FORGIVENESS

Normally I wouldn’t burden anyone with a personal confession. And normally I wouldn’t try to draw lessons for the nation’s political leaders from my own experience. Most of my rules for living are pretty humdrum (Rule 1: Always ask for extra napkins at a fast-food restaurant) and don’t have any relevance to national affairs. But forgiveness is different. As far as I know, it didn’t come up at the recent civility summit held by House Republicans and Democrats in Hershey, Pa. But it should have. Seeking forgiveness works, both in repairing relationships and as an effective political tool.

The freshest example is Kenneth Starr, the Whitewater independent counsel. He announced in February he was stepping down to become law school dean at Pepperdine University in California. His friends, allies, law partners, and Whitewater prosecution colleagues were aghast, and the media assault was brutal. Starr quickly realized he’d made an enormous mistake in cutting out before the Whitewater case was completed. Even so, his inclination was to announce simply that he’d reconsidered and would stay on — no more.

Fortunately, his advisers cajoled him into going further. He said he’d blundered: “As Fiorello La Guardia would say, when I make a mistake, it’s a beaut.” Starr said he’d made “an unwise judgment” and “consulted inadequately with my colleagues.” He said his decision to leave was one “I deeply regret.” While Starr didn’t explicitly ask the public to forgive him, that was the effect of his mea culpa. It worked. Media criticism stopped, and Starr’s relationship with friends and coworkers was restored. And at least from appearances, he looked like a man whose soul had been restored as well.

Now compare the Starr episode with Vice President Al Gore’s painfully unsuccessful effort to extinguish the flap over his role in the Democratic fund-raising scandal. At his “no controlling legal authority” press conference, Gore said he’d never make fund-raising calls from the White House again. “Are you basically then admitting that you made a mistake or made mistakes?” a reporter asked.”No,” Gore said, and elaborated on his legalistic alibi.

This was the wrong answer. For reporters, it kept the story alive, and Gore has continued to be pounded by the press. Had he admitted his mistake and apologized, it might not have ended the controversy but it would have defused things a bit. My guess is the press would have begun moving on to the next story.

Of all pols, President Clinton ought to understand the political value of forgiveness. He’s exploited the idea before, apologizing directly to voters in Arkansas when he sought reelection in 1982. They forgave him. A decade later, he appeared with Hillary after Gennifer Flowers declared she had had a long-term affair with him. The point was if Hillary had forgiven him, voters should too. Many did.

Now, Clinton has refused to ask for forgiveness for any presidential wrongdoing. Maybe he subscribes to the dictum of James Baker, Ronald Reagan’s White House chief of staff, that a president should never admit error because it would erode his authority.

In Clinton’s case, a plea for forgiveness might enhance his authority. Certainly the explanation that “mistakes were made” in campaign fund-raising at the White House didn’t help. Rather than gaining forgiveness, Clinton made matters worse. This was unnecessary. The president knew he’d made mistakes. His aides knew it. All he had to do was admit, sincerely, that he’d erred, and was sorry. The scandal wouldn’t have died down entirely, but Clinton might have become less ripe a target of reporters and the public.

One more thing: Insincere attempts at forgiveness rarely work. Back in January, Speaker Newt Gingrich said he’d been “too brash, too self-confident, or too pushy,” and he asked to be forgiven. It worked for a while. A few weeks later, though, Gingrich blamed others for his ethics troubles. He suggested his lawyer should apologize for making a mistake. Instantly, Gingrich was back in hot water again, his bid for forgiveness exposed as fraudulent. Still, I give Gingrich credit for making a stab at forgiveness anyway. That’s one more stab than most politicians are willing to make.

Why are they so reluctant? I suppose it’s for the same reason so few indulge in self-deprecatory humor. They’re so self-obsessed and pampered they just can’t imagine they’ve done anything wrong, ever. They should check out Proverbs 28:13: “He who conceals his sins does not prosper, but whoever confesses and renounces them finds mercy.” In my case, when I asked to be forgiven, mercy is exactly what I found.

FRED BARNES