Jesse Helms is the man who gleefully gives the President
nightmares on foreign policy
Where is the mecca of american foreign policy? It's not in
Washington's Foggy Bottom neighborhood, where the gray monolith
of the State Department gazes out onto the Potomac, or in the
trendy salons of Georgetown or the Council on Foreign Relations
in New York City. No, to get to mecca, you have to drive east on
U.S. 74 to the village of Wingate, N.C. There you will find
mecca on the right side of the road, just across from a
Hardee's. It's the Jesse Helms Center, set up nine years ago as
a shrine for the North Carolina Senator in an old white
neoclassical home with a wide portico and fluted columns.
Inside, Helms has a replica of his Washington Senate office. On
walls hang hundreds of photos of him pumping hands with
Presidents and foreign leaders. There's also a framed copy of
his floor speech during Bill Clinton's impeachment trial and a
letter from Spiro Agnew: Thanks for being "a truly wonderful
Everybody who's anybody in U.S. foreign policy has made the
pilgrimage to mecca: Henry Kissinger, Jimmy Carter, former U.N.
Ambassador Jeane Kirkpatrick, Joint Chiefs Chairman General Hugh
Shelton. Madeleine Albright packed the hall at nearby Wingate
University, where Helms studied for a year, for a speech (during
which she gave the Senator a T shirt emblazoned with SOMEBODY AT
THE STATE DEPARTMENT LOVES ME). Earlier this month, U.N.
Secretary-General Kofi Annan delivered a commencement address at
Wingate with a beaming Helms sitting in the front row waving a
fan against the broiling sun.
Annan and the others were paying homage. Helms, now 78, has been
tormenting American Presidents and their diplomats for 28 years,
mostly from his perch on the Senate Foreign Relations Committee.
He has voted against so many bills--from food stamps to the Martin
Luther King holiday to practically every arms-control treaty--that
critics nicknamed him "Senator No," a moniker he cherishes. He
has blocked so many nominees that he can't remember all their
names. (Robert Pastor was startled when he testified before Helms
four years after the Senator had bottled up his nomination in
1994 to be ambassador to Panama: "He didn't seem to know who I
And now the Clinton Administration finds its chances for a
serious foreign policy legacy--on everything from arms control to
the Middle East--under Helms' gavel. When he's in the mood, he
seems happy to hand the Administration a big win, as he did with
NATO expansion last spring. But most of the time he enjoys
outfoxing the White House, as he did last year when he got the
Senate to reject the nuclear test-ban treaty. At the end of next
week, when Clinton flies to Moscow for his first summit with
Russian President Vladimir Putin, he will be looking over his
shoulder at the North Carolinian. Helms, worried that Clinton
might agree to Russian demands that the U.S. curb its
missile-defense program, has already told the President not to
bring back an arms deal, particularly one that keeps the
Antiballistic Missile Treaty alive. He will kill it in his
committee. "I just wanted to stop that before it grew feathers,"
the folksy Helms said in a lengthy interview with TIME.
Albright is privately livid over the threat. Telling a President
he can't negotiate a treaty crosses a constitutional line, she
feels. But if Clinton wants any trophy out of Moscow, he will
first have to get it past Helms. "Right now," says John Bolton,
senior vice president of the American Enterprise Institute, "he's
as powerful as J. William Fulbright," who headed the committee at
the height of the Vietnam War.
Fulbright would roll over in his grave at the comparison. The
Foreign Relations Committee is only a shell of what it was when
the influential Arkansas Democrat was its chairman from 1959 to
1974. "The dirty little secret is they don't do very much now,"
says a senior Administration aide. Helms sticks to a few cold war
issues like Russia and China and lets the panel's younger
Republicans lead hearings on other subjects. But Helms' committee
still approves State Department nominees and treaties, a power he
has used in a masterly way to become a de facto Foreign Minister.
Clinton nominees quickly learned Helms' soft spots. "If you're
ever being confirmed by Jesse Helms, always refer to your dead
parents in your opening statement or have your kids at the
hearing," says a former Helms aide. Albright won him over with
stories about fleeing communism as a child and rearing three
daughters as a single mom. "She's a classy lady," Helms still
says. During his successful confirmation last summer, U.N.
Ambassador Richard Holbrooke introduced his mother, then
tearfully wished his dead father could have been there.
This White House has found that Helms can be cultivated, but it
has to be done as carefully as growing a prizewinning rose. Joe
Biden of Delaware, the committee's savvy senior Democrat, last
year got Helms to agree to allow the U.S. to pay $926 million of
its arrears to the U.N., an organization Helms has reviled. But
there was a catch: Helms insisted on U.N. policy changes that are
still holding up the bulk of the payments. Before Holbrooke was
sworn in, Helms asked the White House to appoint an alternate
U.N. delegate: Irwin Belk, a feisty North Carolina buddy who
heads a department-store chain. Clinton agreed, and Belk, who
turned out to be a U.N. cheerleader, quickly became, as a top
Administration aide chortles, a "national asset."
Belk talked Helms into delivering a speech to the U.N. Security
Council on Jan. 20, a first for the Senator and the council. The
next night Belk was host of a dinner for Helms with 130 of the
U.N.'s diplomatic elite at the posh Metropolitan Club.
The cease-fire had begun. Helms reciprocated by inviting the
Security Council representatives to the U.S. Capitol this spring.
The 15 ambassadors sat politely as Helms delivered a civics
lecture on Congress's role in U.S. foreign policy. Some doodled
on notepads, but the Senator was glowing. "I think Jesse has
decided he doesn't want his legacy just being obstruction," Biden
suggests. After council president Anwarul Karim Chowdhury of
Bangladesh larded him with praise, Helms buttonholed Holbrooke:
"If Bangladesh wants anything from me, they can have it."
So, has Senator No mellowed to Senator Maybe? "Not once!" Helms
thunders as if you've asked him whether he's ever tried on a
Union Army uniform. "As Popeye used to say, 'I am what I am.'"
Albright's cozying, for the most part, has only got Helms to
treat her politely at hearings. The relationship, in fact, has
cooled somewhat. Helms bristles when she doesn't respond to his
letters promptly or when she calls to "consult" him on an issue
she's already decided. Helms also hasn't lost his hard edge,
particularly when it comes to civil rights, women's rights and
gay rights. Last October, he had Capitol police throw out 10
Congresswomen who barged into his hearing room demanding he allow
the committee to vote on a U.N. treaty that urges countries to
end discrimination against women. Helms claims the accord would
outlaw Mother's Day and legalize prostitution. (It wouldn't.)
Helms votes against legislation that hints at being liberal, but
some of his best friends in the Senate have been liberals. He
cried when Hubert Humphrey died. One morning he shocked aides by
stopping a meeting to phone the office of then Democratic Senator
Paul Simon. "I noticed this morning coming in that Paul's
left-rear tire is low," he told Simon's secretary. "He better put
some air in it, or he won't get home."
"To understand Helms' foreign policy, you have to look at it
through a moral prism," explains his spokesman, Marc Thiessen.
You also have to accept that the lenses haven't been changed much
since the 1920s, when Helms was growing up just west of Wingate
in Monroe. It was a sleepy town where cotton wagons circled the
courthouse every Saturday, where flowers were put on the
Confederate memorial to honor Southern chivalry. Helms, for
instance, still thinks the civil rights movement was unnecessary.
Foreign affairs for him is defined by the black and white of the
cold war. He still speaks fondly of brutal Latin American
dictators, like Chile's Augusto Pinochet, because they fought
Clinton may want to build a foreign policy for the 21st century,
but Helms is happy to remain its Tyrannosaurus rex. He taps out
speeches on a typewriter, avoids diplomatic parties ("They're
boring") and spends most nights at home with his wife of 57
years, Dorothy, catching up on paperwork. On TV, the only shows
he likes are Touched by an Angel and JAG; he favors c-span. His
favorite star on the latter is British Prime Minister Tony Blair
when he appears in Parliament to answer questions. "My
Conservative friends over there look like they have sat up all
night trying to dream up questions to trip you up," Helms once
told Blair. "And you stand there looking at this little book you
got and blow them out of the water. What in the hell is in that
The betting on Capitol Hill is that Helms won't run again when
his fifth term ends in 2002. He suffers from a degenerative bone
disorder in his hip and has had surgery for prostate cancer, a
quadruple heart bypass and a double knee replacement. And because
a neurological disease has numbed his feet, he zips around the
halls in a scooter he calls "my Mercedes." But Helms considers
these ailments little more than distractions. "I have never felt
better," he insists. "I don't have any plans not to run."
Even though he will be 80, Helms is almost certain to be
re-elected if he does run. Southerners tend to keep Senators in
office forever. Even George W. Bush can't count on a free pass
from Senator No if he wins the White House. Helms held up more
nominees in the Reagan and Bush administrations than he has under
Clinton. Helms will only say now, "No matter who's President,
we're going to look at the record and find out what the ups and
downs are." George W. might do well to pay a visit to mecca.
What Would Jesse Do?
Confronted with a changing world, Helms uses his own moral
outlook to make policy. Do you agree with his approach? Take our
quiz and see.
The White House wants the U.S. to join the 165 other nations
that have ratified the 1979 Convention to Eliminate
Discrimination Against Women. What would you do?
Choose an option:
[A] Use the bill as leverage to push the Administration to crack down
on human rights abuses in China.
[B] Bottle the bill up in committee by insisting that it is the work
of "radical feminists" and that it would legalize abortion and
[C] Pass the bill.
After years of dickering, the Russian parliament has finally
passed the START II arms-control treaty, which has already been
ratified by the U.S. Senate. Do you:
Choose an option:
[A] Welcome the move and embrace Russia's plans to cut its stockpile
[B] Encourage the Administration to move to START III and amend the
[C] Effectively block the treaty from being implemented because the
later "protocols" added to it could stymie plans to build a U.S.
Clinton wants to use sanctions to keep pressure on Fidel Castro,
but he also wants to ease them at times to give Cubans a hint of
what life without Castro might look like. Do you:
Choose an option:
[A] Gleefully embrace the plan since it would help shove Castro out
of power--a longtime personal goal of yours?
[B] Allow only a trickle of humanitarian goods to be sent, and
[C] Declare that Castro and Cuba are a cold war-era problem that
Americans would do better to forget?
Faced with growing Chinese power, the White House wants to
soften Beijing's anti-U.S. rhetoric by granting China permanent
normal trade relations with the U.S. Do you:
Choose an option:
[A] Respond by opposing the trade plan--and proposing increased
military aid to Taiwan, a move that is sure to enrage Beijing?
[B] Make sure that any trade deal is larded with pork clauses that
will help tobacco farmers back in North Carolina?
[C] Visit Beijing to personally tell Chinese leaders that the deal is
a no go?
The U.N. claims the U.S. owes $1.3 billion in back dues. But
settling it has been tied up by disputes over an abortion rider
and U.N. reforms. Do you:
Choose an option:
[A] Criticize the White House for risking the U.S.'s seat at the U.N.
and move to get the back dues paid?
[B] Fuzz the abortion issue, give the U.N. $926 million, but only if
it meets tough conditions?
[C] Get Senate colleagues to find money for the dues in their own
What Jesse Did: 1.B 2.C 3.B 4.A 5.B
As Popeye used to say, 'I am what I am.'
--SENATOR JESSE HELMS