For the last half century, no presidential candidate behind in the polls on Labor Day has gone on to win. George W. Bush was behind on Labor Day, and sliding. Can he turn it around?
Sure. Harry Truman did in 1948. And in any case, these rules are made to be broken. Remember the iron law that the party in the White House always loses seats in the congressional election in its sixth year in office? Newt Gingrich does.
How can Bush do it? Here’s a simple suggestion. George W. Bush is a reasonably conservative Republican who deeply disapproves of Bill Clinton’s conduct in the White House. Perhaps he should run as a reasonably conservative Republican who deeply disapproves of Bill Clinton’s conduct in the White House.
This would require abandoning the central conceit of the Bush campaign: that George W. Bush is so personally attractive that partisanship and ideology and passing judgment on Bill Clinton are unnecessary burdens for him to bear. Like many politicians, Bush thinks the contest should be about him. He also thinks that if it is, he’ll win. He’s probably wrong on both counts. Like most elections, this one is primarily about the incumbents, Clinton and Gore. And even if it could be made to be about Bush, it’s not clear that would mean victory. Bush’s route to victory is not through personality. If there is one, it’s through ideology and contrast and partisanship.
I know, I know: Partisanship is uncool, and being Republican is uncool, and any association with congressional Republicans is way uncool. So Bush has shunned partisanship and barely mentions his party. In his convention acceptance speech, Bush was entirely nonpartisan or bipartisan. He claimed an ability to govern without regard to party. Each of the three times he said the word “Republican,” it was paired with “Democrat,” as in “I work with Republicans and Democrats to get things done.” His aides emphasize that Bush is a “different kind of Republican.” And above all, they see to it that he is in no way associated with those dread congressional Republicans.
The trouble is that this different kind of Republican is no longer doing better than regular old congressional Republicans. Bush runs no better against Gore than congressional Republicans do in the polls. So Bush is now, in effect, an ordinary Republican. But this isn’t so bad. After all, despite all their mistakes and the burden of Newt, House Republicans did get more votes than Democrats in the last three elections. So did Republican Senate candidates and Republican governors. This suggests that if this year’s presidential election were to be a routinely partisan one, Bush would have close to a 50-50 chance. Those odds look pretty good right now.
To get those odds, Bush would have to run the risk of greater identification with the Republican Congress. But this would bring with it a real benefit: Bush could take some credit for the accomplishments of that Congress. More important, he could deprive Al Gore of his claim to exclusive responsibility for the current beneficent state of affairs. Convincing people that the last eight years have been “squandered,” as Bush has been trying to do, is harder than convincing them that the GOP deserves some credit for the achievements of those years.
In particular, it would help Bush to remind voters that Republicans stopped Clinton-Gore from doing some bad things (especially health care in 1993-1994), pushed Clinton-Gore to do some things they didn’t originally want to do (balance the budget, reform welfare, cut some taxes), and tried to accomplish some good things that Clinton-Gore vetoed (banning partial-birth abortion, experiments in school choice for poor kids, further tax cuts).
Now in each of these areas, as it happens, there were Democrats in Congress who voted with the GOP and against Clinton-Gore (e.g., Joe Lieberman). Bush can effectively cite such members in ads to make the point that the Republican position is often a bipartisan one. But he shouldn’t make a fetish out of bipartisanship: The deeper case he must make is partisan. Because if he fails to make it to some extent (he needn’t embrace every aspect of the GOP Congress), then Clinton and Gore get all the credit for the economy, welfare reform, and the like. That’s probably too much of a burden for a challenger to overcome.
Some degree of partisanship, then, is necessary. So is some degree of ideology. In fact, making the case for conservatism would have a higher payoff for Bush than embracing Republicanism. After all, self-identified conservatives outnumber self-proclaimed liberals by about three to two in the electorate, and most of the remaining 40 percent or so of voters who call themselves moderate are susceptible to conservative appeals.
Lots of them aren’t even particularly intimidated by the notion that they might not be viewed as compassionate. After all, majorities in California, a Democratic state, voted to abolish racial preferences in 1996 and bilingual education in 1998 (and both reforms have worked out admirably). Conservative policies are “compassionate,” so there’s no need for Bush to run away from “compassionate conservatism.” But a little more emphasis on the noun rather than the adjective would be a good idea.
For Bush’s muting of his conservatism has a hidden cost: It has made it impossible for him to tag Al Gore with liberalism. The point of running as a conservative is not simply to hold the ideological banner aloft for yourself. It’s to define your opponent ideologically as well. If you don’t do the first, you can’t do the second. Al Gore is a liberal, and a pretty dogmatic one. But he, needless to say, never uses the word — and neither does George Bush. “Liberal” never appeared in Bush’s convention speech, and has rarely been invoked since.
So Gore gets to define himself as a middle-class populist who’s in favor of various attractive programs. He is never forced to beat back the charge that all of his talk adds up to that old, but still somewhat reliable bogeymen — elitist, big government liberalism. Doesn’t the Bush campaign have clips of Gore defending gays in the military in 1993? Hillarycare in 1994? Defending racial preferences and partial-birth abortion? Can’t similarities be drawn between (at least the implications of) Gore’s current prescription drug proposal and the risky health care scheme he was so fond of just a few years ago? Is the main problem, as Bush seemed to suggest last week, that Gore hasn’t done enough and that his program will phase in too slowly? Isn’t the problem rather that what Gore wants to do will be positively damaging to our excellent health care system and to our vibrant economy?
And, while we’re at it, what about the automobile, that great blight on our civilization? And what will Gore’s judges do to Lieberman’s hopes for more respect for religion in the public square? And won’t Gore’s first judicial appointment join to overturn the Boy Scouts decision? And incidentally, is Gore willing to say that abortion should be not only legal but rare? Gore really is more liberal than Clinton. Bush might as well say so.
Speaking of Clinton . . . Bush doesn’t want to. “I’m not going to attack President Clinton,” he said August 30. Why not? Isn’t Gore’s eager participation in a dishonorable administration one of the main reasons he shouldn’t be president? Is the fundamental problem of the Clinton-Gore years really that “they failed to lead”? Is that the main reason “it’s time for them to go”?
Bush and Cheney invoked Clinton repeatedly at the convention. And polls show that a strong majority of Americans are hostile to the (admittedly metaphorical) idea of a third Clinton term. But then Gore, as it were, ditched Clinton for Lieberman, and he’s done well ever since. Bush and Cheney need to relink Gore to Clinton.
The way to do this is to make a serious argument about the disgrace of the Clinton administration. “Tongue-in-cheek” ads alluding to Gore’s Buddhist temple visit won’t work. Such ads won’t even achieve what Bush believes to be their purpose: “The point is, this [ad] is a way to help inoculate me about what has come and is coming,” because Gore is “a fellow that will say anything.”
Indeed he is. But Bush misses the point. The point is not to “inoculate” Bush. The point is to make a serious case against Gore’s fitness to be president. Bush needs to treat Gore not as just another slippery politician but as a willing aider and abetter of Bill Clinton’s corruption of the electoral, political, and legal processes of our nation. He needs to explain that to elect Gore is to fail to hold Clinton-Gore responsible for what they have done. This means that Bush must give one or more serious speeches in which he takes upon himself the unpleasant task of reminding us, and explaining to us, just how dishonorable the Clinton-Gore administration has been.
Then, when the Bush campaign puts up its ad, in the last two weeks of the campaign, showing Gore’s famous December 19, 1998, encomium to Clinton as one of our greatest presidents, voters will understand that this is not just another “attack ad” but a matter of real import. Bush will have laid the groundwork, so that voters, coming to grips with the choice before them, realize that electing Gore really is giving Clinton a third term, thereby vindicating him. That, I believe, Americans would prefer not to do. Bush can make it easier for them not to do it.
William Kristol is editor and publisher of THE WEEKLY STANDARD.
