Jr. in early September was greater than at any other time during
his tenure as Treasury secretary. As he pored over the books of mortgage giants
, he discovered that they were about to collapse and that the financial
markets would experience what he called "a meltdown to end all meltdowns."
Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson and Federal Reserve Chairman
Ben Bernanke waged a stout defense on Capitol Hill Tuesday of their management
of a $700 billion financial bailout.
The federal government would have to seize the firms. But the law said their
management would have to agree, and his own staff had reservations about whether
Paulson had the legal authority to force them to surrender.
"Trust me," came Paulson's curt answer. "I'll get it done."
During his 28 months at the Treasury, Paulson has accumulated more power than
nearly any of his predecessors and has wielded it boldly, even brazenly at
times, in a bid to tame the financial crisis of a lifetime. He has burst through
the customary boundaries that separate federal agencies, bent regulations to his
will and pushed up against legal limits. As financial firms tumble and
traditional oversight agencies prove impotent, Paulson has filled the void with
his 6-foot-1 frame, summoning the rest of Washington and Wall
Street to get in line.
"Even if you don't have the authorities -- and frankly I didn't have the
authorities for anything -- if you take charge, people will follow," Paulson
said in an interview. "Someone has to pull it all together."
He said regretfully that the financial upheaval has forced
him to be a modern Robert Moses, the controversial 20th-century urban planner
who acquired minor government posts and stretched their authority to reshape New
York City as he saw fit. Though Moses never held elected office, he remade the
landscape of New York through the cunning exercise of power.
Paulson had twice rebuffed the Bush administration by the time it offered him
the post of Treasury secretary in April 2006. Paulson finally agreed but
insisted on some terms. He would answer only to President
Bush and not be subject to meddling by the president's economic policy
advisers. And, Paulson recalled, he wanted it in writing.
The agreement laid the foundation. After the financial crisis erupted last
year, Bush privately dubbed Paulson his "wartime general" on the economy,
essentially telling him he would have White
House backing for whatever measure he pursued, Paulson recalled in a series
of interviews. That commitment endured even as Paulson steered the
administration far from Republican orthodoxy on free markets.
Paulson used his influence within the administration to win even broader
powers from Congress, allowing him to nationalize major financial institutions,
either in part or entirely. The bills were sweeping in scope and gave him the
latitude to spend hundreds of billions of dollars as he saw fit.
And Paulson unilaterally pushed his authority to craft initiatives even when,
according a senior government official, he was not sure he had an airtight legal
basis.
Confronted with the implosion of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac,
he didn't hesitate in identifying his course for the firms. He gave the
companies' management just one day to review the Treasury's assessment of their
situation, which revealed that each was on the verge of collapse. Then he
summoned individually the two chief executives, Richard
F. Syron of Freddie Mac and Daniel
H. Mudd of Fannie Mae, to the third-floor conference room near his office in
the Treasury building. Paulson sat across from them, along with Federal
Reserve Chairman Ben S. Bernanke and the companies' regulator, James
B. Lockhart III.