YOU’VE HEARD IT many times and you’ll hear it many more: Whatever his flaws, President Clinton is indisputably the greatest political talent of his generation. This accolade is a common theme of media obituaries on his presidency. “Even his sharpest critics bow to his mastery of politics,” said John Harris of the Washington Post. David Halberstam, writing in Vanity Fair, declared Clinton “the most gifted politician of the modern era.” Robin Toner of the New York Times insisted he “transformed the political world.” And Joe Klein, who skewered Clinton in his bestselling novel Primary Colors, is now in awe. “Clinton never faced a policy crisis significant enough to challenge his political gifts,” he wrote in the New Yorker. In other words, Clinton was too talented for his time.
It’s true. Clinton has a knack for politics, but only in the most cramped sense of what constitutes politics. He’s so charming even political enemies find him likable. He’s a good speaker, especially when extemporizing, and a trenchant debater. He’s enormously appealing when addressing crowds, small groups, or a single person. Clinton is very clever and particularly adept at tactical moves that thwart his opponents, usually Republicans. A good example: concocting reasons like saving Social Security or paying down the debt to block GOP tax cuts. He’s at his best in a fight, playing off foes skillfully and turning them into figures of scorn. Just ask Newt Gingrich.
But there’s a lot more to politics than personality and stratagems. Great politicians not only survive in office, they achieve great things, build their party, and leave an enduring and positive legacy. Clinton managed only to survive. Years ago, Sidney Hook made a distinction between eventful and event-making leaders. Eventful presidents have little influence on important events that occur during their term. Event-making presidents produce far-reaching changes that wouldn’t have happened without them. Ronald Reagan was an event-making president. Clinton is eventful.
The Clinton era was marked by four major developments in Washington: the failure of his health care plan, enactment of welfare reform, arrival of a balanced budget, and impeachment. Not one of these was sought by Clinton — quite the opposite. A wiser politician would not have turned his most significant domestic initiative, national health care, over to his wife. Nor would he have spurned reasonable compromises offered by leading Republicans. Clinton wound up with nothing. Now, he claims it was impossible, given the circumstances, for national health care to have won approval by Congress (then controlled by Democrats). Shouldn’t a politician with his supposed gifts have sensed that at the time?
Clinton brags about welfare reform and a balanced budget. But he had little to do with either. Sure, he talked about ending welfare “as we know it.” The bill written by Republicans, terminating the welfare entitlement altogether, was far from what he envisioned, however. He signed it reluctantly and only after political adviser Dick Morris warned he’d lose the 1996 election if he didn’t. He and his aides vehemently opposed a balanced budget — until pressure by congressional Republicans made that position untenable. So, as with welfare reform, Clinton acquiesced. And impeachment? Clinton says it’s a badge of honor, not a stain. Right. In any case, he didn’t seek it.
Another test of a great politician is whether he seizes opportunities. Again, Clinton failed. He blew the chance to reform Social Security and Medicare and make them solvent through the middle of the twenty-first century. Naturally, Clinton has excuses. Insolvency wasn’t imminent. Congressional Democrats didn’t want to go along, and impeachment made him beholden to their wishes. But would a politician without peer have gotten into that situation? The truth is Clinton didn’t have the moxie to persuade even a few dozen Democrats to back entitlement reform. He didn’t set up a war room at the White House to cadge for votes, as he had for NAFTA in 1993. He simply gave up, leaving the problem for George W. Bush.
I don’t want to sell Clinton short. He was extremely good at frustrating Republicans after they took control of Congress in 1994. He won the budget battle with Gingrich in 1995, but to what end other than making himself look good? By 1997, he’d accepted most of the cuts in Medicare that he’d earlier denounced and agreed to significant tax cuts as well. Michael Waldman, Clinton’s chief speechwriter, told Joe Klein that “the most incredible moment” of Clinton’s presidency occurred in his State of the Union address in January 1998 when he proclaimed the budget surplus should be used to “save Social Security first.” This flummoxed Republicans and bulldozed their plans for deeper tax cuts. But Clinton didn’t follow up by actually saving Social Security. His only step was to endorse a Republican idea, a hobby horse of GOP senator Phil Gramm of Texas, to make the Social Security surplus off-limits to spending programs or tax cuts.
As for the Democratic party, here’s an appropriate question: Is it better off than it was eight years ago? According to Robin Toner, “Mr. Clinton restored the Democrats’ national stature.” I’m not so sure. Clinton didn’t win a majority in either of his presidential races and his anointed successor, Al Gore, didn’t either. And, as columnist Mark Shields pointed out in the Washington Post, Clinton’s victories were accompanied by massive Democratic losses. In 1992, for example, Democrats had 102 more House seats than Republicans; now they have 11 fewer. In 1992, Democrats had governors in 28 states, including New York, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and Florida, and controlled 25 state legislatures to 8 for Republicans. By 2000, Democrats held only 18 governorships, and Republicans controlled one more legislature than Democrats (17 to 16).
Another pro-Clinton claim is that he dragged Democrats to the political center, where their prospects are now bright. True, he made intermittent stabs at this. But it worked only on a handful of economic issues and not at all on the cultural, social, and religious issues that were critical in the 2000 presidential election. Among Democrats, gay rights, racial preferences, gun control, and abortion have become litmus test issues. And Democrats come across as secular and culturally permissive, allowing Republicans to capitalize on their religious faith and cultural conservatism. This last contrast gave Bush enough southern and border states to win.
Clinton does have a legacy, but it’s not the one he’s gabbed about in recent interviews. He told Esquire he helped “prepare America for the whole new way of living that the Information Age is bringing” and made “the connection of what we do in Washington to how people live . . . closer than it has ever been.” That’s the kind of vague stuff you talk about when there’s not much to boast about. Clinton, of course, says his 1993 budget produced the economic boom. But the economy was growing at 5-plus percent when he took office, and the stock market didn’t explode until Republicans won Congress.
Clinton’s real legacy is scandal, from Whitewater to Monicagate. Next is the total politicization of the White House. In assessing Clinton in the Washington Post Magazine, Harris wrote he “mastered the office of the presidency as thoroughly as any occupant since Franklin D. Roosevelt.” There’s some truth in that. Clinton institutionalized robotic spin by White House aides. He transformed the press secretary into a political point man. He made demonization of political foes routine. Given this, it’s small wonder Clinton aroused fierce and undying opposition and is leaving on a sour, whiny note. In interviews, he embraces victimhood, an unattractive posture for a president or any other politician. He told Esquire Republicans should apologize for impeaching him. They responded last week by giving Mr. Impeachment, Rep. Henry Hyde, a shiny new chairmanship. Not exactly “bowing before his mastery of politics.”
Fred Barnes is executive editor of THE WEEKLY STANDARD.
