By Juliet Eilperin
Washington Post Staff Writer
Tuesday, May 25, 1999; Page A4

With the release today of a 700-page congressional report on the explosive issue of Chinese military espionage, Rep. Christopher Cox (R-Calif.) has achieved what some saw as impossible: bipartisan agreement in the era of the politics of personal destruction.

In convincing four Democrats and four Republicans to come to unanimous conclusions on the damage to U.S. security, Cox disappointed those GOP colleagues who had hoped the inquiry would provide them with ammunition to destroy the president. But the collegial approach ultimately ensured that the panel's findings -- that China stole U.S. nuclear weapons secrets -- would be taken seriously by the Clinton administration, Congress and the public at large.

"He was a gentleman throughout the entire process," said Rep. Norman D. Dicks (D-Wash.), who served as ranking minority member of the nine-person panel. "He was definitely interested in a comprehensive report which was thoroughly investigated, but he was also willing to be fair in this enterprise."

To Cox, the very mandate of the Select Committee on U.S. Security and Military/ Commercial Concerns with the People's Republic of China lent itself to collaboration between the parties. "The national security focus of our committee -- technology transfer to a specific foreign country -- made it easier for us to think of ourselves as members of the same team," he said in an interview recently. "We were on the American side."

Cox, a 46-year-old alumnus of the Reagan administration, said he hopes the declassified report allows Americans to engage in a meaningful debate over the nation's security policy. "It's very difficult to solve problems you can't talk about," he said.

The lanky, telegenic Cox is widely considered one of the brainiest members of the GOP Republican hierarchy, a consummate policy wonk who cares deeply about the budget process and boasts impeccable conservative credentials. He completed college at the University of Southern California in three years and then got his law and business degrees from Harvard in another four, making law review editor in the process. He chairs the House Republican Policy Committee, which helps shape the party's agenda in Congress.

At the same time, Cox displays little of the kind of back-slapping camaraderie necessary for rising in leadership; he ran briefly for House speaker once in the past six months and flirted with the idea a second time, only to find his candidacy falter for lack of support.

Rep. Dana Rohrabacher, a fiery conservative and close friend of Cox's, calls his colleague "the great conservative hope for many years" but also freely admits "Chris doesn't necessarily have good political instincts."

"He's a very principled person but he's not a passionate person. I think that's something that's held him back, because when he's communicating with people, he tends to present his case as if it's a legal brief," Rohrabacher said. "The public is looking for strong conviction, which they equate with emotion. Chris is a man of very strong conviction, but not someone who shows much emotion."

Then-House Speaker Newt Gingrich (R-Ga.) tapped Cox to head up the House probe last May, after revelations that two U.S. satellite companies headed by Clinton allies may have transferred to China technology it has used to improve its nuclear missile capability. Gingrich repeatedly told colleagues in private meetings he believed the panel would uncover impeachable offenses against Clinton.

After a newspaper report claimed the committee had "evidence that may be relevant to an impeachment inquiry," Cox and Dicks quickly issued a statement denying the panel had reached any conclusions about its investigation. And Dicks confronted Gingrich personally in the House gym, telling him there were no grounds for impeachment in the report.

"They were looking for something other than Monica Lewinsky," Dicks recalled. "I certainly got the impression [Cox] was under considerable pressure from his leadership to come up with something."

Cox, an unflappable and deliberative speaker who often pauses to come up with the precise word he's seeking in a given context, sidestepped the question of whether some top Republicans were hoping his panel would find a smoking gun against Clinton. But he acknowledged that some of his colleagues chafed at being kept in the dark for more than six months: "I would be asked how the investigation was going, and I'd say, 'Fine.' "

Cox and his colleagues were under considerable restrictions: They operated in a "Sensitive Compartmentalized Information Facility" in the Longworth House Office Building, complete with a vault, constant guards, and computers that must be destroyed once the panel shuts down.

And when most of his colleagues had gone home for the evening, Cox would continue to work, occasionally at the stand-up desk in his office that he uses to compensate for back problems -- a legacy of an injury he suffered two decades ago when he was clerking for a federal judge in Hawaii. As Cox and a friend were navigating the muddy road of a remote island, the jeep they were riding in overturned, trapping him underneath. His back broken, his legs paralyzed, Cox managed to both crawl out from under the vehicle and then recover almost completely within six months.

The long hours the committee members and their staff spent on the report prompted obvious signs of strain, even for a workaholic like Cox. With three young children, he is a firm advocate for a "family-friendly" Congress.

Cox noted: "The most family-friendly thing I can think to do for the next year is not be the chairman of a select committee."