(FORTUNE Magazine) – Though he's been caricatured as a suck-up to the "Hollywood elite," Bill Clinton isn't the only politician who goes gaga over stars. Every politician does. Given a choice between debating the issues and chatting up the four remaining Spice Girls, a typical Washington pol will head straight for the chanteuses. Which is ironic, since many celebrities would just as soon skip the spice and wallow in policy, donning little round glasses and earnestly discussing, say, the rain forest with Larry King.

This isn't just another grass-is-always-greener parable. It's the premise for a flourishing business housed at APCO Associates, the lobbying and public relations arm of Grey Advertising. Called Cause Celebre, the Washington-based service puts celebrities together with causes--usually for the benefit of fee-paying corporate clients hungry for publicity.

For instance, when MCI wanted to advertise itself to young people during the last election, it turned to Cause Celebre, which recruited singer Sheryl Crow to promote voter registration over the Internet. And when Johnson & Johnson, maker of Band-Aids, wanted to find a way to appeal to the parents of young children, Cause Celebre enlisted TV talker Leeza Gibbons and David Schwimmer of the sitcom Friends to remind lawmakers and the public about childhood accident prevention.

Such matchmaking is the brainchild of Cause Celebre's chief, Alma Viator, a show-business publicist who has worked for theatrical organizations on both coasts, but has long made her home inside the Beltway. Viator has a first-hand understanding of the mutual attraction of stars and office holders: Her husband, Ben Jones, played the auto mechanic Cooter on the TV series The Dukes of Hazzard and later served two terms as a Democratic congressman from Georgia. Today he is a member of his wife's stable of celebrities-on-call. (One can only hope that Jones is bringing some attention to the main problem plaguing Hazzard County: infrastructure. As loyal viewers may recall, at least once per episode, the Duke boys would discover that the bridge over the local gully had gone out yet again, necessitating a dramatic jump with their souped-up car, the General Lee.)

Why would glitzy stars hanker for drab D.C.? "They're looking for their lives to have additional meaning," suggests Margery Kraus, the president of APCO. As for why politicians want to hang with the stars, Viator says it's more than just the glamour of it all. "When they see each other, they seem to know each other," she asserts. "They both feed on that adulation and response." Indeed, the most dangerous place to stand on Capitol Hill is between a Congressman and a bank of cameras--exactly what a La-La Land celeb has in tow.

Corporations and interest groups crave such attention. When the Recording Industry Association of America wanted to highlight the importance of copyright protection last year, it (and Viator) invited lawmakers and their staffs to a concert at Washington's Ford's Theater that featured country music legend Johnny Cash. Cash also testified on Capitol Hill the same day. Both events were hits.

Sometimes, however, the linkage doesn't work so well. For a recent forum on women's health, Viator brought in a young starlet whom she declines to name. After her talk, the starlet dashed into a bathroom in the Capitol for a quick smoke. Viator had to bar the door to prevent anyone from discovering the hypocrisy. Then there was the time with a much bigger star, who shall also remain nameless. (Okay, it was Cher.) Cher came to town to attend a benefit for the learning disabled. She didn't realize the dinner was to be held not in a ballroom but at a downtown business. When she emerged from her limo, she is reliably reported to have quipped, "What the fuck am I doing at a department store?" (She went anyway.)

Most times, though, the star-gazing clicks. James Cromwell is pretty well known for his Oscar-nominated role as the farmer in the talking-pig epic, Babe. So when Sen. John McCain (R-Arizona) spotted Cromwell walking up the steps to the Senate, he stopped to talk for a few minutes. Cromwell was able to plug his cause: funding for Native American arts education. McCain got to tell his kids he'd spoken to Farmer Hoggett. And Viator had another good day in the connection biz.

--Jeffrey H. Birnbaum