Decision Points

Pete Williams of NBC News deciphered the Supreme Court’s verdict. By a vote of 7–2, the justices found that Florida’s chaotic, inconsistent recount procedure had violated the equal protection clause of the Constitution. Then, by a vote of 5–4, the Court ruled that there was no fair way to recount the votes in time for Florida to participate in the Electoral College. The election results would stand. By a tally of 2,912,790 to 2,912,253, I had won Florida. I would be the forty-third president of the United States.
    My first response was relief. The uncertainty had inflicted a heavy toll on the country. After all the ups and downs, I didn’t have the emotional capacity to rejoice. I had hoped to share my victory with twenty thousand people at the state capitol on election night. Instead, I probably became the first person to learn he had won the presidency while lying in bed with his wife watching TV.

    For the first 140 years of American history, presidential inaugurations were held on March 4. A president elected in early November had about 120 days to prepare for his administration. In 1933, the Twentieth Amendment changed Inauguration Day to January 20, shortening the average transition to about 75 days. When the 2000 election was finally resolved in
Bush v. Gore
, I had 38 days.
    My first big decision was how I wanted the White House to function. That was a question I had pondered before. In 1991, Dad asked me to study the operation of his White House. After interviewing all his senior staffers, a common theme emerged: People were dissatisfied. Most felt that Chief of Staff John Sununu had denied them access to the Oval Office and limited the flow of information to Dad. I had always liked John, but my job was not to debate the case; it was to report the findings. I did so several days before Thanksgiving of 1991. Dad concluded that heneeded to make a change. He asked me to notify John, which I did in an awkward conversation. He submitted his resignation shortly thereafter.
    I was determined to avoid that problem in my White House. I wanted a structure that was tight enough to ensure an orderly flow of information but flexible enough that I could receive advice from a variety of sources. It was important that advisers felt free to express concerns to me directly, without passing through a filter. Plus it would be easier to convince key members of my Texas political family to move to Washington if they would have regular access to me.
    The key to creating this structure was to hire an experienced, confident chief of staff who would not feel threatened by my relationships with his subordinates. Ironically, I found the perfect man in John Sununu’s deputy, Andy Card. When I visited Dad’s White House, I would often kick back in Andy’s office to get a candid update on how things were going. Andy was perceptive, humble, loyal, and hardworking. He had served under every chief of staff during both the Reagan and Bush presidencies. He had the sound judgment and steady temperament I needed, along with a caring heart and a good sense of humor. I was convinced he was the right person to lead my White House staff .
    A couple of weeks before the election, I met discreetly with Andy in Florida. It was clear he thought I was asking him to lead the transition. “No, I’m talking about The Big One,” I said. I explained that he would be the only chief of staff, but that I would also rely heavily on Texans like Karl, Karen, Al Gonzales, Harriet Miers , Clay Johnson , and Dan Bartlett for advice. Andy agreed to the job, so long as I informed him of any decisions I made outside his presence. I announced his selection in late November, making him the first official member of my White House team.
    The next important position to fill was national security adviser. I knew from watching Dad’s close relationship with Brent Scowcroft that it was crucial to find someone highly capable and completely trustworthy.
    On a trip to Maine in the summer of 1998, Dad introduced me to Condoleezza Rice, who had served as a Soviet specialist on his National Security Council staff. The daughter of an African American minister from segregated Birmingham, Alabama, Condi had a Ph.D. from the University of Denver and had become provost of Stanford at age thirty-eight. She immediately struck me as a smart, thoughtful, energetic woman.

    With my two closest foreign policy advisers, Steve Hadley and Condi Rice.
White House/Paul Morse
    Over the