When examining
the candidacy of Hillary Clinton for the presidency, what people need to keep
in mind is that she is the end product of forty years of marriage and political
symbiosis with Bill Clinton, a man who is simultaneously one of the most
talented politicians this country has yet seen, and one of the most
self-destructive people ever to hold high office. She knew him through law
school, married him shortly after graduation, and returned with him to Arkansas,
which, at that time, was both rural and still under control of the old Southern
Democratic Party.
At
that time and within that party, the Good Ol’ Boy network was a real thing; so
long as politicians like Bill Clinton stroked the right people, stayed quiet,
and kept to their word, they could go to the state capital to do good and end
up doing really well. Being politically talented and having been raised in the
state, Bill understood the rules and made a rapid ascent to the top of the
Arkansas food chain, becoming governor before he was thirty. He lost the job
two years later, having made the mistake of thinking that because he was
governor, he was actually in charge of the state. This was a valuable early
lesson, because when he regained the governorship in 1980, he had learned the
value of political alliances, the usefulness of political centrism, and the
employment of issue triangulation, which consists of finding ways to straddle
the most popular of your opponent’s arguments with your own policies, thereby neutralizing
the opposition and stealing credit for the idea. This was something he
perfected during his presidency.
Meanwhile,
Hillary was learning the same lessons, as well as others having to do with forging
alliances with politically useful non-profits and making sure that that, at the
end of the day, the bank account was full. She worked as a private attorney and
as a rainmaker within her firm, and found ways to take advantage of her
husband’s position by implication, managing to avoid leaving evidence trails to
administration policy positions and changes that could invite corruption
charges. In Arkansas, the appearance of impropriety was beside the point so
long as nothing could be proven beyond a reasonable doubt.
The
reality of small state politics in the 1970s and 1980s was that unless there
was a riot, a natural disaster, an octogenarian House committee chairman
indicted and/or dead, or something large caught fire and burned to the ground,
there was an almost total lack of national attention. Even the news, either on
paper or television, tended to be light on investigation and heavy on stories
about process. Reporters and politicians were all aware of who had deals with
whom, of course, and the general outlines of the various agreements between
industry and government were widely known as well, but because everything was
handshake sealed and nothing was on paper, little could be done about insider
politics or actual corruption. Indeed, much later on during the Clinton presidency,
a more stringent examination of the Clintons’ investments in Whitewater and
Tyson became a big deal because the political back scratching was so
transparent, but, ultimately, nothing was indictable because nothing damning
was written down and, in any event, no one was talking.
Both Clintons learned from how that played out
and spun the results shamelessly, thereby deflecting the “appearance of
corruption” stories, and carefully, grudgingly parsing their words to avoid
definitive statements on their various controversies that either could be
proven or disproven. Simultaneously,
they alleged that their political enemies, as well as what came to be known as
the “vast right-wing conspiracy,” was using these unproven allegations in a
cynical attempt to destroy them politically. This spin has proven to be
astonishingly effective and remains useful so long as the center-left
establishment needs (or fears) the Clintons.
The
results of these lessons can be seen in the email controversy and in both the organization
and general behavior of the Clinton Foundation, where an air of “not quite
aboveboard but not, by definition, illegal” pervades much of what they do and
how they go about their business. And, paradoxically, the fact that they have
been under suspicion of corruption and malfeasance seemingly forever inoculates
them against the sort of charges that would absolutely devastate other
candidates whose reputation is built on honesty and clarity. Certainly, no
other current politicians in America receive a similar benefit of the doubt
when “the smoking gun,” the documented evidence of a scandal, cannot be
produced.
Equally
as influenced by her husband’s political adaptability and larger than life
persona are Hillary’s demeanor and tactics as a candidate. In nearly everything
she does while campaigning publicly, you can see echoes of her far more
talented husband. When Bill speaks to primarily African-American audiences, he
often thickens his Southern accent appreciably and talks in a colloquial manner;
Hillary has been known to adopt a “Southern” accent and less formal speech in
front of similar groups. Conversely, when in front of sympathetic Democratic
crowds, Bill has been known to speak in an almost metronomic cadence when he
seeks to drive home a point, which is something that Hillary often does, and
both tend to sarcastically mock the opposition while carefully sidestepping any
actual points they are making. And when Bill is in trouble, he parses his words
precisely and carefully like the lawyer he is: “It depends on what the meaning
of the word ‘is’ is.” Likewise, Hillary is a lawyer and is also strategic with
her words. Returning to her email difficulties, for example, the Secretary has
offered multiple explanations, each more carefully parsed than the previous
version, adopting language that appears straightforward but remains full of
room to adjust in the event that evidence moves in a different direction. And
finally, when pushed to extremis, Bill will simply bald-face lie about a
subject and adopt his very best “you have to believe me” face, which was
largely the reason the House voted to impeach him. Even at the time, there was
little expectation in Washington that the Senate would vote to convict, but the
lies were so apparent, so absolutely without question, that the House
leadership moved ahead. However, when Speaker Gingrich’s affairs surfaced and
Speaker-Apparent Livingston resigned for similar reasons, the game shifted ground
abruptly to “everyone lies about sex,” and “that’s all this is about” when it
manifestly was not. But by that point, it did not matter. Employing a hoarse
voice and demanding to go back to doing the business of the American people,
Bill Clinton survived in the presidency and Hillary learned the most important
lesson of all: when caught well and true, you delay. Delay is your friend.
Delay and get your supporters and allies to call into question the motives of
those who seek the truth behind your actions. Then delay even more, and with
any luck at all, the clock will run out, the public will tire of the story, and
the prosecution or the opposition or the special investigator or whomever will
either let it go or have it taken from them.
It is
worth recalling at this point one important difference between the Clintons
that is going to have an effect throughout the summer and fall; she is not the
president yet. For Bill, it was the chief means to his long-term political
survival, simply the fact that however much his enemies had on him and however
much they wanted him gone, getting rid of presidents is fiendishly difficult
and on purpose. The Secretary has no such backstop; for her, delay for the sake
of the delay is the defense she has remaining to her, and she will employ that
and the tendency of the media and the public to eventually tire of a story that
has no new chapters. She has to hope it remains that way.
We’ve
seen all of the foregoing throughout her campaign, and we will certainly see
more of the same should she be elected to the presidency this fall. But in one
of the most interesting paradoxes of this current cycle, she finds herself
matched against an opponent whose political abilities rival her husband’s, and
whose tactics and talents for disarming or dismissing the established truth resembles
their own. The fact that she understands government and policy much better than
he does almost seems beside the point. And when Bill inevitably moves to campaign
for her this summer and fall, directly, as he will have to, the differences will
move into starker contrast and likely not to her benefit.
