's toy-soldier museum at the Palais Mendoub was shown. "Four years, eleven months," Henry Kissinger said to Mort Zuckerman. "She's they-ah," said Zipkin, who had unknotted and folded his tie with the insouciant elegance he religiously maintained throughout the weekend. "He was being faithful to the president," Henry Kissinger said. A woman hooted at something and received a baleful Zipkin stare.

"They cut away society's dead flesh," said the movie.

"Who's that?" said Katharine Graham, looking at Diane Von Furstenberg, who had taken her picture with Allen Neuharth.

It was night in Tangier, which the guidebooks called “the decadent playground” and the world’s most famous gay center, mentioning its brothels and pedophiles, its “capacity for slight craziness” and how in the old, debauched Tangier, Barbara Hutton would give the natives her silk underwear after wearing it once. It was always a place to hide, a place for remittance men, those exiles living on money from elsewhere. Paul and Jane Bowles, Truman Capote, Cecil Beaton all lived here. The very Casbah is here, trance musicians, snake charmers, deposed monarchs in ruined gardens. This is the place where William Burroughs wrote *The Naked Lunch* and Tennessee Williams wrote *Suddenly Last Summer*, the city that Samuel Pepys called “an exorcifice of the Earth.”

Its own King Hassan was said to hate Tangier and feel its danger. It had alleys full of sin, drugs, lost souls in dark stupors, absinthe in the Café Detroit, Hemingway in Dean's Bar, Errol Flynn. Dry and desperate dawns and a history of great parties. All in all, not a totally inappropriate selection of site.

GAYFRYD'S MAD LITTLE foot went tap-tap-tapping as Arnold Scaasi screamed for the luggage in really rather good French.

Walter Cronkite.

THE PLANE LANDED TO THE WHITE HAZE OF television lights. Down the ramp came the lizard-lidded New Yorkers—the blazered tycoons, tycoonettes, and their press, Gayfryd in her brave little hopeful straw boater, the big rich men, unnecessary passports in hand, whose red and yellow pants flapped around their ankles, and their wives, all of whom clutched their wicker picnic hampers from Le Cirque, which the New York group had long ago abandoned in ruins on the plane. Out beyond this white circle of light came shrieks and the very first lineup of moaning, groaning, wiggling, stomping, chanting, jangling, clapping Moroccans, ululating with joy. The dark throats open. Women with silver coins jiggling on their foreheads were throwing rose petals, men were beating goatskin drums called bendirs, which signify the bond between this world and the next, the living and the dead. Down the ramp Forbes's guests came, into air that was a different form of hot—pleasant and soft on the skin. The faces, too, were different, dark with European features, and those long brown fingers pounding and banging—ordered to bang.

"This is our first continent," said Donald Marron from the back of the Sahara Tours bus. At one point, the whole bus grew silent, as though it had occurred to everyone at once just how different these flat-roofed white stone houses were, the very shape of the trees, the people walking on the roads at night, the faces staring out from deep inside the hoods. This was a kingdom in North Africa with a king whose wife was veiled and secluded for life. No man had ever seen her. No photograph had ever been published, her name never mentioned in the paper. The buses were escorted by motorcycle outriders, traffic was held up in the city, and everything stopped, like Donald Trump going through Atlantic City on a fight night. The Hotel Solazur

Photograph by Mario Suriani/Photoreporters.

OCTOBER 2, 1989/NEW YORK

33

Under heavy scrutiny from nearby floating tycoons, Carolyne Roehm and Gayfryd Steinberg take to the pool at the Hotel Solazur.

was cordoned off, the cafés on the beach across the street forced to close for the duration.

"More happy tribesmen spontaneously greeting us," drawled the patrician voice of Archibald Roosevelt from the dark of the bus, for outside the hotel another lineup waited, hooting.

Jann Wenner, who now has his own Gulfstream II to better savor the full, rich joys of high society, had flown in Calvin and Kelly Klein and Barry Diller. He stood among the natives on the steps with the advantage of the man who knows his way around, his face all lit with pleasure at the procession from Malcolm's airlift. When no luggage arrived, there was a great outpouring to the bar, where Robert Maxwell, crisp and yacht-fresh, stood ordering a gin and tonic with the Buckleys.

"I'm having the ice. I don't care if I die," said Pat Buckley. And soon it was a tight and merry little band of tribesmen seeking refuge from rooms so tiny they must have reminded many of their banished childhoods. In they came, tripping over the carpets—Calvin and Kelly, Reinaldo Herrera, Oscar de la Renta—and with each new famous face came that throb of joy that told the guests they had done the right thing to come on Malcolm's trip. But some of the guests looked different. Some of the guests had that clean look of private transportation and fresh clothes. Carolyne Roehm's ballerina arms waved like fronds from a serious long purple silk jumpsuit. Blaine Trump was wearing gold ballet slippers. Yes, the Kravises, with their own plane, had already bought electric fans, for—a discovery being made with horror upstairs—there was no air-conditioning. Drue Heinz tripped on the carpets and fell, and Oscar, who had already checked out, swooped to help her up. Around the piano stood the privately transported Claudia and Ron

Perelman. Fran Lebowitz lounged against the piano as the piano man played.

"It's like Yentaville upstairs," a man announced. "Arnold and Gayfryd are like the Kramdens. Everyone's calling out the windows."

Upstairs, room shock was going on as everyone turned the key of his yellow-and-blue cell, hastily redecorated at the bidding of King Hassan.

From the door of Room 145, the mad little foot of Gayfryd Steinberg protruded, tapping. It was far, far from "Old Masters in a Tent" in Quogue, that peerless moment of triumph and

love when 250 pairs of happy, impressed eyes turned toward her in her royal-blue Galanos and she stretched out her arms and her cold, tense beauty relaxed just a weeny bit and she said, "Well, what do you think?!" and the whole air-conditioned tent vibrated with wild approval—mad stomping on the rugs underfoot and cheering at her artistry—and Saul said, "Honey, if this moment were a stock, I'd short it," and now, here she was in this cell on a low floor next to Arnold Scaasi, kind of like she was just Arnold Scaasi's date, across from people she didn't even know and unable to change into her next planned outfit. The mad little foot went tap-tap-tapping as Arnold Scaasi screamed down the hall for their luggage in really rather good French.

A

T ABOUT THIS TIME, THE hardworking, equipment-lugging press arrived and pounced with fresh joy on Walter Cronkite.

On line in the dining room was Lee Iacocca, and there stood Susan Gutfreund, from whose stricken face quickly

Carolyne Roehm.

34 NEW YORK/OCTOBER 2, 1989

Photographs by Ron Galella.

T H A T P A R Y

passed all expression. Her chin rose, and she became more and more remote with each passing event, until it was almost as if Susan were not there at all but rather floating somewhere above, like the basket of the balloon. Ron Galella picked up a plate and joined the line.

Temporary cliques had formed. Billy Norwich sat with Jane Lane and the editor of Forbes's new magazine, *Egg*. Hal Rubenstein. Nan and Tommy Kempner sat with the Marrons and the David Mahoneys.

"My toes are still curled up," Gayfryd said as she passed the Kleins, the Wenners, Fran Lebowitz, and Barry Diller. Then came Jerome Zipkin, carrying his valuables in a knotted plastic Baggie. In the back, the Perelmans and Barbara Walters and Merv Adelson and Beverly Sills and Dick Snyder and Leighton Candler and Reinaldo Herrera all raised their eyes longingly to one guest's sandalwood fan, for clearly this was a different sort of heat. The extremities swelled. Rings no longer fit, eyeglasses sweated with moisture in their cases, and people took on the damp, sweetly becoming flush of long-vanished youth.

"The mogul antennae have started to vibrate. They've found each other," said a voice.

At about this point in the dining room, with no member of the large Forbes family visible, it occurred to many of the guests that this was not going to be totally fun, but a rather trying and testing make-your-own affair—with all that looking over the shoulder to see who would beckon and who was sitting where, those concerns of *placement*. It was like those moments of rejection in the high-school cafeteria, the very insecurities that had propelled many of them to their present positions.

Tycoon hell!

The hotel was ordinary. The mounded food was ordinary. Many of these people had not lived in the ordinary for years.

Susan Gutfreund, yellow rose of Paris, Rothschild *amie*,
*reine* of a maison

*particulière*, organizer of the next planned spectacular for the historians of the Revolution—which, in fact, would turn out low-key—stood in line holding a plate.

Pat Kluge, mistress of Albemarle Farms in Virginia, where she, too, had created a whole other country and century (England, eighteenth century), stood in line holding a plate. This was the *old life* again.

The *new life* was to get in the car, and the driver closes the door with that rich, almost silent, money clunk, and the car drives right to the ramp of the private Gulfstream, which is steaming with anticipation and where there is someone with a smile and a glass, and the perspiration never hisses down the back of the neck and the pilot

takes off at your whim, sir (though bound some little bit, of course, by the vagaries of nature). One is met and whisked, double quick, to where the food is always good and the sheets are always 400-threads minimum and the vegetables young and small and the baths large and appealing and the towels not flat and scratchy-hard and all disturbing sights, like starving children, banished from the roads. This—this was like being out of the shell, the turtle on its back, baking on the road, its flippers flapping desperately, and some plunged back into the very ordinariness it had taken them 40-odd years and certain unspeakable acts to escape.

TYCOON HELL! WITH ALL THE FORGOTTEN SPORTS like riding on a bus and standing on a line, walking to the rear of a plane, and sharing a room (as Kay Graham was doing now with Luvie Pearson), and—oh!—the strangers around, folks who might not know exactly who you are, and how you reign over kingdoms, and have your own Monets, and hold others in thrall within your universe.

Some began to feel like props. Names on a list. Press food. Not, of course, the faceless CEOs and hamper-toting wives who approached this as the grand adventure it was, splashed a little Sidi Harazem water on their faces, accepted the Third World, and prepared to be thrilled. They waited for Malcolm to start the fabulous. No, the props weren't these chairmen. They were the most-listed names. And the principals—Liz and Malcolm— where were they?

A sort of schism developed between the billionaires and the chairmen, the New York group and the men who were just their companies. The rumless New Society wives did their job. They gave their men faces and personalities, brought them into much-photographed fun groups and all this thrilling social hoo-

IN A MOMENT OF BILLIONAIRES' TAG, ROBERT Maxwell sailed across the harbor as one of Gianni Agnelli's sleek black boats moved on. Yacht duels!

Maxwell's "The Lady Ghislane" and Agnelli's sailing yacht.

Photograph by Iris Love.

OCTOBER 2, 1989/NEW YORK

35

T H A T P A R T Y

ha. Some of these men walked around with a certain perpetually stunned, happy look, as though they could scarcely believe these creatures had happened to them.

But rivalries had begun. These are naturally competitive men who had scrabbled hard to the top, to these rumless wives with major jewels and hostessing abilities who could master the souks, fan-procuring, and other Third World skills—wives for whose peerless crispness the bulbs pop-pop-popped! Among them, it was noticed who had the better plane or yacht or day clothes or sportsmanship or pep—who got to Yves Vidal's house first, like the Kissingers, Liz Smith, Kay Graham, and Iris Love, and thus first escaped the dread ordinary of the dining room.

At one table, Mario Buatta was having dinner with Luvie Pearson and with Malcolm Forbes's old friends from Far Hills, New Jersey, the very group who had flown in (and would fly out) on Malcolm's own plane—the H.O.H. Frelinghuysens and the Pynes. They would roll through the weekend with that certain look they carry with them from country to country, climate to climate, like the old colonial British, flying their own brightly defiant colors—insulate, inviolate, and so secure that Nancy Pyne could wear funny pointy hats and jump in the pool in a long-sleeved leotard and not give a hoot. They were undazzled by anything, fond of Malcolm, for they had raised their children together. It is from this that Malcolm Forbes, though born in Brooklyn, comes. He is of this country-squire crowd, adventurous in its own way, maybe slightly loopy like the English eccentrics, fond of display and show—witness the loving laying-out of lavish picnic hampers, the gleaming old flamboyant cars at those tailgating parties. Malcolm Forbes is Far Hills carried to an extreme.

The groups showed mutual uninterest. Like little hot-air

THERE WAS A GREAT
outpouring to the bar.
“I’m having the ice,” Pat
Buckley said. “I don’t
care if I die.”

balloons, they floated past each other, each bearing its own stars and icons. There was no mixing, as though everyone were too old or too hot or too tired to make friends with people whose lives were too different. Photographers trying to get it all straight photographed Calvin and Kelly Klein and Henry Kissinger and Walter Cronkite and Barbara Walters and Lee Iacocca and his girlfriend. Soon, everyone whipped out little cameras and continued this strange sport of photographing one another being photographed by the press. It still felt like some kind of history—this group all together in the middle of the summer in Tangier.

In sets, they clung to each other as over some of them came the sense that they had lost control of the motion of the weekend—these people who hate to lose control, who run things and make schedules, not follow them, and need their props and retinues in place. Some had called to make reservations for “suites” and adjacent rooms for their security. Some must have known ahead of time they could not bear to be part of Forbes’s show. There was no Donald Trump. No Saul Steinberg. No Steve Ross. No other movie stars but Dina Merrill. No Launders, though baskets of Estée Lauder products appeared like blessed New World manna in the sad little middle-class rooms that tried so hard, but not hard enough for this group.

Gordon Getty walked into the lobby, followed by Ann Getty and Miki Sarofim, who had been out buying caftans. Down in the harbor, Robert Maxwell and the Buckleys took to his air-conditioned yacht *The Lady Ghislane*.

"What am I supposed to do with these funny little things?" said Betsy Bloomingdale, flinging back the coins the cashier gave her. The photographers would not let the elevator doors close on Blaine and Robert Trump. Zipkin almost slumped on a banquette with the enthralled Rick Smith and the Trumps, who were now holding hands. Upstairs in his room, Billy Norwich found one of the black Moroccan-leather dispatch cases that were given to everyone and thought someone had sent him secret news exclusives.

C

REAT EFFORTS HAD BEEN MADE. SECURITY MEN patrolled each floor, and the tea men sat ready to pour. An entire miniature marzipan city with soldiers and parapets bearing candied almonds and sweets was disregarded.

"Have you seen my driver?" Barry Diller said to the doorman and headed off with his group to the Old Town, past the crowd that was always watching.

People left their windows open, only to find them closed by the night maids, for when the door opened at the same time as the window, a tremendous wind tunnel was created, and important Malcolmesque documents—bids to invest in the Kingdom of Morocco, cards from Fouad Filali and l'Omnium Nord African and the minister of information, and Moroccan *Vogue* and a Forbes press kit and cocktail napkins saying ALI-DADA'S 70TH PALAIS MENDOUB—were blown around in a fierce maelstrom from the sea, where, offshore, the Atlantic met the Mediterranean.

"Find out where the zook is," John Kluge supposedly told his "man," mispronouncing "souk" so that his "man" brought him directions to the Tangier zoo. It was said the hotel-owning Pritzkers had checked out, and the impeccable Oscar and Annette.

At noon the next day, Susan Gutfreund and Pat Kluge sauntered across the Avenue des Forces Armes Royales in clothes that whispered, clothes so demure they were almost dowdy. The two walked slowly, in the stately manner of the

grandes dames they would become. You could almost see it happening. Under the yacht bellies at the port, frogmen swam looking for bombs. A group returned from the Caves of Hercules, where, as Iris Love explained, in ancient times garum, a putrefied fish paste, was made. Some walked through the souks and under pomegranate trees and through a sultan's palace while Allison and Leonard Stern visited Prince Peter of Yugoslavia, being served breakfast on cracked china under the trees of his ancient garden. Soon, some of them appeared on *My Midnight Saga*, the yacht Rupert Murdoch had chartered.

In a moment of billionaires' tag, Robert Maxwell sailed *The Lady Ghislane* across the harbor, forcing one of Gianni Agnelli's two sleek black boats to move. Slowly, lingeringly, and more than once, Agnelli sailed past with Kissinger, the Buckleys, Kay Graham, and Oscar and Annette poised like tiny social trophies along the prow. "Is that my uncle?" said Diane Von Furstenberg.

The two black Agnelli boats (one to sleep, one to sail)—like matched magnificent beasts on a leash—were separated, and one rich man stood on the stern and smiled at it all as the Agnelli sailing yacht made another full, savory tour. Yacht duels! Soon, all the social captives were aboard.

Pat and Bill Buckley.

36 NEW YORK/OCTOBER 2, 1989

Photograph by Ron Galella.

TENT TROOPERS

Clockwise from top left: Mr. and Mrs. Robert Maxwell; Blaine Trump; Susan Gutfreund; John Kluge, Carolyn Roehm, husband Henry Kravis, and Barbara Walters; Gianni Agnelli, Marella Agnelli, and Annette Reed.

Two cars arrived in a blast of security, so everyone thought it was the king at last, but it was Ron and Claudia. Soon it became clear that with James Goldsmith and Robert Maxwell and Kravis and Stern and Agnelli and Getty and Kluge and so forth, there was a supreme concentration of billionaires here and that what was once meant by "millionaire"—that is, a figure rather rare, the cause of slight wonder—is today only the man with the Big B.

Then Malcolm Forbes appeared in a yellow shirt and green pants right out of Far Hills (it was said he even had a little hole in his shirt), and for some guests, it was the first and last time they were able to speak to him. For Malcolm was now as a king and, as such, duly remote, a man to whom you present yourself, who comes to the party with a smile on his face. Malcolm attends, goes here and there, parks his motorcycle at dark in some unlikely places, sometimes with his "fetcher" (the man who steers and leads him out through crowds), his pilot, or one of his aides.

He is 70 this day, and his latest book is about the "flame-outs," as he puts it, of famous people. He tells the press his one birthday wish is to live longer, and this must mean more time to go up the Amazon, dangle up in the sky in a wicker basket, ride fast along roads in his leather on a Harley, and fill more museums and houses with things he collects both in miniature and in the real. He can repair more ruined mansions like Palais Mendoub or Old Battersea House in London and take more trips that flirt with the infinite, love his family, and do more

business, for he is a businessman above all. He is also a man who is almost always smiling.

One night, when Donald Trump had invited some friends— and many of them had a billion dollars—to a Tyson fight, it was discussed who among all of them had the most fun with his money. They all said Malcolm Forbes.

"He's like five remarkable people," Alecko Papamarkou would say. Malcolm lived in the fabulous, and from him the fabulous was expected. "They want to know, 'Is this bear dancing well tonight? Is this bear performing all his old tricks?'"

AND THEN COMES SHE.

A

Not the She of *Butterfield 8* waking up in Laurence Harvey's bed, pawing among the butts for a cigarette, picking up the dress he ripped off her, brushing her teeth with scotch ("good scotch," she would tell Eddie Fisher), washing with perfume, and picking up the phone to say, "Hi, it's Gloria," in *that* voice. Nor is she the natural evolution of the creature from *National Velvet* if life had been easier for her. But still She. On a yacht in gold-and-snakeskin high-heeled boots in 90 degrees and a gauze overblouse, bloomer pants tucked into the boots, and artificial violets in a big clot pinned to the back of her head—the breasts seemingly unfettered, as big as melons, the head large, the face rather orange—a beauty that violates

Photographs: top left, Sonia Moskowitz; top center, Iris Love; top right and bottom left and right, Ron Galella.

OCTOBER 2, 1989/NEW YORK

37

Members of the "Green Tribe" charge the Black Tent, fire, and retreat at King Hassan's lunch.

A CHICKIE RUN! EACH TRIBE showed its courage and horsemanship by coming as close as it could to trampling Malcolm and Liz.

every rule of modern beauty. It's like looking at Elvis Presley. A mad, timeless beauty, impossibly compelling with that sweet, famous girl-voice. She is frighteningly different from other human beings, one of those people you must stare at, as do the lizard lids of Sao Schlumberger and the bright,

wide eyes of Betsy Bloomingdale. There are eyes watching eyes watching this "terrible beauty" piling her plate. Malcolm Forbes's arm—which is always lightly around her in public—now, in private, is not.

Lebowitz kept hers on and her evening shirt all done up and stood like a good little party soldier. Barry Diller leaned on his dress cane, as did Kelly Klein, the Duchess of Windsor's pearls having found their way—with that migratory skill all great jewels possess—to precisely the right neck. Together,

Kelly and Calvin in their white clothes with their tan skins maintained an aura of youth and American freshness, of white curtains blowing from Obsession into Eternity.

To Blaine Trump, though she was denied her " creature comforts" and tired from screams of fun from the pool all night, all this was kind of like being in camp, being here with all the chums, and so she raised her little camera and scampered girlishly out the door, brilliantly dressed in white harem pants and a beaded jacket with flat slippers. Down came Diane Von Furstenberg in Valentino's matador's suit of lights.

Outside the Palais Mendoub, the rocking lineup had grown even larger, and now there were camels and the desert people with coins jangling on their faces and fiery horses wild with the sight of 300 sultans of industry—all sent by the king, who, though dazzled by the names and companies on Forbes's lists, would not send himself.

How could he? At King Hassan's forty-fourth birthday party, one out of five people there had been killed, and it was only Malcolm Forbes's combat training that won him his Bronze Star and Purple Heart that saved Forbes's life. Later, three Moroccan jets tried to shoot Hassan from the skies, and only by getting on the radio and saying "The king is dead" could he land. Well, who dies for a party? (Though he did send his sons.)

The driveway was covered with carpets and tossed rose petals for the guests to walk upon, but there was no walking, only a motionless line between the flintlock rifles raised in salute. People studied each other.

"Are they real?" Zuckerman said, looking up into a crown of large ovoid emeralds.

IN THE VERY EVENING OF THE PARTY OF THE century, Diane Von Furstenberg leaned over the railing of the stairwell of the Solazur, where the balloon hung.

"Z! Z! Z!" she called out, which is how she calls Mortimer Zuckerman. On her wrists

were two fearsomely spiked Moroccan warrior bracelets, which desert tribesmen must have used to maim each other and which the Z had bought her that very afternoon there in the shop across from the hotel El Minzah as Claudia Cohen and Barbara Walters peered around, and Iris Love tried on a caftan, and Jim Robinson of American Express posed in his fez, all of them having found, through mogul antennae, their way to the very same expensive shop.

After many of the Z's traveler's checks had been signed, Diane sat down on the sidewalk and held out her wrists with her new weapons and said, "They're really very me."

"That's the problem," Zuckerman had said, and they laughed and went off to buy brass.

Now it was late. Hordes of chomping chairmen and their wives had boarded the Sahara Tours coaches, and a small cluster of guests stood in front of the concierge stalling to arrive that crucial New York half-hour late. Jerome Zipkin had his jacket wrapped around his arm like a tourniquet, but Fran

38 NEW YORK/OCTOBER 2, 1989

Photograph by Glenn A. Davis/Sygma.

T H A T P A R T Y

"They're not very good," someone else said.

"Cabochon," said two voices at once. With the arrogance and casual assumption of safety of the rich, many had brought over their jewels. They walked the souks wearing large cuffs of gold studded with stones and large square diamonds like those flashing from the ears of Kelly Klein. They slept with their doors open because of the heat, secure in the knowledge that nothing could happen to them under the protection of the king.

"It's like *1001 Nights!*" breathed Dina Merrill, who grew up in a silver bed in a fairy-tale nursery at Mar-a-Lago in Palm Beach and who, like the better-bred guests and a good supporting actress, made an effort to enjoy herself.

Suddenly, a great fever shook the line, a kind of parallel motion, and another line, surely carrying some very precious bodies, swept by, and in it, contained like a jewel, was King Constantine of Greece. He had been told by Forbes that he was at Forbes's table, and so, when he asked and was told this line was for seating, forged ahead. Immediately, some others pretending to be part of the retinue advanced in a swoop right up to Malcolm's motorcycles, symbols of defiance flanking the entrance. And what motorcycles they were! Big Harley hogs like the one Brando used to strike townie terror in *The Wild One*. Mean, black, roaring mothers to bear the fearless Malcolm, who had taken up the sport at age 48.

One guest motioned to the two bare-chested Nubian types who had crossed their scimitars, barring the entrance to Forbes's toy-soldier museum. She remembered going into the Soldier Shop on Madison Avenue trying to buy a special soldier for Forbes to add to his 117,000-plus and how the owner, when he heard who it was for, laughed and said Forbes had the world's greatest collection. She wanted to see the museum, since it seemed that there was a spare hour or so to wait. But the Nubians shook their turbans.

A T TIMES, IT SEEMED AS THOUGH THE WHOLE party would take place here on the line. Finally, one guest dropped away and sat down forlornly on a little curb under an oleander and watched everybody picking seating from two bowls (one for singles, one for couples—but who knew that then? It seemed rigged). People got put in areas by colors, and there was much calling out of "We're purple," "We got red," and studying of diagrams to see which were the right tents. Gianni Agnelli and Jim Robinson reportedly stomped right out. Oscar de la Renta traded and switched, and Zipkin was massing his troops. There was trading-in of cards and repicking and, even then, much cheating, which never occurred to many party innocents. Leonard Stern, wearing his fez, brought Kelly Klein a chair, for she, too, had dropped out and watched this whole roiling mass with young but learning eyes.

"There are other people here with more money, but they don't spend it like this," said Leonard Stern.

Meanwhile, the receiving line disbanded before many knew it existed, and that would be the last anyone could ever imagine of seeing the host and She. But then, there they were, up on a kind of stage-thing being screamed at and posed like toy soldiers by the world press. She was wearing a caftan and a hair tower that must have been monstrously uncomfortable and hot. Those eyes were flashing, and still her chin rose, because She is a pro, and she smiled.

"Would everyone please take the tents they have selected?" said Ruth Schwartz, the planner of the party, in such a heavy New York voice that it immediately destroyed any remnants of the fragile otherworld spirit.

One couple made their lonely way over the TV cables that coiled across the carpets to the Green Tent, which, amazingly,

was totally filled except for two tables in the rear. Down they sat, and then in came a Moroccan couple looking glum and then a tall man and finally two angelic-faced blond boys in kind of matching waiter-style dinner jackets, one of whom turned out to be the very architect of Elizabeth Taylor's hair tower. There were two empty seats. French was the one common language.

"I hope no one decides to slit the tent with a scimitar," said one man, leaning back against the staggeringly lavish tent, only one of five such domed minarets with pineapples, the symbol of hospitality, printed on their sides.

There sat this table at the party of the century in a fog of misery because it was all so lavish and splendid with the brocades and cushions and yet... Kip Forbes sat in the center of the tent but never appeared to jolly up the rest of his Green Tent. However bound Malcolm was by the dethroned kings, crown princes, and movie star, at least Kip might have done the odd walkabout after the pigeon pie. Even the belly dancer seemed disheartened, and even she tripped on the carpets. Barry Diller poked his head in.

"No cane," someone said.

"It's the miracle of the Palais Mendoub. The canes have disappeared."

In the beating heat, we took on the giddiness of fellow passengers in the elevator down after the party, when everyone sighs and giggles and rolls his eyes. We talked about the hennaing of hair, and going to the hairdresser, even for hair that must always be covered.

"Ah, the simultaneous lifting of the silver domes," said a voice as the bearers appeared. The hairdresser's friend got a headache, disappeared to look for an aspirin, and never returned to his little corner of the bash of the titans.

As the cake was being cut by Malcolm, his daughter Moira, and She (it was the daughter who would be cut from future pictures), a guest stared at a single tassel wrapped around a post. It had tiny braided green and white cords wrapped around it. It was a prince of a tassel—maybe $85—and such detail. The guest lifted it and let the threads run through his fingers and then looked up at the wrapped and draped tent posts and the full moon over Morocco and around at the staggered chairmen as Malcolm thanked his 800 guests for his twelve presents.

SOME GUESTS WERE BOTHERED THAT THEY MIGHT HAVE to address a word to strangers.

"I consider them pieces of furniture. I didn't want to sit next to a commode," Jerome Zipkin would tell a reporter from *Prime Time Live*.

Elizabeth Taylor would be quoted as saying, "Oh, Hollywood doesn't *have* such a scale," as millions of viewers imagined her as Cleopatra riding into Rome on that Sphinx. "Malcolm outdoes them all," she would say tightly in that venomously sweet voice, which is how Elizabeth Taylor lies.

Finally, it all had to be measured in numbers—the numbers of dead birds and lambs, meters of carpet, pairs of hands, yards of silken fabrics and cushions—when it is only the fragile beating spirit that makes a party, a certain crush of attractive or interesting people in a light mood who want to stay and stay.

As the first sequin stars of the fireworks began to bang in the sky, a number of guests were out over the carpets, some looking back so they wouldn't be caught, some carrying their copies of *More Than I Dreamed: A Lifetime of Collecting*, on the back of which Malcolm Forbes stands in shades and black biker leather, his stomper boots planted in the center of some highway. Out they came to where the nomads and Tuareg roused themselves and burst into welcome and the men with the scythes in one hand and the grain in the other began rhythmically mimicking the reaping of the sheaves.

OCTOBER 2, 1989/NEW YORK

39

T H A T P A R T Y

Nan Kempner, the Trumps, Henry and Carolyne Kravis, Catie and Donald Marron all boarded a bus.

"Venice! Vino rosso!" said Carolyne Roehm with a big sigh, for their plane was leaving early for Cipriani, and they were going home to luxury.

THE NEXT MORNING, THE SEA WINDS BLEW IN THE gauzy curtains of the dining room, where in the very farthest corner John Kluge and Robert Maxwell were having breakfast.

"Send another sailor," Maxwell barked into his yacht-to-shore phone. Every once in a while, Malcolm Forbes's name floated across the breeze from the Strait of Gibraltar.

"I turned down a lordship," said Maxwell, as across the room wafted the distinctive tones of Jerome Zipkin at breakfast with Barry Diller, Calvin Klein, and Henry Kissinger.

"My love to your missus," said Maxwell, rising. Another fellow joined Kluge for a second seating.

By lunch, people sat in their king clothes under the gasping balloon. Abe Rosenthal took his suitcases to the dining room, wearing his little camera and the big smile that showed him peacefully, happily, "one" with the social hoo-ha.

Again, people stopped on the side of the road to stare at the cavalcade of pale faces, and there were veiled mothers who bent down to explain to their children as the buses passed.

Because this is a fairy tale and in a fairy tale each obstacle or test or chest of jewels has to be greater than the last, and the third must be the greatest of all, there were now even more horsemen mounted even more splendidly, with bobbles dangling from gold and silver harnesses. An open field was filled with the sixteen white tents with pineapples and minaret domes that meant Forbes was at the Tangier Country Club. There were ever more bendir-bangers and dancers representing all the Moroccan tribes as we represented many American tribes (though no black tycoons were sighted). But here were the Rahamna, the Shluh tribes, the blue people of the Sahara.

Robert Maxwell was sitting with James Goldsmith, and he was wearing his morning caftan and his CAPTAIN VR BOB hat, tearing into the platter with the whole lamb carcass, taking strong, manly pinches of cumin, gouging out the bread to make great bloody sops of the juices. The food, haute-desert style, made a savage of everyone hacking away as the various tribes charged the main tent and fired their rifles.

A CHICKIE RUN! JUST LIKE IN *Rebel Without a Cause*, when James Dean and "Buzz" raced their cars to the very edge of the cliff and the first one to roll out before the car went over the cliff was the chicken. This was a chance for each tribe to show its courage and horsemanship by coming as close as it could to trampling Malcolm and Liz, the Kissingers, the princes, the Far Hills group, Luvie Pearson, and Kay Graham, all in the black tent. And so it went—charge, fire, retreat. And it was a competition exactly like Agnelli sailing past Rupert Murdoch's boat, and Maxwell making Agnelli move.

Every time the 40 or so rifles cracked, people would flinch and pop their shoulders because they never knew quite when it was coming. The fingers might just be dipping into the couscous when—bang!

"That's how Sadat went," said Barbara Walters.

Then the tribesmen filed past on foot and on their knees, shaking the tassels on their hats, banging and heaving and tapping their bendirs, blowing long brass trumpets—all gloriously dressed. And those magnificent Arabian horses—many of them white with floating tails and desert fires in their

eyes—ridden by hard old squinting men. There were carpets underfoot in the fields and cushions and fabulous fabrics, gold-rimmed glasses and plates with peacocks on lace clothes. We were served by waiters with fezzes just like Leonard Stern's, men who knelt to serve from a king's etched silver platters. *No one would ever forget.*

"No skipping," said a voice. "You must participate in each event so you feel thoroughly worked over and taken advantage of."

Two dark Mercedeses drove right onto the field, and there was a great shifting and shuffling of bodies and cracking the doors open, and then that pushing, straining mass of photographers and guards and officials and, in the center, Malcolm, who by this time had taken to wearing royal purple, and the spiky peaks of Liz Taylor's hair came out from the black tent.

"He's made himself into a movie star," someone said.

Taylor and Forbes had reached that exact point of fame when they could not be left alone, when every step and gesture is attended and watched and recorded, so that Malcolm (because of She) walking across a field to get into a car becomes an event to document and wonder at. There are questions to ask. Why is he going? What is he doing? Is he leaving his guests? Is she sick? He cannot move, not take a step, without trailing that whole grinding, clicking, whirring, calling-in-tongues publicity machine, and so he is perforce isolated from the mass of billionaires and millionaires tearing into the flesh of the lamb in the tented fields of the Tangier Country Club.

The weekend is a study in fame. There's the minor New York-bound fame of Blaine and Carolyne. Then there's the television fame of Kissinger and Walters. And, at a whole other level, the sick, desperate movie-star-freak fame, the merciless charge, the centipede movement of camera and crews pushing to the center, where Elizabeth Taylor stands like the defendant at a big trial. This is what She always has and what he borrows for the weekend.

They roar off across the field because she has seen a white horse she likes and wants a closer look. The crown prince gives it to her.

"I guess the party's over," says a guest, but no, they come cruising back. And the horses charge and rear, and the guns fire.

Back at home, in the dark, the Forbes guests fight for their luggage, which has been dumped on the tarmac, and many scenes are staged as they try to have their cars drive right to them. But this is America, New York moreover, and the fairy tale is over.

STRETCH!" SAYS A FAR HILLS VOICE. "CAN I HAVE YOU looking through the balloon?" She takes up her camera and gets Stretch, who is one of those giant fellows with a brick face and small nose and the lemon pants floating above the ankles, to put his head through the ropes almost as though he were in the basket hanging from the now-exhausted balloon dangling in the center of the Hotel Solazur in Tangier. Most everyone has gone home. She pats an immovable blonde flip, unchanged from 30 years ago, as Stretch photographs her.

Outside, the barricades are coming down. Inside, the rented carpets are coming up. By the pool, the journalists type, the roses droop. The last chairmen jump in where just yesterday the heads of Kravis and Wenner, Snyder and Jim Hoge floated above the water like hippos wallowing in the mud, their eyes raised above the surface, comparing the figures of the wives. The security men and the tea men have vanished from the halls, but the people still stand around in the streets and stare because this is what people do here.

A big square of Tangier night is framed in the window of the hotel El Minzah overlooking its famous garden. A slim English

40 NEW YORK/OCTOBER 2, 1989

Elizabeth Taylor and Malcolm Forbes, decorated and enthroned.

"WHAT DID THEY EXPECT—that I would build them a hotel?" said Malcolm Forbes. "I didn't have a clue we were in trouble."

fashion editor with a white T-shirt and a tie around his waist bounds in to check on his table, which soon is filled with other artfully dressed boys and a single girl with cropped hair and Sao Schlumberger, whose head is tied in the native manner with a scarf dangling gold coins. Violins are played on the knees, songs are

chanted, a man dances with a tray of candles on his head, and a belly dancer veiled and in black circles the room, and over all hangs a whiff of the Casbah, the old international free port Tangier, full of rogue possibilities, where no one is quite sure who likes what or whom. It's a night for liaisons.

A woman who was born here leans over and says, "The only one who profited here was Forbes."

Out on the street, there is a scene, a sobbing girl. A policeman comes along, leads a boy who has done something wrong into an alley. The girl stands next to him, still sobbing. The policeman slaps and cuffs the boy about ten times, not very hard.

BACK AT THE SOLAZUR, RUTH SCHWARTZ IS apologizing on the phone to Malcolm Forbes. The cafés that lost business when they were closed have opened again. The night trains pass on the tracks next to the sea. Mysteriously, the balloon has reinflated. Fuller than ever, it tugs at its ropes, the basket risen way above the floor, ready to fly over the scrambling Casbah, the Medina, the alleys full of tooled leather, backless gold-threaded slippers, and pointed colored mounds of spices, out over the harbor where the yachts and all the princes have gone.

"Everything he does is so successful, it demands something else," says one of the Far Hills friends.

"The boys have shown they can do it all themselves, if only they can think it up."

"WHAT DID THEY EXPECT—that I would build them a hotel?" says Malcolm Forbes.

"Well, yes," says a voice.

"I didn't have a clue we were in trouble," says Forbes, and it is strange to hear him apologizing, because he is here, back in the realm of the fabulous at

his office in New York.

Downstairs are the Forbes Galleries—the miniature soldiers, boats, rooms, tiny carriages, and birds popping from jeweled Fabergé eggs. Here Forbes keeps the Presidential Papers, the collection closest to his heart, which he began when he was eight and used to snip the famous signatures from his father's letters. The collections stretch over the world, through the generations, from the balloon museum in France to Kip Forbes's 400 Victorian and Pre-Raphaelite paintings at Old Battersea House—all those fairy-tale women with their damned white faces and streaming red hair.

"This party wasn't done for ego or to show opulence," he says. It was done for business, so that the name Forbes would be heard in Europe, where they are starting a German edition, as they may in Italy and Japan. It was done to get 300 chief executives who "would not go to another night at the Waldorf while we pat ourselves on the back." And he knows he succeeded.

Still, he finds himself saying, "Thank you for being a sport," and making little jokes, like when Elaine sent him a present and he wrote back saying, "The bad news is that the seventy-first is at your restaurant!" He has gotten thank-you notes and a few more presents, though it's hard to buy this man a present. The worst complainers are mailing their party pictures around. *No one will ever forget.* There they stand, under the balloon, arms locked, couples intertwined with others, and they are smiling, now forever, just like Malcolm Forbes.

OCTOBER 2, 1989/NEW YORK 41

SWEATSHIRT
JUSTICE

How the War on Crime
Is Expanding
To Crush Some Rights

BY CHRISTOPHER BYRON

IN A NIPPY MORNING LAST NOVEMBER, RICHARD MAN-
nino, a New Jersey construction worker, entered
the federal courthouse in Brooklyn and began
wandering around looking for Room 479. He and
three friends had been subpoenaed by Organized
Crime Strike Force investigators to give grand-jury
testimony in a tax-evasion case against Stanley Mollica,
owner of a Staten Island construction company.

In spite of the famous quip by New York Chief Judge Sol Wachtler that any prosecutor worth his salt can get a grand jury to "indict a ham sandwich," grand juries are, in theory at least, expected to be completely impartial and unbiased in the discharge of their duties. Yet if Wachtler had accompanied Mannino and his pals into Room 479 that November morning, he would have witnessed a scene he'd never forget: federal grand jurors preparing to take testimony while dressed in pale-blue sweatshirts adorned with drawings of kangaroos dangling from hangman's nooses and emblazoned with the words WE HANG 'EM ON THURSDAY. In their hands, jurors held coffee mugs that also bore pictures of kangaroos in nooses. As Mannino and his friends watched in amazement, one juror, a woman, moved about the room soliciting orders for yet more sweatshirts and coffee mugs, while others wandered in and out as if the unfolding scene were the most ordinary event in the world.

In the months that have followed, the events of that Novem-
ber morning have multiplied into larger and larger problems for

42 NEW YORK/OCTOBER 2, 1989