WASHINGTON — When Michael K. Deaver returns from an African-safari vacation to the political jungle of Washington this week, he will find that most of the Administration officials and others who lionized him during his days as a top aide to President Reagan have disappeared into the underbrush now that he faces mounting legal problems.
Almost none, save Reagan himself, has offered public support for Deaver, now a lobbyist, since he came under investigation for alleged conflict of interest and possible perjury in testimony before a House subcommittee that is looking into his affairs.
Reagan last week told an inquiring reporter he still had confidence in his longtime friend and master image-maker, despite the House subcommittee's 17-0 vote referring three possible perjury charges to the independent counsel who is investigating Deaver's lobbying activities. Elsewhere, there has been a notable silence among former colleagues and associates in the Administration, in Congress and in private life.
'A Lot of Enemies'
"Nothing's being done at the White House to defend him except what the President has said," according to a senior Administration official who declined to be identified. "It's no secret he's made a lot of enemies, but this is a tragic thing for him. It's a terrible time for him to be off on vacation."
Beyond their public silence, many of Deaver's associates when he served as Reagan's deputy chief of staff--rigidly controlling access to the Oval Office--now privately offer harsh criticism of the government-official-turned-lobbyist.
"He got his comeuppance," said one former colleague last week.
"He got what he deserved," declared another.
Such critics "weren't willing to take him on when he was in a position of power, but they're eager to jump on him now that he's out and in trouble," said James Lake, a Washington lobbyist and former Reagan campaign press secretary.
In part, what is happening to Deaver is as old as Washington itself. It is a classic case of a once-mighty official finding he has few friends once he has lost power and run afoul of legal or ethical standards. "Washington is a tough town," Lake said.
In part, however, the response to Deaver stems from a widespread perception that he was arrogant and curt when he wielded power as one of the President's closest confidants and that he became obsessed with making money once he left the White House last year to set up his own Washington public relations firm. "He brought it on himself," said one former colleague.
Deaver's current legal problems stem from his attempt to jump directly from the White House into Washington lobbying and use his Administration connections on behalf of major corporations and foreign countries, including CBS, TWA, Canada, Singapore and South Korea.
A year ago--only three months after resigning as Reagan's most trusted aide to open the lobbying firm--Deaver appeared to be succeeding beyond his wildest dreams. When a friend asked how things were going, Deaver, who had said he thought that with his connections he would make $1 million a year, replied: "Great, great, I'm making far more than I ever thought I would."
The President himself had given Deaver a considerable boost in his new venture. With Reagan's permission, Deaver had retained the coveted White House pass that entitled him to instant access to the building even though he no longer had an official connection with the government.
And the President, in formally accepting his resignation, had written him a letter--which the White House made public--saying Reagan could never accept the resignation "in my heart" and that he and his wife, Nancy, wanted Deaver to "continue to be a part of our lives . . . part of our life-support system."
Chauffeur-Driven Car
With such a send-off, Deaver opened an opulent office in fashionable Georgetown and soon was traveling around Washington in a chauffeur-driven Jaguar. Early this year, with high-paying clients beating a path to his door, he was on the verge of selling his lobbying firm, Michael K. Deaver & Associates, to a British firm for a reported $18 million.
For a man who had grown up poor in Bakersfield, Calif., and who at one time complained he could not get by on his annual $70,000 White House salary and was living on his savings, the 48-year-old Deaver had come a long way in a hurry.
But now he appears to be in deep trouble, both legally and professionally.
The investigations subcommittee of the House Energy and Commerce Committee has asked Whitney North Seymour Jr., the independent counsel, to determine if Deaver lied by failing to disclose contacts he had last summer with Robert C. McFarlane, then the President's national security adviser, and more recently with U.S. ambassadors in West Germany and Japan.
Rockwell Denied Knowing
